Spiritual Meg, Part II

Bulletin: I had Univision on this morning for a few minutes.  The women who host  Primer Impacto wear the most fabulous dresses, and it's usually followed by a brief promo featuring another nicely dressed woman.

Today, the promo was replaced by a man wearing a long silver earring.  He then pulled the earring off, and some words appeared on the screen.  I caught Soy and Ella and did a little googling and found:

Por Ella Soy Eva  [For her, I am Eva]
A contemporary romantic comedy with a twist. Elena, a successful single mom, falls in love with a macho man named Juan Carlos, but when he tricks her to win a business deal her heart turns cold. To win her back he’ll do anything - and is forced to swallow his pride (and machismo), transforming himself into a woman named Eva.

It started last night and runs every evening at 8 Eastern.  Spanish, anyone?

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NOT What I Wore!

I went through the double doors and saw a "Sanctuary" sign with an arrow.  I walked past the office and saw two women standing further down the lobby.  Both smiled and introduced themselves.  I offered my hand and my name.  I asked where the sanctuary was.  One woman pointed and said "it's right through here, but we have a pre-service wine-and-cheese ~ you can go in and meet some members."

*sigh*

You all know me by now.  I really don't want to schmooze.  I looked puzzled (it was 6:35 now) and asked "when do services start?"  And the other woman said "in about two minutes, so you won't have much time to snack."  I tried to look more disappointed than relieved and followed the crowd.

There were probably between 60 and 80 people in there.  It was an older crowd; I saw very few people younger than me.  The rabbi and cantor (they lead the service) were both on holiday so someone else was leading.  I didn't really care.  I sang (softly) the prayers that I knew, read responsively when it was required.  I was in a row to myself.  An older woman sat in front of me and a couple behind me.

Many services start with members greeting those around them.  I was prepared for that.  This one did not.

After the service there is usually wine and bread (ritual stuff) and some food: fruit, cookies, coffee and such.  I went into the room where they had the food, grabbed a small cup of wine and went to look at a board with pictures of the congregation.  I figured I'd stay for the ritual part and then move on.  A woman came up to me and introduced herself.  I returned the greeting.  She asked if I was a member and I admitted to not being one.  She started to pick up literature about the congregation and I told her where I did belong and she desisted.

I tried to keep up the conversation ~ asked her if she was on the membership committee (obvious); asked about the man who led the service.  They did the blessings over wine and bread and I excused myself with "I have not had dinner" and "it was nice to meet you" and "the leader did a wonderful job."  I discarded my cup and had an uneventful drive home.



And I wish I had some pictures at the synagogue, but they have varying rules about pictures and I did not want to step on a custom.  And that reminds me of a very funny joke that's too long to include here. :D

Two Meg appearances in three days.  W00T!

 Oh...  I ignored this dress before going.  I wish I wore it instead of the wrap.  The wrap looked good but this one is HOT.

Hey...  Did I say "two Meg in three days?"  It turns out it was three Megs in five days! ... continued ...

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Spiritual Meg, Part I

Friday night, I planned to go to a local synagogue.  I deliberately planned to not go to my synagogue.  I know a lot of people there and I don't want to encourage gossip.  And, although we are a fairly liberal congregation, a lot of the people I know are older and maybe not so open to seeing the guy who fixes their computers in a dress.  I think most people wouldn't recognise me, but all it takes is one.  And they may recognise my voice, no matter how Meg I make it, it still has that New York nasal undertone.

I was going to go to a synagogue in Burke.  At least one reader attends there, and I used to be a member until maybe fifteen years ago.  Then I checked the map ~ it would take almost 40 minutes to get there.  The services started at 8, which was OK.  Many reform synagogues switch to a "summer schedule" and have services earlier during the summer months.  More conservative synagogues match service time to sunset.

I knew there was at least one reform synagogue closer to me.  A quick google found it.  They have services at 6:30 during the summer.  I know they're a smaller congregation.  I knew I could get out of work early.  I looked at my options.

430-530: dinner time
530-730: get Meg ready
730-800: drive to synagogue, probably be a few minutes late

or
415-615: get Meg ready
615-630: drive to synagogue
830 or so: home, dinner

I went for the latter.

Meg before synagogue

I could be home from work in plenty of time.  I had already picked out a dress and undergarments and had a plan.  I decided to stop on my way home at Burlington to see if I could find some new jewelry (yes) and to look at some dresses (no).  I picked up some groceries next door and went home.

I showered, shaved close everywhere, and was way ahead of schedule.  I considered making dinner before I went, but I wasn't really hungry yet.

I put on my dress and... I didn't love it as much as I thought I did.  I tried on a few different dresses and finally decided on the one pictured here.  It's navy, wrap style but not a wrap dress.  The deep V required a cami; I wore a black shaping camisole which looked pretty nice.  But when I was done, everything was different from what I originally put aside!  (A female friend said "that's a very girl thing to do".)

I went outside ~ again, no-one was there ~ and had an uneventful drive to the synagogue.  I easily found parking and walked in, just a couple of minutes late.

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Or What?

So it's Friday night and I'm in a strange town and I'm looking for a dressy Meg activity.

I can dress like I just got off work and stop at the mall ~ that's always a possibility, but I don't really need to mingle with the teens who are hanging at the mall.

I could do dinner, but my plans were for a later dinner with Aeify (her blog is here) when she arrives.

So I checked the local synagogues.  I go to services occasionally, more often when my boys were younger than now; this year, I haven't been since October.

For those unfamiliar, there are three main branches of Judaism:

* Orthodox, where men and women sit separately and there are three services a day.  I wasn't sure where I'd sit so that's out.
* Conservative, which is more egalitarian but they usually focus on the Saturday morning service.  This is where I grew up.
* Reform, which I usually attend.  There's more of a Hebrew/English mix and the tunes would be more familiar to me.  Friday night is the big service of the week, with Saturday morning a close second.
* (and Reconstructionist, which is more fringe and I've never been)

So I looked for reform synagogues and found Or Chadash, which billed itself as "A warm and welcoming community where all can experience God."  I looked at their calendar and found a discrepancy so I sent an e-mail asking which time was right.  The woman who wrote back said I'd be "welcome at any service" and told me the main service starts at 6:30.

It was also the closest to my hotel, a plus for me.  Google maps said it was about 20 minutes away.  It looked pretty straightforward: turn right, turn left and that's the road it's on.

I got out of work a bit later than I wanted and people were still trying to get last minute advice.  My 2:00 leave turned into 2:25 and I headed for Tucson.

Andrea was off; there were a couple of guys behind the desk.  I checked in, carrying three bags: computer, suitcase, and a smaller bag with Meg stuff.  Not all of Meg's stuff, but the bag was crammed,

Earlier in the week I did a dry run.  I tried my makeup and decided I didn't like either mascara so I bought a new one.  I tried an eyeshadow that looked too dark so I switched to a lighter blue for my lids.  I tried each of the lipsticks and glosses and found a combination I liked (but didn't love).  I tried different jewelry combinations until I found the one I like best.  I wanted to video chat with a friend or two, but the wifi at this hotel is pathetic.  Regular web pages would time out.  I passed on that potential frustration.

So I had sorted everything I was going to wear and put the makeup and jewelry together with undergarments and such in that bulging bag.

I was at the hotel with plenty of time for a leisurely shower and thorough shave and to correct any mistakes I might make while doing my face.  I didn't do anything that needed repair, but I wasn't really thrilled with the final product.  Something didn't look quite right to my eyes.

I wanted to leave at 6.  Any earlier and I'd have too much time before the service started.  The time before Jewish services is a social time, and although meeting people is bothering me less, I didn't want to be the only person who knew no-one and I'd be staring at my hands.  I didn't want to be late, but if I had to sit in the car for a couple of minutes to be just about on time, that would be OK.  Since the ride was straightforward and google said 20 minutes, I figure a couple of minutes after six would be fine.

As I said, google said it was a straightforward trip.  My GPS had other ideas.

It said it was a 30 minute drive, not 20, said the GPS.  OK, I did leave at 6 and I'd be about on time, even if google was wrong.  No worries.

As I drove down Alvernon, the long street that the synagogue was on, my GPS decided I needed to turn, that Alvernon did not continue.  I dutifully (stupidly) turned.

It had me make a couple of more turns, then wanted me to go onto a street clearly labelled "No Outlet."  I declined, and turned in what I thought was the right direction to rejoin Alvernon.

When I finally caught up with it, I ignored the lady's voice and just kept driving.  The GPS started showing no road, only green fields and she was silent.

Eventually, I was back on what the device thought was a road.  It told me to turn and I did not ~ no fooling me again!  Alas, now I was on a different road: Alvernon made a right turn and continued.  I went back past the turn and back again before I did make that turn.  Alvernon fooled me once more with another left and I went past it, turned around and went back.

I considered taking this as a sign and giving up... that's the funny thing about signs.  I was very late, but was it a sign that I should go home, or maybe I was supposed to avoid a problem at the start of the service, or maybe it was a test to see how committed I was to going to services that night.  Or maybe no-one was paying attention and I just went on aimlessly.  Or everyone was paying attention and they had bets on how late I'd be.

By the way, driving an hour in high-heels isn't bad at all.  Getting up is, since it puts more strain on your calf muscles as you're pressing the pedals and your foot has to straighten more.  I had an uncomfortable few steps until my legs settled down.

Or Chadash is a campus of several connected or nearly connected buildings.  I parked at the closest spot to the entrance where I saw cars, which meant it was furthest from where I wanted to be.

It was dark, but not yet cold.  I didn't have a coat but I felt fine.  My heels seemed to make a LOT of noise on the sidewalk and I walked past the office which was well lit and occupied and I'm sure people inside were wondering why some woman (hey, I was far away and it was dark) was walking to the services a half-hour late.

Oh... typical Friday night services are 60-90 minutes with an "oneg" afterwards: wine, bread, other assorted fruits, cake, cookies, coffee.  So I missed somewhere between a third and a half of the service.  And I planned to skip the Oneg ~ Aeify would be waiting.

This is getting kind of long, so I'll finish this up tomorrow.

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Picture Only

I'll have time to write today, but for now a shot of temple-ready Meg.