Where Do Women Get Their Self-Worth From?

Posted on October 14, 2009 by Luke Ford

Dennis Prager discussed this on his second hour of his nationally-syndicated radio show today.

He said that men tend to get most of their self-worth from their work and that married men in particular tend to work longer hours than married women.

I think that in religious life, men get more of their self-worth from their religion. Some get more from their religion than from their work.

Most attractive women, particularly those unmarried, seem to get most of their self-worth from their looks. Younger women seem to get almost all of their self-worth from their looks.

Older women and plain women get most of their self-worth from their relationships. If they are happily married, this tends to be the most important relationship.

Dennis: "I have a feminine side and I value relationships (with other men) as much as women do.

"I believe that female nature yearns for a man. This includes women who are highly productive in some field."

"Women derive a great sense of meaning from the man she is with."

"A man is conquering the world and ideally the woman is his partner in that."

"Many women have bought the idea that they don’t need a man. They left college and pursued other things. Twenty years later, they realized that this has not brought nearly the satisfaction that a good man would bring.

"A good man is profoundly filling, even more than children."

Even the queen of feminism, Gloria Steinem, married.

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Let’s Try To Be Helpful

Posted on October 14, 2009 by Luke Ford

Chaim Amalek emails:

Let’s try to be helpful and constructive for once. What sort of money-paying job could Luke, at this late stage in life and in this economy and given his physical condition*, actually get? All I can think of:

— Clerk in a Barnes and Noble
— Postal worker?
— Clerical worker for the City of Los Angeles?

*Luke, California has some of the elements of a generous welfare state. Isn’t there anything that you qualify for — disability perhaps?

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We Must Write What We Can Only Whisper

Posted on October 14, 2009 by Luke Ford

I imagine things from her perspective:

I met him in yoga in early January. He came in late. He looked a mess. He wore sweats. He had a beard and a yarmulke and tzitzit hanging out.

He was looking for a spot in the crowded room and the only one was next to me.

He looked goyish yet he was wearing the outfit of an Orthodox Jew.

What was an Orthodox Jew doing in a kundalini class?

Underneath that Jewish crap, he was handsome. He looked smart. He looked my type.

He reminded me of my ex-fiance, a relationship that lasted eight years, the longest relationship of my life.

"Do you have enough room?" I whispered.

The Guru was lecturing.

He nodded and made a place for himself by the wall.

A few minutes later, an earthquake rolled through.

"Earthquake?" he said.

I nodded.

We’d connected.

The Guru kept teaching.

I felt him checking me out. He was looking me over and liking what he saw. He liked how flexible I was and how hard my body was. He could tell that I live to ****.

He vibrated this strong sexual energy.

I was intrigued.

He was checking out every hot chick in the room.

After class, I couldn’t wait to talk to him. He was equally eager to get into me.

I invited him to sit with me outside and drink tea. I gave him my email address. Then I offered him a ride home.

I was driving a fast rental car. I love fast cars. I love sex. I love chocolate.

On the way to his place, he suggested we keep going south on La Cienega Blvd and we were off on an adventure.

He directed me to drive on to the 10 West and we whizzed through Santa Monica beside the beach and headed north towards Malibu.

He said he was an author. His latest project was on American-Jewish literature. He said he was a convert to Judaism. He said he was a bad boy.

An adult had to take charge so I finally pulled off beside the ocean and we walked on the beach and then clambered out on the rocks jutting into the Pacific.

As we clambered, he had no problem touching me and helping me over slippery places.

I had an increasingly slippery surface inside of me.

I confessed I’d just had a very painful birthday. He thought I meant 30. I was 40. He was 43.

I stood with him on the rocks facing into the ocean and my heart raced. This was crazy.

This guy bothered me. I couldn’t get over the Orthodox thing, but I thought he might be a good ****.

I led us back to the car. As we sat there facing the ocean, I waited for him to kiss me.

I looked at him. He looked back. He was afraid.

"This feels like a scene from a movie," I said.

He agreed, but when he made no move to kiss me, I started the car and drove him home.

What a wimp!

When I got to work the next morning, there was an email from him. He was eager for a piece of me.

I let him sweat for a few hours, then just before I left work, I emailed him my phone number and told him to call me.

He was an eager beaver. He called right away and invited me to the Happy Minyan that night. Fat chance! I haven’t been to shul in decades. I hate shul. It gives me panic attacks.

We agreed to go to an Israeli movie Saturday night.

He had me drive my car. He said he had a serial-killer van. Great. At least I was not dating him for his money.

He didn’t touch me during the movie.

Afterwards, we talked on top of the parking structure. He loomed above me. He’s 6’1". I’m 5’2". He surrounded me by the ledge and put his hands on either side of me and loomed in. I felt claustrophobic.

He wanted to go for a drive so we cruised Mulholland Drive and then found a quiet side street off Ventura Blvd in Sherman Oaks.

"Do you like the view?" I said.

He was hot for me. I had him rub my feet until I was feeling good. Then I clambered on top of him, facing the windshield, and his hands went right under my top and on to my breasts in two seconds.

Cheeky!

We sat like that for five minutes. I got a good mauling before I finally turned around and kissed him.

I dropped him off at his horrible van a little after 1 a.m. He was expecting me to invite him in. No way buster!

My last relationship was with a woman, Vicki*. He’d read on my Facebook profile that I was looking for women.

I’d hooked up with a college guy two months before, but it had been years since I’d had a relationship with a guy. They hit on me all the time but I diss them.

I’m contemptuous of men. It has to do with my feelings about my father.

You could say I’m a ballbuster.

When it comes to relationships, let me be clear — I’m a taker!

I don’t believe in relationships. I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t believe in anything but dogs and chocolate and sex.

Later on Sunday, he invited me to an event called "LimmudLA." He didn’t get that I don’t do lame Jewish stuff. I sent him packing and then I felt bad, that I had dumped on his enthusiasms.

The next day, we started emailing. I confessed I had a crush on him.

Our next meet was Thursday night in yoga. He was excited to see me but all I felt was shame. What if people thought we were a couple? That was clearly what he wanted. He wanted to get all cuddly at yoga. That was my turf. I had been coming for years. He was a newcomer!

I can’t stand to be close to Orthodox Jews. They’re dirty and hairy and smelly. His kipa and tzitzit freaked me out.

We had agreed to go back to his place afterwards. I couldn’t get out of it. As soon as we started making out, his beard got in the way and I felt like I was French-kissing my zede (grandfather).

(I was raised Orthodox, and graduated from Orthodox day schools. I left it as soon as I could.)

I cleared out of the hovel fast, pleading I had to get work early.

Friday morning, I started an IUD, to which I had an immediate bad reaction. I stayed in bed for the next two days. He wanted to come over Saturday night, but only if he could spend the night. I said no. I don’t like my freedom cramped, particularly not by Orthodox Jews.

Instead, we talked on the phone for three hours.

I dissed him on Sunday and didn’t call him. I spent time with my favorite dog, the only male I need.

I picked up Monday afternoon when he called. I wasn’t into him at first, but then he started talking cheeky.

I was on my way to the doctor in intense vaginal pain and his dirty talking was making me wet. I couldn’t believe it.

We talked about meeting up at yoga that night. I’d let him know.

I didn’t. I’d had enough of his right-wing Orthodox patriarchal nonsense. I had a better offer. I wanted Vicki licking me, not my zede.

After a week, I finally left him a message. "Luke, sorry I haven’t been in touch. Someone has come back into my life. I hope we can still be friends."

He didn’t respond so I emailed him the next day. Twice.

He finally responded. I asked him if he hated me. He said no, but when he did not respond to my further emails, I realized he didn’t want to be friends.

I ignored him in yoga for the next two months. Once he sat right next to me talking to his friend about all the chicks he’d been chasing.

Right, like some mixed-up Orthodox Jewish wanna-be with no money was gonna get any chicks.

I hated him. I couldn’t believe he didn’t want to be friends.

As the weeks went by, I felt a void opening up inside of me.

After two months,  he emailed me and we started seeing each other again.

I’d had some health problems. We thought I had terminal cancer. His mom died of cancer. His best friend Cathy Seipp died of cancer. I figured my cancer intrigued him.

He’s a sick ****!

He hated that I remain close to my exes, particularly my ex-fiance, but I let him know that no man was going to tell me what to do.

I cheated on him right and left. I told him I was going to Cancun for a long weekend, and then my passport wasn’t up to date, so I took a hotel in Santa Monica. When I went over to his place Monday evening, I told him I’d been alone all weekend.

Hehe.

On July 3rd, I bought dinner at Pizza Station — vegetarian tostadas, his favorite! — and drove over to the hovel.

I couldn’t wait to fight. I was ready to end things.

I snapped at him over dinner, so he gave me a turn of Alexander Technique. This calmed me down to the point where I could finally tell him what I was feeling:  "As I was driving over here, I was thinking how much I don’t like you. You don’t care about your appearance. Your life is a mess in many way. And worst of all, you’re religious."

We had sex. I spent the night. I called him just before Shabbat like everything was normal, but I had cheating on my mind.

Vicki* came over that night. I figured that was the best way to get rid of him. If it wasn’t cock inside of me, he couldn’t be too hurt, right?

It took me six days to build up the courage to tell him. I finally said, "Luke, there’s something I need to tell you. Vicki came over Friday night and we hooked up. How do you feel about that? I was her late-night booty call."

He said, "Wow. Wow. Wow."

Then he said, "So how’s your family?"

At that point, my dad called. I got off the phone with Luke, talked to my dad for five minutes, then called Luke back. He didn’t answer. I left a message.

We had radio silence for two weeks.  Then I saw an email from him. I skimmed to the last line where he said he never wanted to see me again.

I deleted his email before reading any more.

One Sunday morning, I found a bag with my clothes on my doorstep. It was all the stuff I’d left at his place.

It’s a mitzvah to return lost property.

And that was it until he emailed me six weeks later wanting to see me again.

No matter what I do, he always crawls back to me.

God, no wonder I have such contempt for men!

He said he had just finished his Orthodox conversion.

"I thought you had finished that years ago," I said. "With the RCC."

Men! They’re such liars! Posers! Hypocrites!

"I don’t care what you do or who you fool," I told him. "You will never be Jewish."

There comes a time in every girl’s life when she realizes that the man she’s with won’t cut it. I knew Luke was not marriage-material from the time I saw him. He’s a mess. He’s a mess financially. He’s a mess with his health. He’s a mess socially. He’s at war with his Jewish community. He’s at war with the world. He’s at war with himself. It’s all very interesting, but who needs the tsures?

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Can I Let Go Of My Need To Be Brilliant?

Posted on October 14, 2009 by Luke Ford

What do I want to discover? Investigate? Can I look at myself as an archeologist and start sifting through the layers? I should be curious. Most stories are about trying to find something.

What are the names people call me? Luke. Levi. Guru Luke. Scoop. Rabbi. Daddy. Cocksucker.

My favorite of those names is Guru Luke. My friend Adam* from yoga calls me "Guru Luke." I just love the sound of it. Guru Luke. Four letters to each name. It runs together perfectly. I like what the name projects. I see myself as serene and powerful. A moral leader. A master. A teacher. Lots of access to hot chicks.

My least favorite name is cocksucker. I hate it when my boss calls me cocksucker. After I reproved him yesterday morning via email, he called me. When I answered the phone, he said, "Cocksucker" as a greeting. I hung up on him. A minute later, he called back. I answered, "Good morning." I didn’t want to fight. I need his money. I just wanted to send a message.

Referring to our late friend, he said, "Your phone is sicker than Cathy Seipp."

I hate being called degrading names. It starts a cascade of degrading behavior. It ends with gas chambers.

He who has the power to name has enormous power.

When I worked construction more than 20 years ago, my Christian bosses called me names such as "Dick Sniff." One day after I secured a better job, I said to one boss after he called me a name, "I’m getting tired of being called names."

He immediately said, "You’ve got another job. Let’s make today your last day."

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The Love Rabbi

Posted on October 14, 2009 by Luke Ford

Dan Adler writes in the Jewish Journal:

I met Rabbi Yitzhak Dovid Grossman three weeks ago in a beautiful apartment across from the Western Wall. We stood at the window and looked out at some 5,000 kids preparing to say the penitential Selichot service. He turned and spoke his first words to me: “Is that not the scene of the Mashiach?!”

Here was one of Israel’s most revered rabbis — someone who’s reported to have turned down the honor of being Israel’s chief rabbi twice — asking, rhetorically, if this youthful, dynamic prayer were not a vision of what Jerusalem would look like when the Messiah arrived.

I’d heard a lot about Rav Grossman. He founded Migdal Ohr, Israel’s largest and most innovative orphanage, and I’d even, sight unseen, hosted two events to raise awareness for the Oct. 20 Maccabi Tel Aviv/LA Clippers game at Staples Center, as a unique fundraiser for Migdal Ohr. But nothing could have prepared me for what he was like in person. Everyone who told me about him — regardless of where they stood politically or religiously — went on and on about what a tzadik, a righteous man, he is, about how incredible his work is, about how he’s succeeded in matching an out-of-this world vision of helping orphaned and troubled youth with an uncanny ability to build a 65-acre campus (think UCLA for a sense of its size) to provide a full range of educational and round-the-clock support services for nearly 7,000 troubled and/or orphaned youth, from six months to 18 years old.

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Christian Church In San Mateo Welcomes A Rabbi In Residence

Posted on October 14, 2009 by Luke Ford

I remember Dennis Prager saying that every synagogue should have a sister church. Wow, the Orthodox did not react too well to that idea.

From the San Mateo County Times:

SAN MATEO — Religious tolerance is no longer enough. In an antagonistic, confrontational age, followers of any given religion have much to gain and much to contribute by the earnest exploration of other traditions, according to Penny Nixon, senior minister at the Congregational Church of San Mateo.

At Nixon’s church, the guiding principles of diversity and open-mindedness have led to the launch of an interfaith study program that includes studies of Islam, Sikhism, Baha’i and Native American faiths — and even a rabbi-in-residence.

"I think honoring and respecting other religions will not only deepen your own tradition, whatever that might be, but also make progress toward peace," Nixon said. "Part of the goal is to help people understand the highest ideals of each religion. They’re actually very similar, although we may get to them differently."

The rabbi in question is, in fact, not exactly a rabbi. Jhos Singer, who has served as the head teacher and service leader for El Granada’s Coastside Jewish Community since 2000, is technically a maggid, a title best translated as "preacher," he said.

"There are a lot of what I call big Jewish ideas that don’t translate well into English and other languages. For example, ‘shalom,’ probably the most widely known Hebrew word outside of the Jewish community, doesn’t mean hello or goodbye or peace. It means something much bigger than that," Singer said. "So every Monday I’ve been taking a big Jewish idea and exploring it with these Christian congregationers in a class."

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Luke Ford’s Secret Diary VII

Posted on October 14, 2009 by Luke Ford

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part Five. Part Six.

Sept. 8. 2009. I got into trouble today. I got too high on my bipolar spectrum and sent off a bunch of emails that I thought were funny but she found hurtful.

A son asks his mom (a friend of mine), "What’s a shiksa?"

She replied: "Your girlfriend, for a start."

Secular Jews.

***** never fails to say something stupid, something that makes me regret sharing with him.

******* would not be so upset if she did not really like me.

A lot of people have put themselves out to facilitate my conversion to Orthodox Judaism. I owe them. I don’t want to let them down. Nobody seems to know I’ve been going through this giur (conversion) for the past 15 months. I’m glad. I can’t believe it stayed private. What a relief. I hate questions about it.

I’m barely in shul these days. I just pop in and out. I don’t want to take a chance on anything going wrong with my conversion. One hater can ruin your whole life.

Sept. 13. I passed the Beit Din. It was neither easy nor difficult. I played it right. I could’ve lost my nerve and given up lukeford.net and my independent blogging and had Rabbi X sponsor me, but I did not. I went the hard way. I’m a drama queen. There’s no need to get goofy.

I can risk being vulnerable to others, just as I was with this Beit Din. I don’t have to assume the worst about others. I can be careful with them, treat them as I would want to be treated. I can be secure in myself and less likely to lash out at others.

I can walk taller in Pico-Robertson. I can accept aliyot (calls to the Torah). I’m the real deal, a real Orthodox Jew now. I’m not playing dress-up.

How many times did I fear this day would never arrive?

Sept. 14. I had my triumph yesterday. What lingers? A feeling of satisfaction and gratitude. I must shape up and fly straight. I’m driven to challenge the rabbis, push them to the limit. Most get tired of this and kick me to the curb.

Sept. 15. I embraced my bad boy last night. I celebrated the inappropriate things I’ve said. I was passionate and I connected. I came from a place of strength. Usually when I think about the dumb things I’ve said and done, I’m ashamed and shrunken and defensive and prone to lying.

I emailed **** last night. She responded. We talked on the phone. She still hates Orthodox Judaism. We’ll be friends with benefits. Will this get in the way of my getting married? I miss the intimacy. I need rest. I have felt run-down for weeks. I can’t sleep. *** will help. I slept last night with that kundalini music playing softly. I am grateful to have so much female attention. Now I want to find the one.

I have a lot of concerns about returning to ****. There remains a considerable charge. It’s always me returning to her. I have to make the first move.

Sept. 16. *** was really good. Conversation was good. We have such a strong connection. I am still exhausted. I wonder why I can’t sleep. **** listed off all these reasons why I am gay. I am thrilled I got to introduce **** to a lot of David Deida’s ideas. She’s open to his ideas. She’s open to a lot of my thoughts.

I can’t take any job while I am this exhausted. I had a good afternoon of blogging, but writing about myself rarely brings many hits or dollars. I need scoops.

I am so grateful that **** is back in my life. I was not better off without her. Most girls can’t hold a candle to her. I still don’t think that she’s ready for a relationship. I’m out of balance. When I become jealous and needy, **** is the pause that refreshes.

Sept. 17. So that was another amazing night. We both opened up. She shared her fantasies for the first time. I love how we’re unfolding to each other.

**** says I stopped talking to her. I did not realize that. We’d go to yoga and we’d get disconnected. She’s ashamed to be seen with me in public. Ashamed to think that people might believe we’re together.

Sept. 29. I’ve been sick and tired and anxious, but I am back with **** and thus I have excitement, intimacy, companionship. I’m going to the opera tomorrow night. Lisa’s invite.

Sept 30. I sit here waiting for the free parking to open up at 7pm on Grand and 8th. I’m still feverish but I am slowly getting better. I got two people off my back this afternoon by giving them what they wanted.

If **** were more free in her body, not as pulled down and tense, her neck like granite, she’d be more free socially with me. I don’t want a 50-50 relationship. I want intimate communion. I should make peace with pursuing her. So she does not always call me back? Big deal. Man up.

Oct. 1. Last night’s opera date with **** was everything I could want and more. She fascinates and excites me. She rocks my world more than any woman has. And I am more more compatible with her. I just feel happy and excited by life.

**** is amazed that everywhere we go, I run into someone I know.

When the *** runs out, where will we be? I’m wary about how emotionally involved she is with her dog.

Oct. 2. I am so scared about money. I’ve made no progress on this. I want to take action but I am sick.

Rodger…is playing with doing a one-act play based upon my ….

I’ve signed up for that storytelling workshop.

Oct. 7. My writing workshop was everything I wanted and more. Terrie is a great teacher. I love her questions. Her feedback. Her powerful laugh. What does it mean that I want to be a rock that women dash themselves against? I want to be strong.

It’s been 2.5 weeks since I got sick. I think I’m finally feeling better. It’s discouraging. I’m no closer to a solution for my finances.

That was funny and running into Mary* outside my place. She now lives on my street. Boy, did she blow me off. Did not answer any of my last four emails.

I find the writing workshop a stimulus to my spirit, to my ego, to my creativity. It’s just the thing I need — to get out of the house and meeting people and competing and working on my writing.

Oct. 13. I did not handle **** too well this morning. Maybe she will get the message. I sent the same sort of email to Holly. She’d say, I’d never know what you were thinking until I read your blog or your emails. Holly got the message. She handled it OK.

I just made the requisite phone call apology to ****.

I only obsess over **** when the circumstances of my life permit it. There are lots of exciting women out there. I’ve dated many of them. Maybe I’m slowly feeling better, but I am still weak and feverish and heavy.

The reference librarians here are hot. Young and hot and smart.

**** is a hopeless case with her anger, her contempt for men, her secular leftist values, her infidelity, her shame at being seen with me in public, her attachment to her dog…

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Praying For Unbelievers

Posted on October 14, 2009 by Luke Ford

People, usually secularists, are often asking me to pray for them. Most of the time it just trips off their tongues without much thought.

A friend just told me: " So, if you ever say prayers for us wretched unbelievers, now’d be the time… "

I don’t pray much. It usually feels like an empty ritual to me. I hardly pray for myself let alone for anyone else. I just say the prayers in the book, though that usually does open me up to talking to God a bit in my own words. I always leave prayer feeling better. It’s a good ritual but boring as hell. I prefer yoga.

Secular people seem to more often associate religious people such as myself with prayer more than with righteous behavior.

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Luke Ford’s Secret Diary VI

Posted on October 14, 2009 by Luke Ford

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part Five.

Aug. 11. I said goodbye to my therapist last night. It was lovely. She’s so genuine. She connects to that part of me that’s genuine and vulnerable. Perhaps I should expand my willingness to be vulnerable. What could I have said to **** when she told me she had fooled around. Ouch. That’s so painful. I feel like you stabbed me. I guess we’ve been friends with benefits. Until now, I’ve been monogamous because I wanted to give us a chance. And I was lazy and didn’t want the aggravation of fooling around. One woman is all I can handle.

Your attitude towards me was always cool-eyed friendship. Now I have so many possibilities.

Max* says she always struck him as a bitch interested in status. Cold. Grasping. Nothing I told him surprised him. He was surprised each time I went back to her. He says I can do better. She had so much contempt for me. She was like )))). She was ashamed being seen with me. She has contempt for men, for those with lower status.

Until last night, ******* had never sought me out. Then she asked me for a ride home. That’s a good sign. She trusts me. She’s interested in more. Conversation was effortless. She has delicate features. She’s a rebel who’s played the corporate game. ^^^^^ was so friendly and verbally combative last night. She likes me. She gets my sense of humor.

I feel like a failure. The world is indifferent to me. I’m searching for my sweet spot. I’m in between relationships. It would be so nice to have a relationship with a girl into Judaism.

I identify with Hunter S. Thompson but I hope I treat people better. I want to read and reread Lolita. I want to capture that witty writing.

My life is full. If I make an appointment with Rabbi *****, that will give me the incentive to memorize everything. I feel insecure about this conversion process but they’ve passed people who know far less than I do. If I meet someone who’s Orthodox from birth, will she be open to seeing Orthodox Judaism through my eyes? Do you like it when I am empathic? When I try to see things from your POV? Well, how about making an effort to see things from my POV.

Through my deeds and my words, I am sketching an ineradicable portrait of myself. Do I like it?

I want to be more vulnerable. I want to develop the traits my therapist liked.

Aug. 12. The girls ignored me last night. I appreciated that donation from Dr. L. He sensed my desolation. It’s been five weeks since things ended with…

I find all this minute memorization of Jewish law irksome. The fun has gone out of Torah. I’m not exactly a social butterfly. My phone rarely rings.

Aug. 13. I’m poised between a lot of things right now. Surely something, someone will break my way. Can all these women resist my overtures? I think not. Younger and cuter is better. Jewish is better.

Remember how….ignored my questions. Shut me out. What a **** she was. I’m glad to be done with her witchcraft. I fear I am not getting enough sleep and this will precipitate illness.

3pm. Oy, I mishandled J. I came on too strong and did not wait for IOIs (Indicators of Interest). I’ll keep up my cocky funny routine. She likes that.

I’m writing a lot of sentences where I lose my nerve halfway through. I want to keep it real, but then I lose my courage. I want to tell the unvarnished truth but I don’t have the balls. I fear the rabbis.

Aug. 14. Joey Kurtzman gave me a lot of positive feedback at yoga last night. He says my body has totally changed in the past year from doing Alexander Technique and yoga. I feel loved at yoga. I feel surrounded by friends. I’m thinking a lot about ****’s hot ****. I want to **** her like a *****.

I wonder why I write 50x as much about sex in my journal than I do about God. I write nothing about God. I don’t think about God. God is absent from my life. This has been my least religious year in 20 years. I am unwelcome at so many shuls. I am converting to Orthodox Judaism and my connection is more tenuous than ever. I have no joy in my Jewish practice. I don’t have many Orthodox friends. I’m not wanted in Orthodox Judaism.

Aug. 16. I had a great time at **** yesterday. I met ******. So young and pretty and passionate. She seems ideal for me. I need a hot 22yo. We share interests in Orthodox Judaism without being insular. I love how upfront she was with me. I love it that we have friends in common. Maybe they will talk me up.

She reminds me of that other Bais Yaakov girl who was a big fan.

My Shabbos was pretty close to ideal. All I need are more friends and a GF to share it with.

All I’m thinking about these days is what I would say if I were to called to speak at an Orthodox shul. I’d share stuff I learned from Alexander Technique and how it applies to a religious life:

* We have faulty sensory perception. We don’t see ourselves accurately.
* We can’t tackle certain things head-on. Some things are only available as a by-product. Some things need a teacher. Some things you can only learn one-on-one with a teacher.
* We need to inhibit our inclinations and then think about our directions before acting.
* We don’t need to reinvent the wheel. We have a system.

Aug. 17. I wonder what is going on with ^^^^^^. She made some uncharacteristically amorous comments. When I read them, I immediately thought, how does her BF feel about this? I have been friends with her for so long, I am so keenly aware of her, I wonder if I could ever love her? We are so similar. The more things a couple has in common, the better.

I was right to push Joey Kurtzman to pick up the check last night for dinner. He’s off to India for three months. I’ll miss him. He’s a true friend. A lost soul. I feel like an older brother to him.

Everybody is a role model to somebody.

I feel like my life is coming together. ****** life is coming together. It’s an awesome synchronicity.  Pouring my soul into yours. I love to feel so close to someone that words are irrelevant.

My kingdom is not of this world. It’s online.

Hunter S. Thompson’s writing style: Places himself at the center of the story, his concern with getting the story is the centerpiece of the narrative, the use of wild flights of fancy, and the use of a companion. A manic highly-adrenal first-person style. A frantic loser, psychotic, inept.

Who does that remind you of?

Aug. 18. I liked doing yoga last night with Hot Shiksa. She’s cute and sweet. I feel like we could talk for hours and it would be easy. It was funny when she asked me about my wife. I loved how she walked over to me last night and sat beside me and smiled.

I need to hustle for dollars. Squeeze out tuition for months Alexander Technique teacher training. I have to drop my pride and ask to borrow money. I have no spare time. On Shabbos, I collapse. I wonder where I can reduce spending? I’ve cut out acupuncture. I skimp on physical therapy and have skipped the podiatrist. I need to see the dentist. Every day that the available credit on my cards does not get cut is a good day. My blog is a pleasant and frequent source of funds. I can do more writing for …. How can I find time for love, romance and dating? Relationships take a lot of time. I can do all this. I’ve done it before.

I’ve got a month off from therapy. That will save $200.

I have little room for error in my life. Stay focused. Disciplined. Healthy. Strong.

I should write a story about the Camera of Death, about a photographer who goes to glamorous events and finds the squalor.

Aug. 19. I feel good about my full life. That beats the old moping Luke.

Aug. 20. I fear getting closer to people. It’s easier holding them at a distance and communicate my feelings via my blog. In many ways, that is cowardly.

I should’ve accepted the offer of money from …. when I visited him in the hospital and brought him his clothes and stuff. I have a hard time accepting what I’ve earned. I did the work. I need the money.

Converting to Judaism will be a lot tougher than ….expects. The LA Beit Din is by the book. She thinks she’ll be done in six months. Hah! Conversion is not just about the acquisition of knowledge. You are joining a tribe. It must change your behavior. I am on track. My blog posts are out there, but I am not too far over the line.

I had a nice walk and talk with my old rabbi. I hope we can be close again.

Aug. 24. I passed my test with Rabbi **** yesterday. Thrilled! I should go before the Beit Din the week before Rosh Hashanah. I don’t want to get too goofy. I must hold myself in control. I must rebuild my Jewish life.

Guru Singh says there’s nobody you can’t talk to anymore. When you say, you’re saying, I don’t want to look in that mirror again.

I’m working all day on my blogging and bringing in about $30 max. I have some time to do something marvelous with Lukeford.net. A few weeks. Then I have to get a job after the holidays.

I bet a lot of rabbis will be blown away by my posts over the next few days. With every great post, I feel more powerful.

Now that I have about finished my conversion, I can think about God again and what I love to do in Judaism. Boy, I really owe certain rabbis. Man, am I indebted to them.

I’m having vivid dreams. If I can’t sleep, I might as well go to sadhana (early morning yoga).

Aug. 28. Why is she blowing me off? I keep trying to talk to her and she keeps walking away. Weird. I thought we were connecting. Fine. I’ll just move on.

I had two setbacks this summer — **** cheating and my fenderbender.

I’ve rarely felt connected to anyone while doing yoga.

Aug. 30. I need to identify my deepest purpose. It is writing with a particular awareness of moral issues, informed by my Orthodox Judaism. Does promiscuous sex serve my highest purpose?

I am thrilled that these young women moved to my street. What a party last night. The more women in my life, the better. The more possibilities. The more chances to connect.

I can’t believe I knocked on their door and invited myself to their party.

Wow, **** has fallen off the derech. How much has changed in a year. She was all set to finish her conversion.

Sarah adores me. That makes me feel so good about myself. She said so many nice things about me to people. I owe her.

I fear that **** moves on a higher social plane than I do. Can I fly with her?

I had no idea I could pay for a year of Alexander teacher training. I’ve pulled that off. I need $15,000 to finish my training. I had so many fears when I started the training, that nobody would like me, that I’d say things that were inappropriate, and none of them came true. If I can get certified, think what I am capable of? I took a chance, I committed myself, and it will pay off.

I was willing to be vulnerable and enter the Beit Din conversion process.

I am spending less time at shul these days than any time since I was bedridden. That will change after my conversion. I’ll get back into those shuls that banned me. Yoga has been a good substitute for shul.

Sept. 4. What’s great about today? I’m not as screwed up as my friend. I can help her.

I feel like I can propitiate my sins by writing about them.

I signed up to go to the JConnectLA High Holidays. This will be my last JConnectLA event. It is for people in their 20s and 30s. I’m 43.

I’m tired of being peripheral to women. I want to be vital. I love that Aussie girl. Cute brunette. Educated. Journalist. I wonder if she’s Jewish?

If I don’t get my finances in order, I’ll never secure a wife.

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My Secret Diaries

Posted on October 14, 2009 by Luke Ford

Are you guys enjoying my secret diary entries on lukeford.net? Do you find it riveting? Do you want to know more? Ask away. Let’s talk about me for a change. I am in a mood to share. I’m live on my cam.

M. emails: "Luke, what was that picture with the dog about? Are you reminiscing on long passed times when the term “doggy style” really meant something, when you were on oral terms with the leading ladies of American adult entertainment? I frankly knew you would end up in bed with some bitch but this is elevating the funny onto the ridiculous. And please don’t tell us the dog was of the male persuasion."

Khunrum emails: "Not really. It’s not spicy enough. Neither are your "soft core porn" efforts. Why can’t you write more in the style of Henry Miller? He always made us laugh. However, this comment of yours brought a chuckle "We could spend an eternity just doing writing exercises and reading them to each other. We would both like to get an MFA". An MFA? How about something really constructive, like a J-O-B?"

I tell a friend how a certain girl is "not interested in me in that way."

He responds: "That’s crazy.  She should be if she loves G-d."

Exactly.

Casey:  I have few friends.
YourMoralLeader:  that’s why we’re here together!

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