I just wrote a long blog that was basically a pity party in essay form. Poor me, why can’t I get to the depth of the holiday without dealing with all the ‘superficial’ aspects of the day. Why haven’t I been invited to 50 seudahs. Aren’t I cool? Wouldn’t everyone jump at the chance to have the ‘interesting’ Kinderlehrer’s? Blah blah blah.
Yeah, well, I’m done with that. You know why? Someone I love and admire called me the ‘bomb-diggity.’ Yeah, that’s right. I am the bomb-diggity! I haven’t even heard that phrase since the 90’s and all I can do is smile. And giggle. This friend is someone I would have written off as too good for me. She is someone I would have placed on a pedestal, and then slowly torn down in my head, because I couldn’t stand that she was so perfect. Then I got to know her.
It was so simple. I just asked her to be my friend. Not exactly in those words. But I gave her a chance to be human. And she took it. And my life is forever enriched because of it. And this friend, this perfect friend, guess what… She doesn’t wash her sheets often. And you know what? The immense joy and self acceptance that her dirty little secret has given me is invaluable. Because now I can be me. And she thinks that me, my dirty sheets, and my gross bathrooms, and all the dishes in my sink, not to mention, my insecurity, vulnerability, weirdness, and desperate need for connection, all that—it’s the bomb-diggity.
And so this Purim, I am going in costume. I am going to be the bomb-diggity. I will wear my awesomeness and own it. I will smile at those who don’t smile at me, because that’s what bomb-diggity people do. I will walk into your homes with my half-assed mishloach manot in a badly decorated paper bag, and give it to you like I’m giving you a golden basket with magic beans and a bottle of Kosher Crystal. And you will say, “Man, I just got a gift from the bomb-diggity. I guess that makes me a little bomb-diggity too!" And then you’ll notice my son’s pillowcase costume and say, “Gee, honey, that is a great costume!” Because we want him to feel like he’s the bomb-diggity too, even if his costume is lame.
And then I think we should have a bomb-diggity dance party where we do dance moves like 'the sprinkler' to Micheal Jackson’s Thriller. And if anyone can break-dance, well, I am personally inviting you to this awesome soiree. (I had to call my sister to figure out how to spell soiree.) Now she's the bomb-diggity too.
And just writing this bomb-diggity blog is making my day so much better! I invite you all to bomb-diggity up your days simply by using the words bomb-diggity in every other sentence. Seriously. It rolls off your tongue and makes you smile. And whomever you say it to will definitely smile and then there will be more bomb-diggity smiles on this earth.
So have a bomb-diggity day and spread your bomb-diggityness all over and be your bomb-diggity awesome selves.
1. Being the bomb-diggity
2. Now knowing how to spell soiree
4. Finally getting some sleep
5. My sister, who is the bomb-diggity and knows how to spell soiree, and asked me to type this
6. MC Hammer pants. Just because
7. Obscure 90's references