I was mildly disappointed to see that Chez Miscarriage didn't do better in the JIB Awards. It was classy of her not to post on her blog that she's been nominated, because we all know what would've happened if she'd done that. But in any case, I rather have the feeling that one reason she didn't perform better is that although Getupgrrl, the writer, is Jewish -- and her Jewishness sometimes comes through in the writing, particularly when she describes interactions with her parents -- overall her blog is very much an "issue" blog, and the "issue" at hand is not about Judaism or Jews. It's about infertility, which cuts across religious and ethnic lines. It sort of goes back to the age-old question "Is it Jewish literature because it's about Judaism, or because it is written by a Jew?"
Anyhow, now that the JIBs are over, Getupgrrl has let her Jewishness rip in this post, where she expounds on the magic that is gefilte fish:
And now, before I go to my meeting, I'd like to tell you what my gorgeous husband bought me for Valentine's Day: gefilte fish. Yes. He drove all the way to my favorite deli and purchased homemade gefilte fish, which is more expensive than a Carribean cruise. Then, as I ate gefilte fish for dinner and more gefilte fish for breakfast, he hid in the bedroom, since he finds gefilte fish to be vaguely upsetting.
He does not yet understand the magic and power of the gefilte. The gefilte fish heals! The gefilte fish is love!
Soon he will understand the magic of the gefilte.
But the part that really makes me feel a sense of sisterhood with her is this latest post:
[Yes, I used to have 2 more paragraphs to this post, with a story about chopped liver. But I think it maybe invades a certain other person's privacy to post it on the internet without permission, so I took it down. I decided not to take down the whole post becuase the quotes from Chez Miscarriage are just so good. "The gefilte fish is love . . . the gefilte, it protects." I'm cracking up.]
By the way, it's one o'clock in the morning and I'm eating gefilte fish. TAKE THAT, EVIL EYE! The gefilte, it protects.
You know what phrase I've always hated? "And what am I, chopped liver?" It makes no sense. Chopped chicken liver is beautiful. I'm getting a little misty-eyed just thinking about it, actually. That phrase is tantamount to saying, "And what am I, a glorious delicacy more precious than rubies?"