Bobby McFerrinize This…

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My new article, “Don’t Worry, Be Single Happy,” is now available online (hopefully) for your reading pleasure. An excerpt:

As the learned sage Rav McFerrin once intoned, “In every life we have some trouble. … When you worry you make it double. Don’t worry, be happy.” This has also been the prevailing wisdom within the single-and-dating population. You project what you feel inside: if you act happy and confident then you will be happy and confident. Your inner middot (values) and good personality will seize the day and people will naturally gravitate to you. Essentially, if you feel attractive on the inside, you’ll be attractive on the outside. You will be what you projected you’d be.

Just one problem: for the men and women who are single and want to be otherwise, the years of solitude — or singularity, if you prefer — can make even the most optimistic person feel less attractive. An evening that starts in optimism can turn on a dime into disappointment; peaks exist because valleys also do. And after years of mixed messages from parents, media and well-meaning friends, the self takes a hit.

(more…)

Valentine’s Day Back and Samer Than Ever

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If you’re reading this, then you’re likely experiencing what I’m experiencing: the year of no Valentine. Of course, as you’ve likely heard me say before, Valentine’s Day wasn’t something I celebrated as a child in school, nor was it an active part of my college experience, save the one year I had a boyfriend in February. So I’m of the opinion that, were I to have someone worth celebrating, we should do so quietly, reveling in our alone time and in the miracle of having found each other, instead of going out into public, where the single people live, and making them feel bad.

That’s why at JDaters Anonymous, we like to offer reading options for our single readers, as well as some pointers for our non-single readers. Hopefully, this will make this Valentine’s Day — and the world — a better place.

For single people:
1. Plan a night with the single friends you love most, the ones who make you feel complete even in your absence of spouse, life partner or boon companion. Go to a rockin’ show, perhaps one that’s only in town for one night at the House of Blues.
2. Send an anti-Valentine card, or “>have Isaac Hayes leave a message for someone you like or dislike.
3. Realize that you’re not alone (yes, Virginia, there are other singles blogs) and help other people find community. Leave comments so people know that their voices or words are being heard.
4. Chocolate, flowers, chocolate.

For married friends of single people:
1. Scan your address book for available singles and really sit down and consider them: would any of them enjoy the company of the other? Do a mitzvah and initiate the hookup.
2. Reconsider your official or unofficial policy on PDA. Remember, it’s not just about what you’re feeling…it’s what you’re making other people feel. Remember the old school rule: if you’re going to bring candy to class, you have to bring enough to share.
3. Invite your single friends to meals at your house–maybe not on Valentine’s Day itself, but you can make the call on February 14th and make the plan for another time. It’s a way to let your single friends know that they’re important to you.
4. Chocolate, flowers, chocolate.

What else could single or married people do to help Valentine’s Day be less difficult?

Much Ado About Ego

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I admit it, my ego is bruised. In several locations. Almost visibly. There’s nothing I can really do about it other than wear the wear-and-tear like a badge of non-shame, because it’s really no honor to be treated this way, especially by entities who proclaim love and concern and end up treating you like an indentured servant. Which technically, you are, but that doesn’t excuse the treatment. It almost makes it worse, this two-facedness of a proclamation of value and support that is in the very next moment undermined and denigrated. And who would want to keep going through that over and over again, with every heartbeat potentially bringing an elation followed by deflation?

Still, we do it. Or at least I do. I know I do, and I know I’d rather not. I’d rather be Teflon, that all of this–in its murky undefinability–would bounce right off me, deflected, and given nary a thought, of either a first or a second nature. I try to focus on the goal, the dream, the aim. And sometimes it works. And the other times? That’s when I feel like this, at some sort of swirling epicenter of things way outside anyone’s control, and when a hand emerges to save me, I’m all too aware that in grasping it, I accept that what redeems me may also, in precious seconds, smack me for my naivety.

Places that have fostered growth have done so reluctantly, providing just enough water for a seed to grow, barely enough for it to thrive. And when foliage develops, everyone’s surprised, but only you seem pleased. You know you and they have both worked hard; they could have given you a greenhouse, and the glory would have been theirs. And that would have been okay.

But they didn’t. They remained miserly with their affection and encouragement, and utilized you, in the coldest, most mechanical sense, not for your potential, but according to their own preference.

I still cling to what is possible, despite their best efforts to the contrary. But this tenacious belief sometimes edges toward madness, a road that leads back to the vortex, back to the cycle of affectionate violence or violent affection. If I succeed, many will claim credit. And if I don’t, they will assign me the blame. And when the choices you’re left with are success without acknowledgment or blame without basis…it becomes a matter of self-respect.

It’s enough to drive a woman to…

Love on a Leash

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You know how closed-minded people can be? Like when you and your girlfriend get on a bus and the drive tosses you off just because you have your girlfriend on a leash and she says that she’s your pet? I know, right?

From London comes this heartbreaking story of attempted transportation gone wild enough for a collar and leash.

Tasha Maltby, 19, told British newspapers she was the “pet” of her 25-year-old fiance Dani Graves. Pictures showed her dressed in black Gothic-style clothing with silver buckles on a silver chain — which the driver of a bus from the firm Arriva took exception to. She told the Daily Mail newspaper Wednesday she was thrown off and told: “We don’t let freaks and dogs like you on.”

For the record, I oppose the oppression of people just because they wear black. But beyond that, this young woman remains insistent that this is a personal choice, and in so doing transitions from simile (“I am like his pet,” which might have been slightly more palatable) to metaphor (“I am his pet,” which is slightly more, um, unusual).

“I am a pet,” she told the Daily Mail. “I generally act animal-like and I lead a really easy life. I don’t cook or clean and I don’t go anywhere without Dani. It might seem strange but it makes us both happy. It’s my culture and my choice. It isn’t hurting anyone.”

Ah yes, but can she get the paper from the driveway? And is this pet potty trained? I kind of want to know as much as I don’t want to know.

Hugging! Kissing! Lawsuits!

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I certainly am glad for both China and Reuters’ Oddly Enough, for continuing to bring me stories of a blogworthy nature. This one, thankfully, features neither dismemberment nor bad puns blending the words dating and decapitation. (Apologies for that, really.)

This story involves the sordid affair of people hugging and kissing in public, and then finding out that this public display of affection had been recorded and uploaded to YouTube!!!

The three-minute video of the couple in their 20s was shot in September and uploaded to Youtube and Chinese video-sharing Web sites last week, Tuesday’s China Daily reported, citing a local newspaper. It drew more than 15,000 hits in two days, it said.

“A mocking voice can be heard in the background of the video. It has extremely embarrassed the couple,” the paper said. The couple had hired a lawyer in the interests “of all passengers traveling on metro trains in Shanghai,” the paper quoted the unnamed man in the video as saying. “Now every time I walk into a metro station I feel uncomfortable,” the man said.

That must have been some mocking voice.

Decapi-dated: Love Gone Horribly, Horribly Wrong

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Next time your JDate goes bad or you’re stuck in an awkward conversation, or even if you go through a terrible breakup (not that I’d ever wish that on anyone), at least you’re still better off than this married guy, who was killed and dismembered by his 19-year-old Chinese girlfriend and her boyfriend. And oh yeah, she filmed the whole thing.

The victim, 39, was a married manager at a local highway and bridge building company, the newspaper said. The girl, who was from a struggling family in the capital Beijing and met the victim as a nightclub hostess, filmed as he was killed and his body was cut into “hundreds of pieces,” the newspaper said.

I didn’t even have a category for this story. I went with Hitched/Ditched. Because in this case, I think you’ll agree that there’s no “ditching” quite so final as this one.

“Resolution Dissolution” (JW)

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Has anyone ever successfully kept a New Year’s resolution? I mean, really. Let’s face it. A New Year’s Resolution is basically an acknowledgment of a flaw we see in ourselves that is unlikely to change in the long-term. Maybe that makes me a pessimist, or a realist. But in either case, I’ve written my new column about it.

“Resolution Dissolution” (NY Jewish Week, January 10, 2008)

We’ve kissed the old year goodbye and welcomed a new one. We’ve made promises to ourselves and others that this year we’ll improve our behavior and make the world a better place. The thing is, for Jews, we already did this at our September New Year’s Eve commemoration, leaving this last day of December, as always, utterly secular, devoid of religious or Judaic gravitas, and redundant.

Just three months after repenting for Rosh HaShanah, followed by Ten Days of Repentance, followed by one additional day designated as the holiest day of the Jewish calendar year, we feel pressure to commemorate the end of a year, this time on the Gregorian calendar, and to re-promise that things are going to change. But here’s the catch— we’re always repenting, because we never really change. Otherwise, we’d only need one Yom Kippur, and it’d be a keeper. But every year, we’re back; part of the process of tikkun olam, of fixing the world, is tikkun atzmi, fixing yourself. (Really hardcore about taking every available chance to self-correct? Fear not: Tu b’Shevat, the new year for the trees, and the month of Nisan, designated by the Torah as the true head of the year, will be here before you know it.)

The new year — whether it’s secular, religious or arboreal — brings the renewed hope that this time is going to be different. We’ll have to be more open-minded. We’ll finally join a synagogue. We’ll plan ahead for tax season! We’ll be environmentally aware and exercise more! But resolutions made at the passage of another secular year lack Rosh HaShanah’s crime-and-punishment imperative that infuses regret with an active sense of moral or ethical responsibility. Maybe we even call them resolutions because we’re trying to re-solve the same problems every year. So this year, dissolve the resolutions, the attempts to change what is likely unalterable, and work within your strengths.

To read the rest of the article, click here.

Jungle Love: Meet the Piranha

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Remember when it was all about the clever acronym? Most of us heard of MILFs (Moms I’d Like to [expletive deleted]) from the lips of John Cho (before he was Harold) as he gawked at a photo of Stifler’s mom in the teen sex romp (which let’s face it, twenties and thirties enjoyed as well) “American Pie.”

Then, with the inevitable aging of the acronym, if one came across a woman of a slightly more advanced age that placed her beyond the “mom” category, one might call her a GILF. (I just report the news, people.) Perhaps searching for a more delicate or exotic way to refer to this demographic, an animal emerged as the representative of this attractive, yet older, age group: cougar.

Now joining the dating menagerie is the golddigging sort that is being referred to as the piranha, “women who use the office party to snap up a high-flying colleague, whether he is married or not.” Coinage of the phrase is being credited in the Daily Mail to a divorce lawyer who herself is a divorcee.

We’ve all been told there are so many fish in the sea to choose from. But many complain that there’s no one out there. Maybe one too many piranha have been introduced into the ecosystem, causing other fauna to flee or become food. In this world of cougars and piranhas waiting out there, maybe men are afraid to leave the house. It’s a theory.

Via dating experts Em & Lo and their new blog, The Daily Bedpost.

Got a Spare $185 Million? Buy JDate (and Other Properties)

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This just in via the NY Times (from a loyal reader):

The parent company of the popular Jewish online dating site JDate has put itself up for sale, people close to the auction said Thursday, and is already in talks with several prominent media companies.

The owner of JDate.com, Spark Networks, which owns dozens of online personal sites aimed at religious, ethnic and other special interests, is in early talks with suitors that include Yahoo; eHarmony; IAC/InterActiveCorp, the Barry Diller company that owns Match.com; and MySpace, which is part of the News Corporation, these people said.

Shares of Spark, which trades under the ticker LOV, have jumped more than 20 percent in recent weeks. Its shares closed yesterday at $4.90, giving the company a market value of $131.4 million. Analysts suggested that a suitor might pay as much as $185 million for the company.

Spark also owns AmericanSingles, BlackSingles, ChristianMingle and other sites, so your $185 million would purchase a portfolio of sites and not just the “beloved JDate.”

If you bought JDate or any other online dating site, what would you change?

NYC X-Mas Eve Jewparties: The JTA Recap

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Ballers (definition via Urban Dictionary)
A thug that has “made it” to the big time. Originally referred [to] ball players that made it out of the streets to make millions as a pro ball player, but now is used to describe any thug that is living large.
Ex: Pain is a part of the game when you’re a baller.

Matzoballers (definition via EDK)
Young Jews who spend their Christmas Eves party-hopping and hoping to get lucky.
Ex: Those Matzoballers were trippin’ if they thought they had it made in the shade with all them Hebrew honeys because oh-no-they-di’n’t.

Every Christmas Eve, as I’ve said before, the young Jews go a little stir-crazy. In an apparent fusion of insanity and journalistic responsibility, the JTA’s Berkman and Harris hit 5 NYC parties in one night, trying to get a flavor for who threw the best parties for Jews on Christmas Eve.

You can hear “all about it” in this JTA podcast. And by “all about it,” I mean that there wasn’t much to tell other than that the best party was thrown by the gay community. But that’s not JTA’s fault, really; the parties are frighteningly similar and non-exciting, and as one of the young newsmen noted (and I paraphrase) you reach a point when you’ve reached a point. And then you tip.

Enjoy!

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