Posted by Ilana Angel
I have learned that in order to date an Englishman you need to embrace soccer. Not only do you need to sit through countless conversations and games of “football”, you need to embrace the team that your man loves. My delicious English boyfriend is a diehard Chelsea fan and so even though my beloved father was a Manchester United fan, I am supporting Chelsea.
By supporting of course I mean pretending to be interested in a game I do not understand. To be clear, I watch because the men are gorgeous, and over the past few weeks I have developed a crush on Roberto Di Matteo. He is the interim head coach of Chelsea. He is a very sweet man, who wears a gorgeous topcoat, and makes me flutter a little bit. I am a fan of his.
Roberto has led Chelsea to victory in every game played since I met my Englishman. I have read his interviews and he is simply divine. He talks about team spirit, uniting his team, and supporting all the players. He is soft-spoken, charming, handsome, and talented. He knows his team, knows the game, and knows how to win. It’s time for him to be named Head Coach.
The Chelsea team is owned by the 68th richest man in the world, Roman Abramovich. He is a Russian Jew and while I don’t know much about him, I assume he must be a smart guy to have amassed such a fortune. You don’t get to be that successful without some smarts, so with that in mind I have to wonder what the hell he is waiting for in terms of hiring Roberto full time.
To Mr. Abramovich, you seem lovely. By lovely of course I mean crazy rich, so please allow me to share my humble opinion. You need to hire Roberto Di Matteo as the Head Coach of Chelsea. He has proven that he is able, willing and ready to do the job for real. He has earned the respect of his players and that is a great thing. He has been doing the job, so give him the job.
Not only should you give him the job, you should give him a bonus for the incredible job he has done. You are in the finals of both the FA Cup and the European Championships. That is in no small part due to the efforts of my Roberto. Be a mensch and do the right thing Roman. Hire my fake boyfriend and give him a nice bonus as a show of gratitude and appreciation.
You can write out his bonus check to ILANA ANGEL. Just send it along and I will get it to him. Just a little something to show you care about him. I will take a minimal service charge of course, but not to worry, he will get his share. Send it Roman. To me. One check, in the amount of your choice. Just take your number, add some zeros to it, then send me a check.
I also want you to know that should you want a cute journalist from America to cover the game for The Jewish Journal of Greater Los Angeles, please feel free to send me tickets. I will need 10 tickets of course, as I cannot go without the Englishman and assorted guests. I will report about the game, support Chelsea, and kvell about the delicious Mr. Di Matteo.
To the blue boys of Chelsea, you have turned me into a fan. By fan of course I mean I don’t understand this game that you all love so much, but I do love your bums, the chanting, the celery, and the fact that my Englishman is so happy that you are in the finals of both championships. I wish you well and I believe you will win. Not one championship, but both. This is your time.
As an outsider looking in to this sport and the men who play and love it, I find myself excited about the finals. It will be fun to watch with my Englishman as his excitement is as exciting as the game itself. I will probably never love this game, but I will love my Englishman and I will love Roberto. I will also love Mr. Abramovitz if he does the right thing here.
Important to note that the right thing needs to happen sooner rather than later. It would be awesome if Roberto could go into the finals as Head Coach. It would be nice for him, for the team, and for the fans. I will understand if Abramovitz waits until it’s all over, but even if Chelsea loses, Roberto should get the job. Will it happen? I’m keeping the faith.
12.12.13 at 8:05 am | Well played my son. Well played.
12.11.13 at 6:58 am | I watch in awe and stare with envy at these. . .
12.5.13 at 3:16 pm | Heaven has received a blessing today.
12.3.13 at 3:05 pm | Every time I go into the kitchen I half expect to. . .
11.30.13 at 10:42 am | "The only correct actions are those that demand. . .
11.29.13 at 1:56 pm | My nest will never empty as my son will always be. . .
9.15.13 at 3:14 pm | I love you Russell Brand. (440)
12.12.13 at 8:05 am | Well played my son. Well played. (367)
12.11.13 at 6:58 am | I watch in awe and stare with envy at these. . . (312)
April 24, 2012 | 10:47 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
I understand that people lie. It happens millions of times, every single day, by millions of people. Lies can hurt, but do they hurt more or less than the truth? There is a very clear line between a telling a lie and deceiving someone, so I wonder if I would ever choose a lie over the truth.
I have raised my son to not lie, and with the exception of some recent issues with getting homework done, he does not lie. He will at some point I suppose, because that is the way of the world, but I hope when faced with telling the truth over a lie, he will choose to always tell the truth.
There are different rules for different subjects of course, but still, should the truth not trump a lie? Especially in a relationship? If you are in a relationship, whether its something just beginning or something long standing, is it not in the best interest of moving forward to tell the truth?
Ashley Madison has become a multi-million dollar company by encouraging people to lie. They believe that lying in a relationship is not only good, but can actually make your relationship better. They preach that if you have sexual relations outside of your relationship, it will make it stronger.
If a woman asks a man if she looks fat in a certain dress, the answer should always be you look beautiful. If she does look fat in the dress, is it a lie to tell her she looks beautiful, or is it just giving her the answer that she was fishing for? If you answer with her right answer, is it a lie?
Can you sleep with two people at one time and love only one? Is it possible to be in a committed and loving relationship with one person, and have meaningless but satisfying sex with someone else? Can great sex really be had with no emotional or intellectual connection from either of you?
Do the rules change if you are not talking about sex? My son lied about his homework and it hurt my feelings, but is it going to damage our relationship? If a man lists his height on JDate as 5’11” but he is 5’5”, it is a lie but is it also a deal breaker? When does a lie become unforgivable?
I don’t forgive easily. By easily of course I mean rarely ever. I just don’t forgive. I am a decent human being and so I expect the same from the people I am decent to. It makes me lovely, but also stupid because it sets me up for disappointment because there are expectations.
I am dating someone new and we are doing the dance that people do when they are getting to know each other and develop feelings. He is a wonderful man. I truly adore him and beyond that, I love his children and flutter at how he is with my son. It’s all very special and exciting.
I asked my new gentleman friend a question last weekend that I had no business asking. I was curious about his past relationships so I asked. It was a stupid question, in the same category as do I look fat in this dress? A ridiculous question that I chose the answer to ahead of time.
I thought there was only one way to answer, but he gave me something else. It was not wrong, simply the truth. I asked a trick question and he gave me the truth. I was stunned for a minute because it was not the answer I expected, but it was shocking that he actually answered truthfully.
This man was more concerned with the truth than lying to give me the answer I wanted. Did this make him mean and hurtful? If he knew the truth would hurt me, and determined in a split second that a lie would hurt me more, does that make him a decent human being?
I don’t want to make the question into a big deal because it’s not. I asked a lame question and he answered. It’s not about the question as much as it was about the answer. I was hurt by the truth because I was being a girl. If he had lied I would have probably not believed him anyway.
I am raising my son to be a decent human being and a good man. It is a difficult challenge to not put my girl issues on him. I would never advise him to tell a woman she looks fat in a dress, but what about the hundreds of other trick questions women ask when fishing for answers?
I learned a lot about myself this weekend, and even more about the man I am dating. I discovered I would rather be hurt by the truth than a lie. I respect the truth and so that is what I want. I learned that this man who I am doing the relationship dance with is decent and kind.
When given the opportunity to lie, he opted for the truth and did not buy into my manipulative questions. He was a mensch. He answered with our future as a factor, and that was brave. A lie can come back to haunt you and he wanted to ensure that did not happen.
I am raising a boy to be a man, and dating a man who refuses to act like a boy. Relationships are hard but I am blessed the man I am raising is helping me embrace the man I am dating. I am on a path to love. That is the truth, and truth matters so I am keeping the faith.
April 23, 2012 | 1:09 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
If you read my blog on a regular basis, or happen to stumble upon it on one of the days I write about my son, you know that I love him in a profound way. He is perfection to me and there is nothing I would not do for this kid.
We don’t fight, but when there is a difference of opinion we tackle it head on and quickly. I am a great mother. I give him the support he needs to follow his dreams, but also stay close should he stumble and need me to catch him.
I am overprotective and certainly a worrier most of the time, but this kid has it made in terms of how I raise him and he knows it. We are happy, enjoy each other’s company, and have respect for one another.
As wonderful as this boy is, I don’t get his approach to homework. If you are given an assignment, do it when it is assigned. It’s over and you move on. My son is of the belief that you don’t hand onto it until the very last possible minute, or simply lose it.
His homework has been a bone of contention for a few weeks. He has several missing homework assignments and it is annoying to me. Not handing in your homework is ridiculous. He has plenty of time to do it, yet does not on a regular basis.
He is in a competitive school and missing one piece of homework can take his grade from an A to a B. It is silly to not do it, hand it in, and not have to worry about it. My kid is just not getting it because his homework is still missing weeks later.
First he told me it was handed in and the teacher lost it. When that was not flying, he said he did it but forgot to hand it in. When that was not going to cut it, he said he forgot to do it. My facial expression was finally enough to get the truth.
He did not do the homework he was asked to do. So now he has lied in addition to not doing it. I am disappointed that he lied, disappointed that he did not do the homework, and disappointed that he does not seem to get that it matters.
I woke up to this email with the title “A Blog”, and one line that said “I love you Mom”. Please allow me to share this blog, written by my 16 year old perfect son, who believes with all his heart that I will be swayed by his charms.
I love high school. I am having the time of my life. I have an amazing group of friends, fantastic teachers, and very supportive parents. I am really lucky to be able to attend the school that I do. I get to pursue my dreams while also getting an amazing education. However, the life of a high school student is extremely tough.
I looked at my online grades a few weeks ago with my Mom, and she noticed I had some missing assignments. She told me I had to clear them and all would be fine. The weeks have past, and the red empty missing boxes are still there. Now my mother is upset and so am I. I am disappointed in myself for a few reasons. I want to do well when I am older. That means I have to get good grades when I am younger. Missing assignments is not doing that for me. My mother gave me fair warning, yet I disobeyed and did not clear the assignments. I understand why she is mad, and it is completely fine, but I don’t think she understands how difficult a teenager’s life can get though.
Yes, I know she went through high school. I know she has already walked this path. I get it. However, life for her was different than life for me. I have electronics. A phone, a computer, a television. So many distractions. My school is far from home so I have to wake up early in the morning and get home late in the day. I’m am also very interested in a female at the moment and am trying to film a movie I have been working on. I have a lot on my plate.
That being said, there is no excuse for me having missing assignments. I just feel like sometimes I deserve a little bit of slack. I love my Mom with all of my heart. I need her to trust that I will get it done. Hold strong Mom. I can do it. I promise. I just need you to be patient and keep the faith.
Now, he is in fact charming, and I love that he took the time to write this. He is a great writer and it is lovely that he was able to express himself in this way. I also have to wonder, is he kidding me? This is cute but not going to save his tuchas.
My darling son, I may not have had all the electronics and distractions you have when I was in high school, but I had other things to worry about. Like what you wonder? Dinosaurs? Walking miles to my schoolhouse uphill in the snow?
I will agree that my distractions were different, and my workload was much less, but at the end of the day, none of that matters. You did not do the work. You had the time and made the decision that you were going to blow it off.
That was bad enough, but then you followed up your error by lying about it, more than once. It’s not cool and more than it making me mad, it hurts my feelings. I don’t lie to you so I’m not clear on how you thought you could lie to me.
Homework matters. Your grades matter. I can support your dreams until I am blue in the face, but if you don’t put in the work it won’t happen. I may be a nag, but you are the master of your own fate. It’s very simple young man. DO YOUR HOMEWORK!
I love my kid and I love his blog. I will continue to nag him because that is my job and I am brilliant at my job. All I can do is hope he eventually understands why this was so important and why I was on him about it so often.
I am blessed to have such a wonderful young man as my son. I am also blessed that he can articulate his feelings so clearly and openly. He has however, lost his mind if he thinks his blog is going to get sympathy and a free pass.
You didn’t do the work and you lied Babe. No car for a week, you’re doing the dishes, soley responsible for your cat, and I will be giving you the disappointed head tilt at least once a day for the next week. That’s how I roll Snickerdoodle.
It’s hard to be teenager in 2012. Almost as hard as being the mother to a teenager in 2012. All I can do is communicate the best I can, listen, cross my fingers, pray, hide the car keys in a place he can’t find them but I will remember, and keep the faith.
April 19, 2012 | 9:54 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
I had lunch today with two of my favorite people on the planet. One is a woman who is 17 years younger than me, and the other is a man who is 17 years older than me. We talked about work, families, life, Judaism, and sex. These two people are funny, smart, intellectual, sophisticated, warm, kind and wonderful. I don’t recall exactly how we got to sex, but we did.
Our chat about sex was interesting. We are all at different stages of our sexual lives and so it was fascinating. One is young and hoping to have a child one day, which impacts her view of sex. I have had a child with no plans for more, so sex is less pressured. One has grown kids, a marriage that has lasted decades, and so sex is comfortable and easy.
I left lunch wondering who am I sexually? At 46 I am in a comfortable place in terms of my body and ability to vocalize what I like, don’t like, want to try, and am never going to try. I am also at a vulnerable place, in that love has been elusive and sex needs to be with someone who matters. I am selective about who I sleep with, therefore sex is also elusive.
We spoke at lunch about sexual fantasies and how they are driven by the mind over the heart, and I am not sure I agree. My fantasies are driven by my heart and revolve around emotions not sex. When I am having sex with someone, there is a moment when you are together, when you look in each other’s eyes, and there is complete trust. That is my fantasy.
Love is my fantasy. When a man calls me in the middle of the day to say hello, puts his hand on the small of my back to guide me through a door, tells me I’m beautiful, thinks I’m a good mother, plays with my hair, introduces me to people with a sense of pride, and tells me his sexual fantasies in terms of our relationship, that is a fantasy. The power lies in love.
My life requires that I be strong. I am a single mother who is raising a boy to be man when my view of men is somewhat jaded. I work hard and I work a lot. I spend most of my day being aggressive in terms of how I write, how I do business, how I represent myself, and how I fight my demons. That aggression makes me crave submission in terms of my sex life.
I want a man to tell me what to do, teach me things, and allow me to take care of him. It’s not about letting him dominate me, but rather about him taking care of me. I am too old to be a teacher and don’t want to be the boss. I want a man to be the man. Not in a way that scares, embarrasses, or humiliates me, but rather allows me to relax and enjoy myself.
I used to think being bold in my daily life would translate into my sex life. Perhaps it did when I was younger, but as I get older, not so much. Sex may be the one area of my life where I am nervous. I am a lady who knows how to be a whore with my partner, not a whore who acts like a lady in order to get a partner. I want to be submissive not subservient.
Do you ever stop to think about who you are sexually? Do you think about your fantasies? Do you even have fantasies? I think many people don’t allow themselves to have fantasies because they think they must somehow be about the forbidden. Fantasies should not be about doing something forbidden but rather about doing something that will feel good.
Sex is better when there is love and the meaning of love is up for interpretation. I don’t think you need love in order to have great sex, and I don’t think great sex is a fantasy. There is a lot of pressure on people of all generations to define themselves sexually, and that takes some of the joy out of the whole thing. We need to stop analyzing sex so much.
I think about sex a lot, which is healthy, but what I need to stop thinking about is what does it mean? I want to give myself permission to have a great sex life without stressing out about what it means not only to me, but also to my partner. When did sex become so complicated? When did fantasies become all about sex? When will sex stop being intimidating?
I like talking about sex. Not the act, but the thoughts that are attached to the activity. Sex is a great thing. One of the best things about being a grown up really, and I hope one day I will be able to stop thinking about what it means. My fantasies are not sexual, but they are things that will lead to my having a sexual relationship, so I look forward to fantasizing.
I love being a lady who lunches, and today was fabulous. I like to be with smart people who challenge me, make me think, and teach me things. It’s actually something I fantasize about. I dream about finding enlightenment, being inspired, and meeting my true Jewish self. Lunch today was perfect, and though I didn’t have sex, I left satisfied, and keeping the faith.
April 17, 2012 | 12:06 am
Posted by Ilana Angel
I am not a soccer fan. My son played for years and I sat through countless games supporting him. He became an All Star player and truly loved it. I would cheer him on and wait for something to happen. Anything to happen. Running back and forth across a field for an hour was just not exciting. I was certain when my son stopped playing my soccer days were over.
He gave it up years ago but I would occasionally see a great goal on the news and think that if they could guarantee I would get an amazing moment in each game, I might be able to watch it. Since that was not going to happen, I happily walked away from the game I sat through for 10 years and moved on to the greatest sport ever, hockey.
My friend Daniel is English and he loves soccer, or football as it were. By love it of course I mean he is obsessed with it and can give you details that would indicate he is wired like an encyclopedia. His love for the Chelsea team is deep and passionate. He speaks of the players as if he was their childhood friend, which is actually quite cute.
It must be an English thing. My father was English and a diehard fan of Manchester United. I’m not allowed to discuss that with Daniel. He’s very sensitive about Chelsea. By sensitive of course I mean they are the only team that matter and other teams are not to be mentioned unless it’s in a conversation about how Chelsea kicked their asses.
I am a good friend, so in an attempt to support Daniel, I am trying to learn about his passion. He does not know my watching Chelsea will result in his having to sit though some serious reality television with me, but I’m waiting until after the soccer season to break the news to him. For now we are focused on Chelsea, and reality television will have to wait.
Not only have I watched games with Daniel, I listen to daily updates about how the boys of Chelsea are doing. I ask questions, fake interest, pretend to be fascinated, and support him like a friend should. That was in the beginning. Things are very different now. It turns out that soccer, while very complicated with its rules, is a sea of gorgeous men.
Apparently there is a rule of some kind that demands that soccer players have near perfect bodies, washboard stomachs, butts that you can pop a quarter off of, and legs you can envision being wrapped around you. Soccer players are simply divine looking, and this sport is worth watching because there is beauty and sexiness to be seen.
It’s not just the players that are interesting. The managers are intriguing men and I have narrowed my sights on two truly divine specimens. Jose Mourinho is the Manager of the Real Madrid team and he is delicious. Roberto Di Matteo is the Interim Manager of Chelsea and I have decided that he needs to be offered the manager job for real.
Roberto seems sweet to me. He is always wearing a gorgeous coat to the games, which may not matter to some, but I think is important. He is doing a great job and they need to remove Interim from his title. I don’t understand how this games works, and it’s too complicated for me to give it any serious study, but I know they are winning with him in the post.
Jose is yummy. By yummy of course I mean I want to run my fingers through his hair and have him talk to me in Portuguese. There is something sexy about him in a James Bond kind of way. He looks like a bad boy who got away with a lot because he is so handsome. He also used to be the Manager of Chelsea. It turns out soccer is all rather incestuous.
Soccer is the ultimate in reality television and each team should have their own show. From the rivalries, to the rules that make no sense, this sport is fascinating and the fans are a big part of that. Americans are into football and baseball, but this is different. This is a sexy sport in terms of the men who play, but also because people are so passionate about it.
Soccer fans are a little nutty when it comes to their teams. There is history and memories and opinions and grudges. Soccer is not as popular in the States as it is in Europe and I think it’s because woman have not discovered it. Go to a pub during a game and it’s like being a kid in a candy store. There are European men everywhere and they are easy to read.
You spot the one you like and within seconds you know what his team is, then you scream for that team. That’s all it takes. He buys you a drink, and you play dumb about the game so he can explain it to you. By play dumb of course I mean just be yourselves because unless you grew up with this game you will never understand what they are talking about.
Poor Daniel has tried to explain the point system and I’m just not getting it. I have no real interest in learning of course, but still, it’s complicated. Soccer is a game that sexy men play and sexy men watch. They are not all gorgeous of course, but if you’re lucky, you find a handsome man with a sexy accent. Soccer is a sea of men for women.
I am slowly becoming a fan of this game. By this game of course I mean Daniel, but you do what you’ve got to do. It turns out that soccer is quite fun. Each game is like a great party that could erupt into a war at any given moment. I am watching, learning, and starting to get it. Not really, but if I say I’m getting it enough times maybe I will.
Chelsea plays on Wednesday against Barcelona and Daniel is both excited and terrified. He wants them to win badly and so I hope they do. I will always love Manchester United, but today I am a fan of Chelsea. I will keep Jose in my fantasies, and Roberto in my prayers. These men are sexy and I have not even mentioned the perfection that is David Beckham.
I will probably always be more of a fan of the men than the game, but who knows. Perhaps watching Chelsea winning the FA Cup will be just what I need to embrace the sport. It turns out soccer is rather exciting, so I am going to give it a chance. To the blue boys of Chelsea, I wish you well against Barcelona, am buying my celery, and keeping the faith.
April 15, 2012 | 1:08 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
Dating is hard. Dating with young children is harder. Dating with older children in nerve wracking. My son is 16 and now has opinions about who I date. He wants me to be happy and is very protective of my heart. He has seen it get broken and so he wants to make sure I date someone decent and kind, who treats us both well.
My son does not meet the men I date until it is something serious. I have always felt a man needs to earn the pleasure of knowing my child, and few have qualified as being good enough. Unless I am in a relationship with a man, he does not meet him, and that has been my rule.
“Daniel” has complicated that rule a little bit. We spend a lot of time together, talk daily, and have begun to intertwine our lives. I have sent my clients to his business and he has become my sounding board in terms of not only work, but a man’s perspective on things I deal with as a mother.
I was recently faced with a work opportunity that had me panicked for a minute and he was my first call. He is smart and wise, with a brilliant mind for business and unnerving clarity about who I am as a human being. We have different worldviews, but he is helping to redefine mine.
We have not known each other long but our connection is undeniable. It is also unexpected which makes it scary. I have been looking for someone for a long time and when that person might actually be real, it knocks you on your ass. I have now officially been knocked on my ass.
Daniel and I are dating. We have not had any discussions about being exclusive, or removing our profiles from JDate. We are simply having a good time together, getting to know each other, and enjoying the company of one another. It’s all very grown up and civilized, which feels good.
Sidebar: The truth is I want him to be my boyfriend, I want us off of JDate, and I want to think of him as mine. I would never say that of course because I am cool and playing the dating game. That said, I suck at the dating game as you all know, so I’m more pathetic than cool.
I’m not sure if I want him to be my boyfriend because I’m there with him, or because it will make me feel better about having introduced my son to a boyfriend over a man I am simply dating. I suppose that is the real struggle when dating with children. It’s quite complicated.
Making it worse is the fact that I write a blog about my life. He will read this and either think I am passive aggressively asking him to be my boyfriend, overstepping boundaries in terms of his family, or simply a brave and lovely girl who likes him. Dating sucks.
Daniel called me on Friday to say that he’d like me to meet his kids. His oldest daughter is in town for a visit from university, so it was very sweet that he wanted to share his limited time with her. It was nice, and that he wanted me to meet them this early was quite surprising.
Daniel is not like anyone I have ever dated. I am thinking outside the box on this one and so rather than think about it too much and talk myself out of it, I agreed to dinner and we planned for me and my son to meet up with him and the girls. Everyone would like each other, and it would be fine.
Meeting kids, particularly when they are older, is really hard. They are old enough to form opinions about you, and you of them. Everyone loves a little kid because you can teach them to like you, but with an older child, you are on your own. They like you or they don’t, and if not, it’s over.
If my son met someone I dated and told me he did not like him, I would be done. That’s just how I role. Because of that feeling, I felt sick all day Saturday. My stomach was upset and I felt nervous. I was certain everyone would love my kid, but would they like me too?
They are daughters, close with their dad, and I’m sure protective of their mother as my son is of me. I wanted them to like me because I like their dad so much, and while I know I am fabulous, I was worried all day. I changed my outfit 5 times. I was absolutely ridiculous.
At dinner I was greeted with a hug by both girls and it took all my strength to not cry. I cry at everything, but this was special. I really like these girls. They are interesting human beings and seeing young people develop their own worldviews is fascinating to me.
The older daughter is very open. She thinks about things, has a generous spirit, and an inquisitive mind. She is finding her way and to hear her talk about her future is exciting. She is the type of person I gravitate to because she can teach me things. Her future is very bright.
The younger one is an observer and I found myself wanting to get up during dinner to hug her. She sits back and takes everything in. She looks at her sister with adoring eyes, and tolerates her father’s jokes with a smile that is heartfelt. The are both artistic, kind, warm, and very pretty.
To sit with Daniel and watch our kids talking and laughing made me happy. You can tell a lot about someone by how they are with their children and from that perspective, this is a wonderful man. Seeing him with my son makes my heart flutter. Daniel is good, and I have a crush on him.
We had a lovely time together. It was comfortable and safe, so in the end my nervousness was unfounded. There was never any need to stress out about dinner. We both have mature and wonderful children, we are grown ups, and this was a natural step in dating at our ages.
I’m not one to plan out the future, but I am a dreamer. I dream about how I will spend my lottery winnings. I dream about the next stage of my career. I dream about dancing at my son’s wedding. I dream about a world where there is no hate. I don’t plan for these things, just dream about them.
My relationship with Daniel will now be something I dream about. I am invested in a new way. Our families have connected and so it changes how we date. There is a level of intimacy that comes with involving children into your dating life that I was not sure I wanted, but I welcome.
I do not live my life with expectations. I do however live my life with hope. I hope things continue with Daniel, and to be honest, I do have some expectations. I expect his choice in taking this step was genuine and he will protect my heart now that we have taken this leap.
There are no guarantees in life, but there is hope, and that feels good. Love is possible today. Not only for me, but for all of you who are searching for it. I have hope for us all. I am happy. I am nervous. I am skeptical. I am hopeful. I am keeping the faith.
April 12, 2012 | 5:27 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
I am a writer, a Jew, a mother and a fan of Mel Gibson. I may in fact be his only remaining Jewish fan, but to be clear, my adoration of him is as an actor not a human being. I have written about him a few times and was planning to write about him again today, when I decided it would be better to write to him instead of about him. If there were ever anyone in need of a good Jewish mother to guide them along, it is Mel Gibson.
Mr. Gibson, it’s time to stop talking. Shhhh. Just listen because I am going to tell you things and it’s important you pay attention. You have systematically ruined your career and reputation, and while I understand you are a multi-millionaire and probably don’t care, you are also a man with an ego and a heart, so it has got to hurt that people are openly discussing how much they hate you. This is not the legacy you want to leave to your kids. (I’m guessing that you have a heart.)
I understand that people say things they don’t mean when they are drunk. I certainly have. I also understand that people say things they don’t mean when they are mad. I’m guilty of that too. What you don’t seem to understand is that alcohol makes us honest, and anger allows us to speak from our heart. Knowing this, as most intelligent people do, makes you not a very nice man. You clearly have issues with Jews and with women, so let’s hash it out. I’ll talk, you listen.
You clearly are angry with the mother of your youngest child and to be honest, I get it. I am of the opinion that she was with you for money not love, however, that does not mean you can disrespect her like you do. Even if she is stupid, a bitch, and a whore, which she may be, you cannot threaten her. She is the mother of your child and if you love that baby, you must be kind to her. Hate her privately but respect her publicly for your young daughter.
Your hatred of her is palpable and when you threaten to kill her, or call her horrific names, it makes you look crazy. We all have opinions about her and how she handled herself, but any hurtful things she has done look kind and normal compared to your craziness. I have issues with a man ever hitting a woman or humiliating her. You have done both, which is enough for me to think you are a douchelord, and we’ve not even talked about Jews yet.
You have daughters Mel. How would you feel if a man ever said to one of your girls what you have said to this woman? You would lose your mind. You need to start conducting yourself in a way that takes the feelings of your children into consideration. You are functioning as if you are the only person who matters, which is sad because you are being unkind to yourself, and right now you need to be careful because you may be the only person who likes you.
Sidebar: If you were with me right now, this is the part of our chat where I bring out the food. I tell you that I feel bad for you that nobody is taking care of you, mention that you look thin and need to eat something, then pull out a spread. Jewish mothers are all about food. We feed our children and our guests. You clearly know nothing about Jews so just trust me when I say you must eat what I give you, tell me it’s the best thing you’re ever had, then ask for more.
I am of the belief that parents teach their children hate. This belief allows me to cut you some slack in your open and unrelenting attack on my faith. Your father is, for lack of a better word, a nightmare. His view of Jews and the Holocaust are not worth mentioning, but this is how he thinks, and has taught you the same. If you were a child I could understand your blind faith towards his teachings, but you are a man and you need to stop buying his crap.
You have decided to hate an entire group of people. There are good Jews, and bad Jews, but they are not good or bad because they are Jewish. Bernie Madoff was bad because he’s an asshole. Steven Spielberg is good because he is decent. I am Jewish and I am lovely. I love my faith and while I am always proud to be Jewish, your actions sometimes make me want to be quiet in terms of my faith. That said, not today. Today you have pissed me off and I have things to say.
The movie you are planning about The Maccabees is what caused your latest decent into hell. You have denied that you spoke such vile words, but come on Mel, there is truth to the letter from Joe Eszterhas. You may not have said exactly what he is accusing you of, but you said something, and it was not good. You are angry and you hate Jews. We all get it. Denying it won’t help. Saying you are sorry won’t help either. What you need is compassion and a lesson in tolerance.
To be clear, your words, even if not quoted exactly, are unacceptable. You don’t know me, but you hate me. You hate my child, who I will have you know is a divine human being. You hate my faith, which has molded and guided me. You hate me because I am a woman and women have hurt you. Sadly the person you hate the most is you. Or perhaps it is God you are mad at. My heart and my God tell me to not hate you. That said, you are an ass and I want to smack you.
By smack of course I mean punch you in the face. I never would of course, partly because I am a lady, and partly because you scare the crap out of me. I have seen many of your films and actually quote Braveheart on occasion. You are talented and gorgeous and ugly and disgusting. All the money in the world can’t protect you from your true self and when you go to bed at night and have to listen to voices that guide you, is when I feel most sorry for you. You must be lonely.
Sidebar: At this point in our chat is when I start crying. I cry for you and your ignorance. I cry for me and my blind hope. I cry for my son and the world of hate he lives in, and I cry for my faith, which is the core of my strength and the cause of so much hate. I look pretty when I cry so you will want to reach out to comfort me, then won’t because I am a Jew and also because if you touch me I will leave a footprint on your groin. Instead you’ll just pass me a tissue.
Lots of people hate Jews. It does not make you special. It does however make you a moron. Your public displays of hate are fascinating. Is it a childhood desire to impress your dad? Is it a vicious way to seek attention? Or is it as simple as you simply hate Jews? Be a man and come clean Mel. You owe me the truth. Why? Because right now I am your Jewish mother and I demand to know the truth. I am reaching out my hand and you should grab it.
I tweeted today that I was writing about you and the responses were fast and furious. You are not a very popular man Mel. In fact, you are barely tolerated. You are also an easy target. It is easy to blame you for everything bad in the world because you have shown yourself to be evil on a lot of levels. You intimidate me. You make me nervous because you are unstable. It is important to have beliefs, and you are a man who has faith, but your faith is dangerous.
I am not going to judge how you choose to worship. I am also not that interested in your judgment of how I worship. I am willing however to have faith in you. Faith that you can turn this around. To be clear, you can’t turn around what you have done, but you can turn around my opinion of you. I should matter to you. I am a woman. I am Jewish. I am a mother. I am a fan of your work. I am a human being who is not ready to discard you. That is why I matter.
I would like to ask you questions and in return will answer yours. I want you to show me that in a world driven by hate, there is still hope that a man who has entertained me and made my heart flutter, can be decent and not the evil monster people say he is. It’s silly I suppose, and many will think I am being too kind to a man who does not deserve it, but in the end I am a Jew and my faith allows me to believe. I believe in you Mel Gibson.
Important to note that when I say I believe in you, I am speaking about your humanity. You are mean spirited, hateful, hurtful, violent, and scary. However, you are also a father, a friend, a son and a man worthy of compassion. You need a Jewish mother and so I can be that for you. I’m not aiming to hurt you, or write a scathing article about how horrific you are, but rather just a Jewish woman who wants to understand why you hate me like you do.
I will allow your voice to be heard and in exchange maybe you can ease some of my worry about a world that scares me. I invite you to sit down with me for a chat. I will listen. I will think. I will share. I will trust. Just you and me Mel. Well, you, me and a security guard. I’m brave but not stupid. I invite you to be brave too. Perhaps time with a nice Jewish girl will give you a minute of peace, a chance to catch your breath, and permit you to rethink how you keep the faith.
April 11, 2012 | 1:07 am
Posted by Ilana Angel
Last week three teenage girls admitted they drew swastikas, the word Jew, and put crap on the front walkway of the home of a fellow student. They go to school with the girl who lives in the house and they decided to play a prank on her. Important to note that the girl who lives in the house is the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors.
What I find so upsetting is that the police said it was not a hate crime because none of the damage was permanent and could all be washed away. Really? Can the fear and humiliation of the young girl who lives in the house be washed away too? The police said it was “an unfortunate incident” not a hate crime. I am offended by that. This was about hate.
This may have been a story that disappeared quickly were it not for a celebrity connection. It turns out the father of the girl who was pranked is a childhood friend of comedian Jon Lovitz, and Lovitz is pissed off. He was disgusted by what happened and quickly took to Twitter to talk about it. Thanks to Lovitz, this story is not going away.
Lovitz tweeted: “Some coward & idiot left this on a friend’s doorstep, yesterday. This is an insult to all of us.” He included a picture of the damage. He also tweeted a picture of the 3 girls who committed the crime and wrote: “The 3 girls who are bullying my friend’s daughter. They want to be known. Let them be famous as Jew haters.“
I am going to refer to it as a crime because that is what it was. Lovitz used Twitter to bring attention to what happened and followed up with this tweet: “UPDATE!!!! The three girls who vandalized my friends home with swastikas and dog crap have been expelled from their school permanently.” I’m sure his tweets had a hand in the expulsion.
The surprising twist to this story is that they where driven to the house by one of their mothers. She took them in the middle of the night so they could do their little “prank”. A mother. A grown up. A woman who thought it was okay for her daughter to carry out an act of hate. I hope her name is released so she is humiliated in front of the world.
It turns out the mother who drove the rotten little girls to the house could be charged for driving them. If that happens her name will be released and she could face a $1000 fine and/or a year in jail for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. I personally hope she is charged so she is forever labeled an idiot, just like her child.
I am very angry. As parents it is our job to raise our children to be decent human beings. What the hell is this woman thinking to drive them over and encourage this behavior? It is hate. It is bullying. It is unacceptable. It is something these girls, regardless of youth, should be held accountable for. Expulsion does not seen like enough.
We live in a dangerous world driven by hate and it’s a shame because we are supposed to be decent and kind. Religion tears us apart, yet God asks us to love each other. How can I sleep at night when I worry all day about the world in which I am raising my child? I am heartbroken about this story and want these girls to be punished.
What does it say about me that I want these children to be charged? It doesn’t make me particularly decent or kind, but it’s just too much. I am raising my son to be proud of his faith and the history of our people, but at the same time I am scared for him because being Jewish is enough of a reason for someone to hate him in this world.
I am proud of Mr. Lovitz for not being afraid to stand up for his friend, for what was right, and for Jews. His actions matter. We live in a world where kids are shot while out to get Skittles, and you can commit a hate crime and not be held accountable. It’s sad, wrong, and scary. Jon Lovitz stood up for all of us, and loudly proclaimed that we must keep the faith.