Forgetting your name

I heard someone I truly respect saying that we, modern people, especially from, so called, first world, tend to be very self-centered and pay too much attention to social services and etc. He also said that we become very easily frustrated when somebody forgets our name, or spells it incorrectly. I listened to him and then said I didn't agree, because it is natural for a person to be conscious about its name and want others to remember it correctly. If somebody forgets your name or doesn't bother itself to spell it properly, it means that person is inattentive, shallow and above all, doesn't care about you enough to bother oneself and memorise the name, I said.

The other day Ezra and I went grocery shopping and ran into a very lovely girl. She's not exactly friend of mine or anything, but she's one of the few people I hug. I mean, Germany is not very hugging country, even people who emigrated here have become (or essentially were) icy cold and which hugging you ask for, when they even forget to greet you. You know, it is nice to hug friends and be hugged too. This girl has always been different - very polite and kind. We know her family and been invited for dinner once too, and I felt quite close to them -- lovely people.
Anyhow, we saw her at the supermarket and went to greet her. We talked about this and that, then her phone called, it was another mutual friend of ours, who happened to be there too and wanted to join us. Sure, this girl said, we'll wait for you. Apparently, the person on the other line asked, who were "we", because my friend hesitated and blushed, couldn't answer immediately and turned to me, asking what was my name. She then apologised thousand times, she said it was because we hardly see each other and she didn't know how could she forget my name.

I remember back in school I had a really nice teacher, but she called me Sofia all the time. It used to upset me really, I tried to explain her politely it was Sophie, but she never seemed to hear. So I started to dislike her even though she was always nice to me and I even liked talking to her about different subjects.

 

Now suddenly I was happy. I know, this is crazy, but it was like illumination for me, seriously -- because I experienced exactly same what my friend was talking about the other day. I realised I didn't mind much someone forgetting my name, not because I am so humble that didn't think of myself important (no I am selfish enough, trust me), but I thought I shouldn't judge people in any case. You never know reasons - she might have been tired, or sick or anything, or we really don't see each other that often so she could have my name in her head all the time.

Well, mostly I felt happy because I sort of fought over my conscious self, didn't get upset and assured her it was all right while sometimes we even forget our own names, let alone others'. Don't we? ;)

'Fun Enough'

I love my name.
Rather, I'm obsessed with it. It's not a very humble way to say that I want to have my own bakery, or a shop: "Sophie's", "The Sophie Golden Shop', "Sophie Golden's". I've been always hiding my true calling you know. I'd love to have my own colorful bakery, serve people, talk with them and all. My mother would say, 'so do your master's and become professional psychoanalyst!' Ok, I'll do that, but I'd love to do something different, walk and talk, and smile and have fun - when I see there's no fun, I can't do.

I'll be 25 in a month and I still can't get enough of fun :|

P.S. My curly hair is back - I washed it in the morning, and I still feel real-sophie-goldenish. Curls just express my personality you know, that's why it is so difficult for me to change the haircut.

Lucky number 8

I've never believed in signs, numbers, but I've always believed in luck.

I mean, you may do everything you can, but you can't push the Luck to be on your side. Call it fortune, fate - whatever, I believe in it. Hashem should help you with it.

I believe that G-d loves me a lot.
Everytime I need something it comes to me this way or another.

Well, yesterday we had to make a choice and take out the number (for the hair and make-up lady visit on Sunday) to reveal the winner of the free hairdo and make-up. Girls started saying: 5, 7, 4, 10... Suddenly I remembered that number 8 is quite symbolic in Judaism, so I asked them to take the number 8. Everyone agreed, I'm sure they thought the same about it. But - under this number was only my name, Baruch Hashem! YEAH!!! My very name. I am the winner of the free makeover.

You know I love experiments, but now my hair desperately needs to get beauty treat anyways. Thus, G-d helped me. I don't care if someone call it just a coincidence, or Newton-Archimede's principles. I know Lord is always with me and helps me in even such not-so-important issues. On my georgian blog, I wrote about Woody Allen's 'Match point', where he's talking about the power/luck which makes tennis ball bounce over the net or fall right out of it. In tennis they call it luck, when ball touches the net and falls over, and what do you think I'd call my hair-thing?

Have a great Shabbat!!!

(Don't forget, G-d is everywhere!)