JDaters Anonymous
Group therapy in a blog.
I Would Fly 7000 Miles…
1318 years
And I would fly 7000 more…and I will. Going to Israel, in search of the perfect man. Or at least a city where everywhere has wi-fi.
Oh, I will blog again. But it might be a while. So, to keep you entertained, I present some FOJDA (friends of JDaters Anonymous)–PassionateLife tells you about his wedding plans…ChayyeiSarah gets her long-deserved link for this post about the nice Jewish gir who edited Playgirl… and you can also click on the members of my blogroll. Check them out, leave them comments, and be sure to check back for new content soon.
Happy new year!
This Year, Different New Year’s Resolutions
018 years
Work on book proposal. Work on other book proposal.
Get Jewish Week deadlines done. (One, two, three.)
Hustle for more freelance work.
Write insane piece for PresenTense about dating advice books and try not to hurl myself off a building to avoid having to finish it.
Pray that in the land of miracles, there will be a deadline-related one. Or four.
Be sure not to overstay my welcome at the homes of my gracious hosts.
Edit Issue Two of PresenTense.
Blog, blog, blog. Did I forget one? Oh yeah, blog. Oh, dangnabit. Blog. Blog. (No, seriously, I can quit anytime I want.)
Go to the kotel once a week during my stay, put in refuah shlemah notes for the people who are suffering–those who are dear to me, and those whose names I do not know.
Spend as little money as possible.
Pray. To something or someone. About something or someone. Peace, health, freedom, redemption. No big whoop. Just coffee talk…with “the big guy.”
Find the words, express them aloud and in print, in the hope that they sprout turbo-jet wings and fly to where ever they’re supposed to go.
Wishing you all a happy new year, wherever you are…and hoping you’ll forgive me for light posting…
Dating Advice From Celebrities: Harry Shearer
418 years
What? Harry Shearer’s single? Nope. But that doesn’t stop JDate’s JMag from asking him for dating advice that’s completely unrelated to the promotional tour for “For Your Consideration.”
GREG: You’re a married man; do you have any relationship advice for the singles on our website?
HARRY: Relationship advice… That would amuse my wife, if she heard that question being posed to me – there she is now! [phone ringing]. “Honey, don’t tell them that!†Just when you think it’s important to share your feelings about something is the moment when you should think twice about it…
I really wish he had just advised everyone to take their dating game to 11. Because it’s one higher than 10.
Fetishizing Frumkeit
1118 years
I just know that this is going to be one of those posts…the ones where comments get out of control and the subject matter extends into the NC-17 area and everyone starts arguing. But apparently–and this will be no news to (or reflection on) some of you–there are people out there who fetishize religious objects, behaviors and people. And now that I’m on Facebook, I apparently have a whole group of researchers combing the internet for weird Craigslist postings. And since I had to read them, now I have to share them with you–not to titillate, but to inform. So if you’re one of my more religious readers who is offended by the intersection of fornication and frumkeit, turn this demon machine off now. I warned you.
We’ll start with one that’s not so out of control…looking for a nice “shiksa with a thing for frummers/hasidim?” Who isn’t? This post isn’t crazy–just some nice non-Jewish woman who’s looking for a frum guy to show her a good time. She’s even willing to consider conversion. So, why the attraction to frumminess? Not sure. But while this predilection may be unusual, at least she’s not a total wacko.
Avenue Q taught us all what the internet is for. So it shouldn’t surprise us when someone posts a graphic desire to give oral satisfaction to religious women only. Or, as the dude himself puts it, “I only do frum women.”
If you want a nice Shabbos meal followed by a romp in his bedroom for “desert” — and if you follow the vilna gaon’s “sheetah” on gardening “your business,”–this is the dude for you.
Last summer, I was sitting at Tal Bagels in Jerusalem when a dude started talking to me about what I was writing. I told him “a singles column” and he said, “oh, what kind of sway does rabbinic yichus have when shadchanim are arranging matches?” I said I didn’t know–that’s never come up in my dating life at all (even though someone in my family, and in his, come to think of it, claimed to be related to the Vilna Gaon). But now I’d have to say that there are even dudes who not just want someone with rabbinic lineage, but actually get turned on by rabbinic yichus.
And of course, if brevity is the soul of wit, admire this guy for cutting to the chase: ” I want to have a real scandal in my family by doing it with someone not jewish.”
The beauty (and the shame) of Craigslist is that there’s always more. If you want it.
(For more discussion on this, see Jewbiquitous.)
Is “Playing Hard to Get” a Non-Issue in the Digital Age?
918 years
This past Friday night, I did a Bloggers’ Roundtable at the Town & Village Synagogue in downtown NYC, featuring participation from the venerable bloggers of BlogsofZion, Kesher Talk, Shabot6000 and Jewschool. And my column in the Jewish Week for this week focused on “Dating 2.0“–a new model for approaching relationships in the digital age. So when a reader/attendee at the roundtable approached me afterwards and asked me about “playing hard to get” and whether women should engage in this, I thought before answering.
My immediate response was that playing hard to get, a la “The Rules” was ridiculous. That there’s a number of days minimum that women should wait before agreeing to date a particular gentleman caller seems antiquated and a little too game-oriented for my taste. But anecdotal evidence does seem to suggest that men do enjoy a bit of a challenge–if something or someone is accessible, it doesn’t seem to be as thrilling or filled with accomplishment as something that’s a little less so. So being available at every moment–or to quote Ms. Roberts-as-celluloid-hooker, “a beck-and-call girl”–might not be the best idea either. Not always being available when he calls also helps to avoid becoming his melancholy booty call baby or his inadvertent friend-with-not-all-the-
benefits-you-were-looking-for, and might help weed out people who don’t have a serious interest.
But once you’re playing the game, there are risks. Not being available can also be interpreted as lack of interest. (Not disinterest, which is something different: see William Safire in this weekend’s NY Times Magazine.) Plus, in the digital age, people are a lot more accessible than they used to be. Back in the day, if you left your house or your office, you couldn’t be reached by telephone. You were off the grid. But today, people can always get a hold of you, via phone, cell, email, pager, Sidekick, texting or whatever. “Hard to get” isn’t the problem.
So my response is this: one should not “play” anything. But constant availability, to the detriment of your own emotional well-being, is also not good. It’s about knowing your balance and what you want out of a relationship. If you want long-term serious, don’t settle for being an FWB. If what you want is an FWB, then don’t get involved with someone who wants a long-term relationship. If you tend to get sucked into long IM conversations with “potentials” who never make a move beyond the message window, just say no. If you tend to respond too eagerly when a potential calls, screen your incoming calls…you can always call them right back if it’s urgent, and if it isn’t, it can wait, and probably should.
So in short, gameplaying, bad. Knowing what you need, good.
But that’s just one person’s opinion. Now’s the part when you tell me that I’m wrong, or that I’m “right, but…”
Intimacy Intermezzo
1218 years
[reposted from MyUrbanKvetch]
I walk into Starbucks and take a seat, setting up my computer near an available outlet. Behind me, a couple sits at a table and ponders the state of their relationship and the slate of medications that they’re currently on. The woman, an attractive Latina in her thirties, tries not to sniffle into her decaf skim macchiato, while her companion, a fortysomething man with wild, graying hair and strongly accented speech, makes excuses for his mental state.
He runs through the litany, one after another, in a cascade of whining so cliched that it seems like a mantra or a roadblock in a bad romantic comedy. He’s not ready, he’s not mature, he likes her a lot and enjoys her company but isn’t ready to “take life serious.†She pleads meekly, barely audibly, to the man from whom she wants something more. She whispers, her pain muting her words. He prattles on, loud enough for us all to hear. I feel kind of bad listening, taking notes on their conflict, but I’m a student in the university of life; when a high-volume lesson comes along, I take notes, no matter where and when.
He soldiers on, “trying not to lie to her” and “trying not to be one of those people,†but that he can’t rise to the level that she wants. “Why can’t you just leave things the way they are? I’m immature. I never grew up. I can’t rise to the level. I won’t do it to you or to anyone else. I’m damaged goods. My parents screwed me up. I had bad parents. I’m bad news, I’m telling you. I don’t have the goods that can make you happy. I like your scarf.â€Â
He recaps what he wants (to not be serious) and what she wants (a relationship) and notes that the two are incompatible. All the while, I eavesdrop on the attempted honesty and feel complicit in the deception. Every time he says “I’m not going to lie to you,” the “honesty” of what comes next seems suspect.
“I enjoy your company,” he says. “Let’s change the subject. Is anything good on TV tonight? ” “CSI,” she says, somewhat weakly. Meantime, I perform my own autopsy, on the conversation itself and on these two pathetic peopleâ€â€one incapable of connection, the other making a poor choice in her heart’s pursuit. They transition from the serious to small talk about stores that have gone bankrupt and closed, despite the fact that they were a great addition to the neighborhood. After some deliberation over that most citycentric of conundra–where the original Original Ray’s Pizza actually is–the two pulled up their conversational roots and took their leave of my living conversational laboratory.
As they walk out the front door and disappear into the throng of Saturday night dates on Broadway, I exhale as I intone, “Wow.” I can’t believe that they had such an intimate, personal, shoulda-been-private conversation in a public arena, at that decibel level. What circumstances could have led to that conversation in that space? I cannot imagine for the life of me making that choice…to reveal my soul to another is a choice I seldom make even when privacy is assured. But to engage in such self-exposition before the eyes and ears of my fellow daters and Saturday night dissertation writers is something I cannot understand. As a writer, I’m glad they were there, granting me an insight into the conversational reality of relationships that is absent from movies and TV dramas and plays.
And that’s why I sit there, representing the writers–plugged into the outlets in the walls and plugged into the relationships of fellow citydwellers, our individual creativity ebbing and flowing in a collective as we look to the human parade before us to distract, inspire and spur us on as we continue to churn out the pages that we hope will–someday, to someone–make a difference.
Let the Games Begin: “Surfing for a Sweetheart”
1118 years
There are endless sources of stress for a single person during the holiday season. Most of them center on the annual rite of passage known as “Determining What You’re Doing For New Year’s.” For years, this question has plagued me–seldom do I have a satisfying answer when the question is asked.
Occasionally I’ve thrown parties, which has been great, but stressful; other times, my friends have thrown parties, which have been great, except I drink too much and then have to stumble home. But on the whole, the “do you have a date” thing was so annoying that I was really glad to be going to Israel over New Year’s this year. I could evade the question and the event entirely! In fact, I could even pretend that we were still in the old year, if I wanted to!
But then I read this. A Miami Herald columnist is writing about her quest for a date by Valentine’s Day. That’s right–skip the December dilemma and head straight for the February FUBAR. Because in case you’ve decided New Year’s is stupid, this column will be here to remind you that Valentine’s Day is coming, and God help you, you’ll need a date for that too.
Aside from an initial “oh great, I have to worry about February 14th, too?”, I wish her luck. But more than that, I hope she stumbles across some essential truths that make it easier for the rest of us to date, or that she at least experiences some funny stories that she’s able to share with the class. But I have to say I’m skeptical. But if this quest does succeed, maybe one of us at JDA will do an online blog challenge like she is…it’ll be like The Biggest Loser, but with dates instead of weights, and online instead of prime time.
Relationships on Film: What Do We Really Want?
1518 years
I’ll admit it–I really liked “The Breakup.” Not because I’m like all into the Vaughniston thing (may it rest in pieces), but because finally, it presented a celluloid relationship that was flawed, and even sarcastic or mean in parts. It felt realer than the swelling music of romance as lovers race toward each other across a field, or he “has her at hello,” or “she rescues him right back,” or they meet atop the Empire State Building and know from the second they see each other that it’s just right. I mean, call me a cynic, but puh-leeeze.
It’s because of movies like these that I’ve spent most of my adolescent and post-adolescent life with a romanticized view of love that’s nowhere near approaching reality. I know this, but still, I’m wired to believe that this kind of romance exists. And that’s why it’s good for America to have films that portray relationships as difficult, nuanced, tenuous–which on the day-to-day level is often more of a series of logistical and emotional negotiations than a romantic blur of kissing, hand-holding, companionship and epic music. “The Breakup” tells you right in the title–this isn’t your standard rom-com. And yet, the first audience comment I heard at the screening I attended was: “Well, that’s two hours of my life I’m never getting back. That was the worst movie ever.” But that’s not what the female, twentysomething moviegoer really meant. She meant: “I wanted a happy ending.”
A new film, “Flannel Pajamas,” according to the NY Sun, will likely also disappoint the disgruntled rom-com seeking audience member I overheard, but may just help us all understand that relationships aren’t all magic and romance and happily ever afters. As writer Steven J. Snyder says in the article:
Turning its back on the sentimental for the universal, this isn’t a pick-meup tale of how we wish life was, but a loving embrace of a movie made by filmmakers who know a thing or two about how it actually is [...] What’s powerful about “Flannel Pajamas” is that these two remind of us of flawed couples we know  personalities of people who fit together, but not perfectly. Like trying to force a puzzle piece into a spot it doesn’t fit, Stuart [Justin Kirk] and Nicole [Julianne Nicholson] function if they push as hard as they can to make their relationship work, but without the added effort, they will never be what the other needs. And yet they try, committed to building something that’s more good than bad, believing that affection is enough to overcome the obstacles of family, friends, dreams, and emotions. Amid this struggle, “Flannel Pajamas” becomes one of the few movie romances to own up to the truth: In the end, marriage is about a whole lot more than just love.
Wouldn’t that be an interesting message for today’s impressionable minds to leave the theater with? That, even when there’s an instant connection, love still takes work? That relationships aren’t instantly the solution to your problems?
I know I’m like a Grinch stealing relationship Christmas. Reality sucks, but that’s where we live. “The Breakup” got decent reviews, but wasn’t a major success–maybe people still flee to the movies to escape their lives, and if their problems follow them into the plot, they’re not happy. But is that happiness delusional? And is delusional happiness healthy, in the long run, if it alters our expectations to an impossible level?
Trying Not to Put the “ho” in Alcohol
2318 years
In talking with a friend one night this week, she mentioned that she ordered alcohol on a recent first date. I’m no Puritan, but I was kind of surprised. I assumed that people don’t drink on first dates, because I generally don’t drink on first dates.
Men don’t seem to ask me to bars on first dates, or if they do, the bars in question are of the coffee variety. Which of course, just makes me jittery. But of the handful of “bar dates” I’ve been on, neither of us has ordered alcohol. There was one where I ordered wine and the guy ordered a diet soda. But other than that, my dates were pretty dry.
Maybe that’s why I’m still single–because I’m not drinking enough on dates. My feeling was that since alcohol makes me a little amorous, slightly loopy, and more than a little sarcastic (if of an increased vocabulary and fairly entertaining), better a first date should have a good and solid first impression of me than that I end up doing or saying something I’m not going to be happy about later. But maybe I’m going about this all wrong. Maybe I should start drinking on first dates. Or maybe, even before.
Do you have a policy about drinking or not drinking on first dates?
GayGevalt: The New Events Calendar for GLBT
018 years
From lectures to parties, from concerts by gay Jewish rappers to quiet singles dinners, now Jewish members of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender community can seek the kinds of community events they want on GayGevalt.com, the new events calendar for GLBTs.
According to the official press release: “GayGevalt.com draws on all facets of the community to contribute to the calendar. With continued input, and with over three hundred events already posted, this community resource promises tremendous growth.” The calendar promises to appeal to the diverse interests of members of this community, and to link up all the organizations created and maintained by GLBT Jews all over the country.
(Yiddishists everywhere are unlikely to approve of the name. But that’s to be expected.)