The Pandemic Haggadah

1. Cleaning the House of Chametz
We’ve all been cleaning anyway. This should be easy.

2. First Cup of Wine
Congrats to those who still have wine in their homes.

3. Wash Your Hands
This is what we’ve been training for! 

4. Karpas
Dip your vegetables in saltwater to disinfect.

5. The Four Questions
How is this night different from all the other nights? IS THAT A JOKE?!

6. The Four Sons
If these children have two parents present, they are illegally gathering in a group of six.

7. The 10 Plagues
The 2020 Bingo list.

8. Dayenu
God, it’s enough already! 

9. Pesach
Smear Purell on the doorway.

10. Matzah
Crackers are a great apocalypse snack option.

11. Marror
A preview of when all that’s left in the pantry is herbs.

12. Second Cup of Wine
Lean to the left, toward a robust social safety net. 

13. Wash Your Hands
Once is not enough!

14. Charoses
Throw everything left in your kitchen in a bowl and add cinnamon.

15. Korech
Throw everything left in your kitchen in a bowl and add cinnamon and make a sandwich.

16. Dinner!
Who among us still has eggs?!?

17. Afikoman
Only hide it in/on previously sterilized surfaces.

18. Third Cup of Wine
Time to start fermenting grape juice in the bathtub.

19. Elijah
Check his temperature at the door. 

20. Fourth Cup of Wine
Only two less than the daily average.

21. Next Year in Jerusalem!
Or literally anywhere outside of our homes.

This is 30

Almost Thirty

They said it was impossible. They said it defied all reason. They said only a fool would believe it could happen. But it has. Asher Lurie has turned thirty years old.

Some fans may remember Ashie as the guy who won the greatest rock-paper-scissors game of all time, only to immediately destroy his prize. Others may know him from this viral video. And a handful of you are thinking of the wrong Asher. But all can agree that Asher turning thirty is about as unlikely an event as anything that has happened in 2017 (too soon?).

So in honour of this auspicious occasion, I begged Ashie to let me roast him in front of the family after his birthday dinner. I'm not saying I killed it, but even Granny Pat laughed. Here it is:

The Best Tweets of 2016

Not every year is good. But there's something good in every year. Here are the best tweets of 2016.

Movin' On Up (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Condo)

Free BBQ! (Photo Cred: Cousin Carrie)

Before I left for Virginia, I told Asher that he couldn't move out. The parents had already talked about selling the house and moving into a condo downtown. Ash was the last bastion of defense. As long as he lived at home, my Mother would never downsize and leave her son on the streets (the Dad was neutral on the issue). But it only took a few months before a slippery Argentinian named Dan persuaded Asher to move in with him (it's actually very easy to get Asher to agree to something - as long as the conversation is long enough, he'll stop paying attention and start nodding his head). But the nod turned out to be legally binding, and before you knew it, my childhood home was on the market.

I didn't panic yet. I still had two sisters in the game who could exert some influence. Surely Dani and Lisa could talk the parents out of exchanging our memories for lake views and subway accessibility. But the hardcore fans of this blog will remember that Dani is a wildcard who answers to no one. And even though there was no ice storm to assist her treachery this time, she still decided to go ahead and be a great real estate agent and garner multiple offers on the house for the parents. I don't know where Lisa was in all of this. Probably sleeping. 

So the house was sold and it fell to Hallie to convince the buyers to withdraw their offer before the grace period ended. Sadly, her negotiation skills were just not up to snuff. Either that, or the buyers had played "Where Has Elmo Gone?" before and weren't falling for her tricks. Avery wasn't born yet, so we didn't have the good cop/bad cop option that I am certain would have cracked these people. 

My contingency plans exhausted, I had nothing left to do but mourn my loss. I thought about all the simple pleasures this house had given me. I loved the way my Dad fussed around at his "snack station" and the way my Mom announced that she was home with such relief every time she came inside. I loved the way Dani sat on the stairs to greet anyone who arrived home late at night, the way Lisa danced in the kitchen, and the way Asher always said "come in" when I knocked on his door, even when he was asleep. I loved the way we all left notes for each other on the message board and how we never figured out the optimal way to load the dishwasher. 

And then I realized that Avery had been right this whole time! Those memories weren't about the house, they were about the people inside of it. True, it was our family home, but the family would still be together in the new place. And who knows what other little things I'd come to treasure about the way we inhabit the condo. That's one smart baby. 

"When I think of home I think of a place where there's love overflowing." - The Wiz

Gobsmacked

In honour of Mother's Day, I wish to present you with one of my favourite stories of Lynne Lurie (aka the Mom aka Lynnesky aka Mommmmmm-Asher's-bugging-me!!!). Anyone who has met this fine lady knows the following three things: a) she has a classy accent b) she makes an unreal zucchini soup c) she is unfailingly kind. Growing up, I knew that I could come to my Mom with any problem and she would soothe my worries with her dulcet Zimbabwean tones and a dose of soup and I would soon be right as rain. Well, dear readers, my faith in my Mother's supply of unending comfort was tested one fateful day at age fifteen. Of course, the event took place in the one area of the planet sure to shatter any childhood illusions...

The Best Tweets of 2014

I think this list is even better than last year's. Keep up the good work, twitter! And congratulations to all those who made the cut - the internet is a better place because of you.

Bonus fun fact: for the second year in a row, one of my favourites is a tweet about "Ice, Ice, Baby"

Another High School Caper

High School Shira was exactly as cool as she thought she was

By popular demand, Shirby's Dream World is proud to present another high school caper. This one is not as comedically tragic as the code red story, but it is equally shocking in its unpredictability. This is a story about a sentence that has haunted me with its thrilling complexity since the age of seventeen. A turn of phrase so mysterious that it transformed an otherwise normal school outing into a life-altering misadventure.

Every May, around forty students and four teachers spent a weekend up north at an entirely student-run leadership retreat. In 2007, I was one of those students. (I also went in 2008, but nothing nearly as remarkable happened that year). We played sports, did trust exercises, talked about school issues, and met people from different social groups. This was just before Guitar Hero invaded our lives, and so I view it fondly as one of my childhood's last weekends of innocent, wholesome fun. 

So effing cool

How I Won My Seder and You Can Too!

This post is dedicated to Rachael's night shift and Stein's bookmarks' bar. 

 

That's right, I sit at the head of the table and drink from a fishie cup

Seders are supposed to be a celebration of our freedom. We used to be slaves in Egypt, but God made the Egyptians drink blood and then killed their children, so now we're free! Seders are also meant to maximize the enjoyment of the kids - to keep them interested and excited as their four questions are answered. BUT, this is a tall order because seders are also long, heavily ritualized, and mostly conducted in a different language. Three things children (and their handlers) tend not to love. But fear not, dear readers, your Shirby has the answer:

Seder Bingo. 

Intrigued? I bet you are. Here's how it works...

Hilarious History Vol. 1 - The Tennis Court Oath

The year is 1789. For context's sake, it is a few years before the French people will start singing about whether other people hear them singing and a little bit after those across the pond demonstrated their dislike of tea by throwing it into said pond. So, as you can tell, it was a time of great revolutionary fervour. 

The place is France. No need for context here, I assume you know where France is.

Shirby's Laws

Undeniable laws of nature set down in print for the first time. 

There is no non-disgusting way to throw out gum.

You will always be able to find the episode of Saved by the Bell where Zack has a knee operation somewhere on TV if you look hard enough.

Nobody is socially confident in an elevator.

When listening to music on shuffle:
If you do not skip any song, you can tolerate all of them.
As soon as you skip one song, you skip 95% of them.
If someone else is listening, you skip 99.8% of them.

Dry glitter will become glitter glue when it makes contact with skin or floor.

The optimal amount of Chicken McNuggets to eat in one sitting is, unfortunately, seven.

It is physically impossible to win the bonus round of Supermarket Sweep.

Reading this sentence will make your eye itchy.

Chocolate Milk through a straw tastes 17x better than Chocolate Milk not through a straw.

Furious George (Guest Post by Asher Lurie)

Shirby's Dream World is proud to present a guest post by none other than Asher Lurie (aka the brother). Once thought of as Henderson Avenue Public School's most promising writing talent, Asher has provided a thrilling tale of friendship, triumph, heartbreak, and ultimately, redemption. He reminds us with both humour and humility that even victory can end in defeat.
- SL

George throws rock 

There are moments in life that change you. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. But as they happen, you know that the inner workings inside of you, the true essence of your being, has been irrevocably altered. It is in these moments that you are able to see who you truly are. And I, my friends, am a fool. A damned fool. Here is my story:

Code Red

The following events are true and unaltered. 

My grade ten English teacher, Mrs. O, was a cross between Professor Umbridge and the Trunchbull. By that I mean, she was self-righteous, cruel, and enormous.* Her class was so tortuous that each seventy-five minute period felt like a life sentence, so much so that by the hour mark I was usually contemplating the humanity of capital punishment. I tell you all of this so that you understand the complete jubilation the class felt when she told us that there would be a code red drill during this period the next day. God had smiled on us: we had been given a fleeting respite from Mrs. O's tyranny and we intended to savour it. 

My artistic rendering of Mrs. O

A code red occurs when a dangerous person causes a threat to the school, like a shooter or a bank robber on the loose. (The latter actually happened the following year and we had a REAL code red). Much like the mandated procedure in case of nuclear holocaust, students and teachers are meant to take to the ground for safety: hide in a corner, turn off the lights, lock the door. At least, that is what you are meant to do. Mrs. O had an entirely different plan. 

The Best Tweets of 2013

This is what my year looked like. Also, let's hope nobody tweets anything funny in the next two and a half weeks or I am going to look like a grade A fool.