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Moving Day

Blogger is so five minutes ago. What's new and now? Wordpress, or at least that's what my web team tells me. Don't get me wrong, Blogger's ok for beginners. But it's time to take this whole thing to the next level. So, effective today, I'm switching over--having purchased a huge can of "Blogspot remover," I'm heading over to jdatersanonymous.com. Easier to remember, and hopefully a cleaner look that will enable me to do many new and exciting blogthings. After this post, all future JDaters Anonymous posts will be on the new site. Please join me over there, and don't forget to update your links. Want to get me a homepagewarming present? Comments always help to decorate a new place. :) Catch y'all on the flip side...

National Singles Week Recap

As you all may know, September held a week dedicated to us, all the singles out there... was it as fun for you as it was for me? I believe I met a few deadlines, earned a few theoretical checks that haven't arrived yet, attended a wedding where I was the only single person there, and looked in the mirror every morning, saying "Hey you. You're single. But it doesn't matter. Because you're good enough, smart enough, and goshdarnit, people like you." How did you celebrate? I also started a top five list of the best things about National Singles Week, and only came up with three. 1. No one knows about it, so no one will know if you don't have a date for it. 2. No cards or flowers necessary--all you need to celebrate is your own overwhelming sense of solitude! Just curl up in your bed alone and cry...hey, you've just celebrated National Singles Week! 3. It's the only weeklong holiday that doesn't require you to change your routine at all--just continue to register for online dating sites that you have no intention of paying to become a member of, sit around the house with your two favorite men (Ben & Jerry), and watch TiVoed episodes of Grey's Anatomy. Anyone else?

"Recommitment Ceremony" (JW-First Person Singular)

Wishing all my readers a shanah tovah u'metukah--may this year be one of health, creativity, peace and happiness for us all.

Recommitment Ceremony (Jewish Week–First Person Singular) by Esther D. Kustanowitz (09/29/2006)

To err is human, clearly. And during the High Holy Day season, even those of us who acknowledge our errant ways and engage in the process of repentance with a pure heart still possess the fatal flaw of our humanity. As soon as the hunger pangs from the Yom Kippur fast wane, we’re back on stage in our tragicomedy of errors, slinging gossip over bagels and lox, and likely violating any Rosh HaShanah resolutions before sunrise on the 11th of Tishrei. Another year goes by, and we’re back in our synagogues, proclaiming our guilt all over again in an endless annual loop—it’s like an episode of “The Twilight Zone.”

What’s the point in persisting in this annual dance of repentance?

In the literal realm of human marital relationships, some couples, after five, 10, 20 years or so, decide to proclaim to the world that the person they’ve found is the person they still want to spend their lives with. They hold “second weddings” or “vow renewals” or “recommitment ceremonies,” inviting friends to witness the re-consecration of their partnership. But often, such ceremonies are prompted by the discovery of a breach in confidence or respect or another violation of the rules of sanctified relationships. Or perhaps the pair has survived a trauma and feels the need to reaffirm—not just for the sake of celebrating love in the public eye, but to put their own souls at ease—that despite all that has happened, their mate is still the One.

So the two stand there, opposite each other, looking into the eyes of their beloved and looking for a trust and commitment that they may not find. A partner may admit that he or she has made mistakes, and may swear before you and a group of people that from here on in, it’s all faith and devotion. But there’s a part of you that’s unsure: can people really change?

The relationship between God and the Jewish people is often cushioned in the metaphorical language of marital commitment. In Genesis, God made a covenant — sealed in flesh in the form of a brit milah (circumcision), which promised the Land of Israel to Abraham and his children. The terms of the agreement — God gives the land of Israel to the people, and the people will worship God — are reiterated at Mount Sinai. The term that God uses to refer to the people is segulah, which indicates a special, sanctified relationship like marriage.

And a midrash on the Mount Sinai narrative interprets that when the text says that the people stood b’tahteet ha’har, literally “in the bottom of the mountain,” that the mountain was suspended, chupah-like, over the heads of the assembled people — were they to try to end the relationship with God, they would have been crushed. And some suggest that Song of Songs, which describes a physically passionate affair — seemingly between a man and a woman — is a metaphor for the relationship between God and the Jews.

When it comes to actual marriage, something I admittedly don’t know anything about, I imagine that certain violations are forgivable and that others are not. At some point the two people who make up the zug (the couple) have to assess whether the relationship is worth it. But in the relationship with God, in which we have no way of really knowing whether God has forgiven us, the best we can do is see this annual assessment as a state of the union between the Jews and God.

The High Holy Day season is a chance to renew our relationship with Jewish life. Every year, we stand with our metaphorically wedded partner under a canopy of recommitment, and promise to marry each other all over again. As our Creator, surely God knows not to expect perfection — our entire relationship has been a bumpy cycle of imperfection: We violate our contract of commitment with God, and God rebukes but quickly forgives.

Still, we do what we can to make positive changes in our lives, to increase our commitment to living as nobly and morally as human beings can. We critically assess our actions and hopefully forgive ourselves as we attempt to curb evil inclinations, in the pursuit of more permanent partnerships, with other people and with God.

Shanah tovah!

Let's Get Married...Britney-Style

If you wanna be like Britney, there are a few ways to do it. 1) Let your baby drive, then drop him on his head. 2) Have "Irish twins" (two kids in under two years). 3) Get married in Vegas. Opting for Vegas (baby, Vegas)? Smart choice. And now Wedlok is here to help you in two ways: 1) To corrupt your understanding of how to spell wedlock, and 2) To tell you everything you need to know about getting hitched in Vegas. I've never been to Vegas. But I hear that what happens there, stays there, unless you need meds prescribed after or go into labor nine months later.

Flawed Facebook Fornication Foucault's Fault

University-based social networking tool Facebook is all the rage these days for the college and recently-graduated set. And sometimes social networking gets extremely socially intimate. For instance, take this story of girl sees boy's Facebook profile and is intrigued, sends him a "poke," he pokes back out of courtesy, and they set up a date. Three Stella Artoises later, they move from the common room into the girl's bedroom to "see some of my books," she says:

But when the conversation turned to late cultural theorist Michel Foucault's interpretation of religion under late capitalism, Gold and Larson found themselves at an awkward impasse. "I was shocked when he said he believed in 'a greater spirit,'" Larson told The Herald yesterday. "I mean, how was I supposed to respond to that?" Unsure of how to move beyond the topic of God and religion, copulation of the most "awkward, perfunctory variety" ensued, according to Larson.

Well, who hasn't been there...when philosophy fails, there's always fornication. Of course, there's the awkwardness of him sneaking out the next morning, and her sending him a note asking him to be in an "It's Complicated" relationship with her, which he thinks is too much of a commitment. Why be tied down, man? Especially to someone who doesn't believe in "a greater spirit"? I mean, how would they raise the kids? On an ending note, I do need to state that I believe this is a joke from the good people at Brown. The date on the story is April 3, which is close enough to April 1st to give one pause, and if you need any further convincing, check the woman's thesis title. Still, entertainingly written and conceived, and not altogether impossible in today's sexually casual but intellectually complicated world.

NY Times Vows in Video!

If you've run out of friends who decide to get married, you're undoubtedly missing all of the "how we met" stories that happy couples regale listeners with... But now you're in luck: The NY Times has launched a new Vows site, complete with videos of the happy couples talking about how they met. Allow me to recommend: 1) Sheera and Steven talk JDate, Swamp Thing and paying for your own filet mignon 2) Matthew and Shari learn that there are cool places on the Upper West Side, and how Hawaii vacations can break up your relationship... 3) Lisa and Sam meet on JDate and experience some relationship turbulence... Beware...viewing these videos might make you simultaneously long for romance and long for anti-nausea medication. Or maybe that was just me. Mazal tov to all the happy couples...

Never Never Never Trust a...

The good news is I've solved the conflict between Muslims and Jews. All we have to do is agree that the opposite sex is evil and that singles should only mix in pursuit of immediate marriage. Whaddya say, kids? Doable?

Those of you who are loyal Jewlicious or JDaters Anonymous readers may remember a post I did last year about a site for frum (religious) teens called, well, FrumTeens, which had a post cautioning girls (in 71 different "reasons") to "Never never never talk to boys..." According to "It's Muslim Boy Meets Girl, But Don't Call it Dating" (NY Times), American Muslims "equate anything labeled “dating” with hellfire, no matter how short a time is involved." (Well, they're kind of right. Or at least it feels like hellfire sometimes. But usually a trip to the doctor clears that up.)

The couple of hundred people attending the dating seminar [at the Islamic Society of North America’s annual convention, which attracted thousands of Muslims to Chicago over Labor Day weekend] burst out laughing when Imam Muhamed Magid of the Adams Center, a collective of seven mosques in Virginia, summed up the basic instructions that Muslim American parents give their adolescent children, particularly males: “Don’t talk to the Muslim girls, ever, but you are going to marry them. As for the non-Muslim girls, talk to them, but don’t ever bring one home.”

But what about online dating and email messages? Surely that constitutes innocent and pure behavior, providing a safe space for Muslim singles to interact? Not so fast...basically, the article tells us, to Muslim ears, "dating" is a euphemism for premarital sex. Or, as the dating seminar moderator put it, "All of these are traps of the Devil to pull us in and we have no idea we are even going that way.”

Still, most American Muslims acknowledge that the optimal mate-finding process--an arranged marriage--is unattainable in this day and age. But they still want to be involved in the process.

So here's the idea...a Joint Muslim-Jewish Task Force on Eradicating the Evil Process of Dating in the Modern World So That Singles Can Hurry Up and Get Married Already But Not to Each Other (Heaven Forbid). The JMJTFoOEtEPoDitMWSTSCHUaGMABNtEO(HF) may just revolutionize relationships, between Jews and Muslims as well as among their respective singles populations. And you heard it here first, folks...

Hooray for Singles!

Sometimes singles feel reluctant to admit their uncoupled status, as if it's some sort of stigma or something...well, singles rejoice! Because now we can take couples in a fight--we've got the majority advantage. According to unmarriedamerica.org, the number of unmarried Americans (which includes singles, widowed, and divorced Americans) is now at 50.3%, In your face, Married America! And if that weren't enough good news, I'm pleased to also share with you the discovery that National Singles Week is 9/18-23, which begins Monday and runs through next Saturday. (No revelry on Sunday the 24th, though. I don't know why we don't get a Sunday. That's just the rule. Don't ask me. I've got no sway with them, unfortunately. Maybe National Singles Week just "doesn't make Sunday...because of God.") National Singles Week was started by the Buckeye Singles Council in Ohio in the 1980s to celebrate single life and recognize singles and their contributions to society. So in tribute to all the wonderful singles out there, I'm asking you all to submit your nominations for "Greatest Human Contribution by a Single Person." Or some other such category. Consider it open nominations for any category involving single people. Allow me to get you started with some suggested categories...the rest is up to you:

• Most Responsible Online Dater
• Least Likely to See a Matchmaker
• Best Performance Involving an Embarrassing Situation
• Best Online Dating Profile
• Best Singles Book
• Best TV Representation of Single Life (Since the Cancellation of Sex and the City)
• Most Creative Breakup Strategy
• Best Blog on the Subject of Singles and Dating

And no, that last one doesn't have to be me. And you don't have to stick to these categories either. You know, just like in dating...no rules here. Just be nice to each other. After all, in the world of the uncoupled, we all have to stick together. Happy National Singles Week to all you JDaters Anonymousers....

Belated Roundup

I've been compiling some recent posts by other people that I thought were worth linking to, and was hoping that they'd gel into some larger lesson about dating, but I seem to be lacking the necessary gelatin. So here they are, sans great insight from me, presented on their own merits. Discuss amongst yourselves... Forbes had done a story on whether men should marry career women, and the answer was a resounding no. So naturally, Forbes asked one of their female writers, a career woman herself, to respond. Essentially, she tells dudes to start going to the gym. Elsewhere, a woman posts about being told by her laundry lady that she'd better hurry up and get married; the only upside is she gets Gawker traffic for it. And EW's Popwatch (with an assist from me) coins a new word that has dating lexicon potential: ventimentality. On the Jewish side of things...At the Philly Jewish Exponent, a writer gives his moderately amusing advice about what to do and not do at your next singles event...Draydel writes about having been to a singles weekend, and discovering that men have insecurities too, she feels a new empathy for them, which is very magnanimous and open-minded of her. But I suspect there's no forgiving what happened to this friend of Chayyei Sarah's, who went on a date with a guy who was already on a date with someone else. I only wish I were kidding. A real disturbing story that might make you hate men (or at least, men who behave like the dude in the story did). So consider yourselves warned. And in other news, I'm nearly broke. Donations accepted via PayPal and in the form of magical voodoo rituals that ensure prosperity. No goat sacrifices, please.

Smokin' Singles: A Dream Becomes a Google Alert

A few years ago, I met someone through the internet. He was a real sweetheart online, but with a serious edge when we met in real life. He lived far away, which wouldn't necessarily have discouraged me if the chemistry was right. But when we met, I think it was immediately clear to both of us that it wasn't a match. Plus, he was as devoted a smoker as I was a writer. Despite my sending him an occasional email, we fell out of touch; because there was really little point, I guess. Last night, I had a thought before sleeping that crossed into a dream state--I knew a girl for this guy; she had spunk, and humor, was a Republican, was passionate about Israel, and she was a smoker. If the distance were no issue, I would set them up. Not like being a smoker was the only reason to match people up--if the goal was to recruit new smokers or get the old ones to stop, a smoker/non-smoker pairing might be a better strategy. But the smoking factor, combined with the other ones, made me feel like maybe I should get back in touch with him, if only to put him in touch with her. They could be smokin' hot soulmates. Or they could be a total mismatch despite having things in common. Or the distance could prove too much for both of them. Who knows? But who was I to stand in the way of a potential match? And how else would these folks meet each other? It's not like there's an online dating service for smokers, is there? And this morning, there it was, in my GoogleAlerts folder--"Dating for Smokers Launches SpeedDating." DFS was started by UDrive Dating, a corporation that covers niche markets like Large and Lovely, Color Blind Personals, and yes, Smoke-Free Dating. (No reason not to cover both sides of the market; next up, "I only smoke when I drink, and since the NYC smoking ban, I can't smoke anywhere anymore and it sucks" Dating.) Anyway, this taught me that either a) I am a dating site prophet, or b) anything I might possibly think of has already been done. So the choice is believing myself prophetic or unoriginal? What will the lady choose...

Coming Soon, a Change

Because of various Blogger problems and a customer service department that rivals JDate in the race for the coveted title of "Ignoring Your Customers," I'm going to be moving this blog over to a new Typepad-powered site. So look for a new template, new graphics and photos, and most importantly, a new URL that's shorter, sleeker, and 50% more flame retardant. More on this situation as my technological ability develops. Stay tuned!

Are You Broken Up? MySpace May Know...

Are you and your special lady in a relationship? Are you sure? Are you and your boyfriend, like, totally broken up? Are you sure? In the electronic age, there's only one way to know: check all of your significant other's online affiliations. Because he may still be cruising JDate, or she may have changed her MySpace designation from "In a Relationship" to "Single," or your special someone may not be ready to move forward with you and only you--and you'll find out because her Friendster relationship designation is now "It's Complicated."

But what are the rules? How long are you supposed to wait to change your status after a breakup — or, for that matter, when a relationship begins? And beyond checking off status, what should you do with sexy comments a fling has posted? Or when do you downgrade an ex’s online avatar from your list of top friends?

But really this isn't news. Relationships are always complicated. The only way to make sure you're on the same page is if you sit down and have a conversation. Close that IM window, kids--I'm talking about a real conversation. You know, the kind you have over dinner or even over the phone. Yes, I'm radical. And still single, actually, so never mind, I have no idea what I'm talking about. Don't do drugs--stay in school!

"Wedding Bell Blues" (New Jewish Week Column Online)

From "Wedding Bell Blues," my newest column now online:

Weddings are magic. The details have come together according to plan. Two people have found each other and decided to spend their lives together, no matter what fate brings them. The bride looks like a queen; plus, she has special powers.

On her wedding day, the Jewish bride has the “Bridas Touch” — a temporary condition in which, particularly under the wedding canopy, her marital fortune is contagious. While she’s under the canopy accepting a ring from her betrothed, she gives single women her regular jewelry to wear, for added luck. The remainder of wine from her glass is also imbued with special powers and distributed to single wedding guests; this “segulah” wine is a Red Bull energy drink for the uncoupled, increasing the inherent bashertiness of the imbiber.

The bridal wizardry begins even before the ceremony. When the mothers of the bride and groom break a plate before the ceremony, signifying that a kinyan, or transaction, has taken place, the shards are given to single women for good luck. At my brother’s wedding, I reached into my purse during the reception, and promptly sliced my finger open on such a lucky shard. Luckily, a handsome doctor with a great sense of humor came to my rescue, cleaning the wound with vanilla vodka and suturing it using frayed napkin strands. After cocktails and dancing, we hid from the crowd under the Viennese Table and he told me he loved me — that table of delicious pastries serving as chuppah to our love. (Or if you prefer the truth to literary license: The finger-slicing was followed by a band-aid, and a hora, during which some other dancer impaled her four-inch heel in the center of my big toe.)

For more, click the link above.

Being Single is a Draw

I always said that you could find a magazine quote to support any position...and if anyone doubted your methods or the opinion's validity, you could always say, "Oh, it's true, I read it in a magazine," because even if you hadn't, it was probable that you could have. Nowadays, it's all about the internet, of course, with new magazines and webwire services launching daily, and with a steady stream of surveys that prove pretty much anything. Well, you'll be happy to know that being single has its pros and cons. For instance, depressed people who walk down the aisle experience alleviation of their depression. Unless, of course, they marry the wrong person and experience a post-wedding life of conflict and unhappiness. As the article says, "People who were happy before getting married and end up in a marriage plagued by distance or conflict -- qualities associated with a depressed spouse -- might be better off single." (Ya think?) But, married people, on average, are fatter [typos from the original survey, which calls into question its veracity...].

One reason could be that married people have more relaxed attitudes in terms of body image, whereas singles may view themselves as part of the "marriage market" and will go to greater lengths to say fit, says Robyn McGee author of Hungry for More: A Keeping it Real Guide for Black Women on Weight and Body Image.

But single people die sooner:

A study by the University of California, San Diego and the University of California, Los Angeles professors found that out of 67,000 Americans, those who never married tended to die earlier than those who were divorced, separated or widowed.

And on the other hand, being married is no guarantee for longevity... married women who hold back on expressing their feelings also die younger than women who express their emotions:

Women who reported usually or always keeping their feelings to themselves when in conflict with their husbands, known as self-silencing, had more than four times the risk of dying from any cause compared to women who always show their feelings, the researchers said.

And of course, there's the old joke. Married people live about as long as single people; it just feels like it's longer. But I know these are all true. Don't believe me? I read it in an online magazine. Or five.

This Just In: Some Men Still Jerks

Over at the Jewish Journal's singles column, we learn--once again--that online dating can be emotionally perilous...even during the correspondence portion of the experience. After finding a profile that looked interesting, intrepid dater Diane Saltzberg zipped over an email, asking the potential mensch what he meant by wanting to hear from women who were "fit." I know...those of you who have been there and have a few extra pounds on you (and really, so many of us do) are saying, "Girlfriend, why'd you do that? We all know that men who put 'fit' in their profile mean that they want someone skinny! You shoulda just skipped him!" Well, we couldn't get to her in time, but the dude--who she dubbed "Mr. Sensitive" for reasons that will become clear and involve heavy sarcasm--responded in a way she'll never forget.

"Your profile is extremely well-written, as is your note. You are clearly very, very bright, as am I. That's why I can't understand why you'd be in such absolute denial of a clear reality. You didn't fill in your weight in your profile because you're not happy with it. If you were, it would be there and you wouldn't be writing all that senseless crap about Jane Mansfield, with whom you have absolutely nothing in common.

Look in the mirror, see the same thing anyone can see in your photos: You are soft, untoned, out-of-shape and, yes, fat. Then, either fix it or accept it, but don't try to make believe you're not. And certainly don't try to convince others you aren't because it makes you seem absolutely crazy. Now go do the right thing."

I felt like I had been hit in the stomach. His e-mail was breathtaking in its cruelty.

We've all asked this question before...who does such a thing? Who fancies himself so impervious to criticism, so above and beyond reproach, that he feels entitled to make someone else feel like crap, when a simple "Thanks for your interest, but I don't think we'd make a good match" might make a frustratingly generic, but merciful and menschy response? Or, as the writer puts it..." Why be gratuitously mean?"

Why indeed. It's the $64,000 question. She's willing to give JDate another chance--some of the rest of us have had it. But I would urge those of you who are out there and might be "inspired" to share your noble opinions, in the name of "tough love" or whatever in a similar mode to the above, please, opt for the generic, menschier response. Believe us, it makes you a better person.

The whole article is here, complete with her email address at the end--feel free to send her a note of support and commiseration...

"Coming Attractions" (new JW column is online)

Greetings columnizers. My newest Jewish Week singles column, "Coming Attractions," is now available online. Coming Attractions by Esther D. Kustanowitz New York Jewish Week, First Person Singular August 18, 2006

When my friends and I moved to New York City after college, theater and high culture were out of our price range. But at the movies, we found affordable, air-conditioned entertainment. Popcorn was always extra (in terms of both coins and calories), but a secret bonus was included in the price of admission: Before the film started, we were treated to numerous movie trailers, designed to entice us into future movie ticket purchases and to create buzz for upcoming film releases. We’d predict how many trailers we’d get, and be delighted when we got more than expected. Based on how good each preview was, we’d make our decisions right there — “no way!” “totally!” and “maybe on DVD.”

In the dating world, several mechanisms operate as trailers, setting us up with overly vast expectations or none at all, and causing us to make instant judgments about the people we meet as romantic potentials. If we’re looking, we’re often “treated” to previews of the main attraction before we even determine whether the featured presentation holds any attraction at all. The movie judgment mechanism is activated. Bearing little information, we discard potential dates before we ever meet them, or elevate our expectations to such a level that no man or woman alive can ever hope to reach them.

To read the rest of this article, visit this page at EstherK.com.

Online Dating So Easy a Monkey Could Do It!!

According to the AP, orangutans (don't call them monkeys! I mean, except for clever headlines...) will be using the internet to find mates. Zookeepers are planning to hook up single orangutans from the Netherlands with others from Indonesia. (Those meddling zookeepers, always trying to marry off the singles...) Sources (and by "sources" I mean "there are no sources, so wait for the joke to hit you") say that the single orangutans' parents insist that their kids don't need the internet to find a mate, and are shocked that scientists are plotting the dating and mating of their offspring to orangutans from another country. First of all, we all know how hard it is to have long-distance relationships:

[A spokeswoman for the Apenheul ape park in the central Dutch city of Apeldoorn] said the chance of two orangutans actually mating as a result of the online interaction was small due to the problem of transporting them between the Netherlands and Indonesia. "But I wouldn't rule it out completely," she told The Associated Press.

And if you add the cultural differences and the language barrier, it makes for some awkward family moments: she wants a traditional Dutch ceremony, and he wants to raise the kids Indonesian. For more hot international orangutan action, click over to this article that tells you all about how single orangutans will meet and mate using the same internet that you use for your, er, Amazon shopping.

"The Love Computer"

Last week, mid-heatwave, I saw a couple--visibly sweating into their clothing, causing darkening patches to puddle on their backs, chests and under their arms--who insisted on not just holding hands, but occasionally walking with his arm around her shoulder...you know, the kind of people who never want to be apart, even if it's 100 degrees out.

"You've found that special someone, and you never want to be apart..." I know that SNL's "Love Toilet" was a fake product. Really. But I really have a feeling that this new trend of "Couple-Surfing" is an outgrowth of that kind of disgustingly-crazy-in-love couple, for whom PDA still means "public displays of affection."

While I'm all for couples communicating--whatever method they decide to use--I feel like this trend introduces a third party and may not facilitate communication; in some cases, the intervening layer of technology may lead to misunderstandings...

In any case, thank Wired's blog for this list of the interesting things couples said about how they view the internet, including:"An infomaniac is better off with another infomaniac who understands and partakes of their addiction, rather than mixing the tender electrovert with a more organically-centered human," and "There is something poetic in an e-mail correspondence, even if you see the other person every day. The e-mail personalities can be somehow different."

I've long mourned the loss of the love letter tradition--will our emails of LOL and ROTFLs someday serve the same romantic and nostalgic function as the lovingly inscribed, handwritten declarations of feelings immortalized by couples separated by life and war and parental or social impediments? Perhaps this trend of couples communicating with each other online might serve as a romance renaissance of sorts?

One thing's certain...if the article/list reveals any essential truth, it is this statement:

"I think my lover would prefer it if I wasn't checking blogs at 2 in the morning in my underwear."

Yeah, we're pretty sure you're right about that.

Shocking Quiz Development

Taking the "Which Sex and the City vixen are YOU most like" quiz over a year after the series is over... and the results are...shockingly...

You Are Most Like Miranda!

While you've had your fair share of romance, men don't come first Guys are a distant third to your friends and career. And this independence *is* attractive to some men, in measured doses. Remember that if you imagine the best outcome, it might just happen. Romantic prediction: Someone from your past is waiting to reconnect... But you'll have to think of him differently, if you want things to work.

Which Sex and the City Vixen Are You?

Coping with the Question

(Here's my latest singles column...I wrote this column before finding out about last week's Upper West Side tragedy, so any thematic similarity between Hamlet's ponderings and those of someone who's clinically depressed are strictly coincidental, and not intended as a commentary on the tragedy; still, I felt I had to address it in some way (and that's what paragraphs 4 & 5 are about. I hope that the community comforts Sarah's family and provides support for them and for all singles and marrieds in the future. EDK)

Coping with the Question by Esther D. Kustanowitz (First Person Singular, NY Jewish Week, August 4, 2006)

“To be, or not to be, that is the question,” Hamlet pondered, torturing himself with an existential query. As singles, we too grapple with an essential question: “Why are you still single?”

Pose the question, even theoretically, and hordes will respond: you’re too picky, fat, short, ugly or boring; you’re not putting yourself out there; you have issues; you’re spiritually or morally bankrupt; you fear intimacy and commitment; you’re waiting for impossible perfection; or you’re so “whiny,” you should “just freakin’ wed anyone already.” (That last one? Courtesy of an anonymous blogger, complaining about my June column.)

While self-examination is already a single person’s occupational hazard, asking such a question repeatedly takes an emotional toll. When we’re alone, the question echoes, engendering a burgeoning paranoia that the purgatory may well be eternal, and because of some unrevealed and essentially unforgivable hubris. Men blame women, women blame men, everyone blames their parents and their community, and themselves.

I had already completed this column when I got the news that a 25-year-old Upper West Sider, known by most as a happy young woman, had ended her life. Over the last week or so, there has been much discussion of who or what to blame for her death: named suspects include the community pressure to marry, a recent breakup, and clinical depression.

And although the community is not necessarily — as others have intimated — responsible for clinical depression, it may well have been one of many factors creating stress and hopelessness in the young woman’s life. I can only hope that the community will respond appropriately — helping her family to mourn and find comfort, and creating programs to better ensure that people of all ages feel supported and valued, socially, religiously and emotionally.

But the question “Why are you still single?” or alternately, “Why aren’t you married yet?” is yet another form of community pressure and expressed expectations. When a single responds with “I guess I just haven’t found the right person yet,” the yenta-in-residence leans in, sometimes touching your arm, shoulder or leg to indicate just how sympathetic they are, and “consoles” you: “Don’t worry, we’ll find you someone. God willing, it should be soon too by you. Maybe you should try meeting some new people?” Oh. Like we hadn’t thought of that before.

When it comes to the question, everyone — especially those who aren’t single — thinks he or she has the answer. Those Rules ladies thought they knew (“never accept a Saturday night date if he calls Thursday”). Those people who told us that our potentials were “just not that into us” thought they knew, too. Shmuley Boteach thinks he knows; in a Beliefnet.com article from June, Boteach told one mother that the reason her 29-year-old daughter was (oh, the horror!) still single was because she had friends. Ask her to sever ties with her friends for a few weeks, Boteach advised — after experiencing true loneliness, she’d be ready to accept a partner into her life.

Evan Marc Katz, E-Cyrano.com’s “online dating guru,” who I interviewed in one of my first columns, employs an irreverent, humorous approach to the infernal, eternal question in his new book, “Why You’re Still Single: What Your Friends Would Tell You If You Promised Not to Get Mad.” Katz and his co-author, Linda Holmes, present perspectives rather than answers, and the resultant honesty is refreshing. Against a backdrop of pop culture and humor, the duo delves into the depths of dating do’s and don’t’s, acting as the friends you really need — the funny ones who aren’t afraid to hurt your feelings if it will mean helping you out.

Struggling with one major question or many smaller ones, we understand that friends cannot take the place of our bashert. But neither should the pursuit of a significant other take the place of our already-significant friendships, the ones that provide love and support in a dating environment that — as we suffer the slings and arrows of our outrageous fortunes — can often feel like a friendless void.

Shakespeare’s Hamlet is defined by his solitude; the Melancholy Dane cannot trust the people who surround him, not even his family. Most of us are luckier than Hamlet. Perhaps if he’d kept company with friends other than Ophelia, or if he’d experienced the proper support from his community, his existential dilemmas might have seemed a little less weighty.

Esther D. Kustanowitz took too many Shakespeare classes in college. You can reach her at jdatersanonymous@gmail.com.

So Much Sadness

In addition to my ongoing concern about the situation in Israel, a situation that looks like it may further involve some of my friends and relatives, I've been struck by the number of sad stories in the press, many of them about single people struggling in their lives. The other day, I saw this story (hat tip to Canonist). And before I knew it, I got a phone call, talked to a reporter, and voila...a friend got a call from another friend who told him I was "on the cover of the Sun." My friend didn't even grab a copy--and certainly didn't read the story--before calling me to congratulate me on my fame and imminent fortune. Having not read the article, or even having been aware of what the context was, he seemed confused when my response was not "Yippee," but "oh." My heart fell. To be sure, a writer wants to be acknowledged for her work. But to be clear, there is no fame and fortune to be gained from such a story...only a prevailing sense of sadness and the tragedy of the circumstances. May Sarah's family know comfort after this senseless tragedy.

"Do the Right Thing...It's Just Business"

As a freelancer, I do a lot of business with different clients. Usually we contract for a certain rate (only in rare cases does that actually involve a real contract), I do the work and they (eventually) pay. Ideal would be immediate payment on delivery of the product, which is submitted by a certain deadline adhered to by both parties. But realistically, there's often a delay on the return. And sometimes, an initial client meeting clarifies that there's no chemistry between us and we go our separate ways. That's business. With that as preamble, allow me to introduce the following situation (already well-covered in the blogosphere during my Middle East assignment, most notably here, in a post cited by the ever topical Steve Silver). A man and a woman meet on JDate (or any other online site). They trade an email or two, talk once or twice and decide to go out. They go to an expensive dinner (his choice); when the bill comes she offers to pay half, and he tells her he'll take care of it. They both go to their respective homes; when he calls her a few days later, she doesn't call him back. And that's where it all goes to hell. He gets it in his head that she owes him her half of the dinner bill and that he aims to collect it. He sends her emails and leaves her a series of voice mail messages to that effect, first appealing to her to "do the right thing"--since dating is equal to business in his world, her agreeing to accept his offer of dinner payment was her unspoken acceptance that there would be a future date--and ultimately threatening legal action against her at her place of business. The guy has a strong confident voice, and conveys that he's used to doing business. Even while threatening, he seems socially able, if annoying--as if he's reporting on traffic conditions or conveying information about an apartment she might be interested in, telling her that "the ball's totally in her court" and that she should "do the right thing." Soon the voice mails and emails are all over the internet, including his name and hers, and being discussed all over the blogosphere. But it's fifty bucks. Let me repeat that. Fifty bucks. While fifty bucks is nothing that's ever been spent on me for a first date, and perhaps it shouldn't be, it's still not a major amount of money for anyone with an actual job. For him, I doubt it's about the money. It's a control issue; it's a rejection issue; and it's the principle of the thing--he wanted to go out with her, and she didn't, therefore he feels that she owes him. But that doesn't mean she owes him money, whether it's fifty or two hundred and fifty bucks. But this situation raises questions about what's right from a point of etiquette, from a point of technical legality, and from a point of menschlikhkeit (behaving like a mensch). There's no way to know if "let's split it" means "let's split it," or "let's never do this again." I understand the pain of not being called back. And, although not proudly, I will admit to not having called guys back even if I said I would; when a guy asks if he can call again, it's harder to say "I don't think so" than it is to say "sure." Is agreeing to go on a date a business transaction? If so, is there any standard contract, terms to which both parties have implicitly agreed even though no one signed anything? How does one dissolve a partnership that was never started? And what are our obligations to the men and women we date?

Last Nights

Last nights have always been difficult. One tends to get caught up in the details of departure, and within those details are layers of doubt and lingering regret--over the undone or underdone, over the potential for intrinsic change, and for the vanishing moments of the now in the stark awareness that the present becomes past in the instant it happens. Being here has been everything and nothing I'd anticipated. The anxieties were mostly unfounded, and the experience overwhelmingly positive. Friendships were forged and realizations discovered. To an extent, I feel younger--as if some sort of vital essence were recaptured and, to my great surprise, reinvigorates me. I'm infused. And now, because it's a last night of this, a genus of freedom that I've lived through the last few weeks, I fear its imminent pastness, the moment at which this becomes that thing that once was; and puzzle at the fact that the life I left behind is again my future. More characters will be typed, but only after departure.

Sign Me Up, Scotty...

Already find yourself dating Klingons or Vulcans or singles who seem like they're from space, the final frontier? Skip the formalities and sign up for TrekPassions, the online dating site for science fiction fans. And yes, they've already added a "Browncoat" Group. If you don't know what that is, this probably isn't the site for you. According to the report in the CBS news site:

Trek Passions received a boost back in March, when, on his late-night talk show, Conan O'Brien quipped: "The fans say the dating website is going great and any month now they hope a girl will join." It's not quite as bad as that. Although Passions Network President Michael Carter says they don't track such things, an informal count suggests more than a quarter of the 2,550 users are women. [...] In many ways the site attracts about what you'd expect. One person interviewed for this story left the endearingly rambling voice mail of a man not entirely comfortable with women. And some profiles seem to be written in another language: "A TOS-TNG-DS9 Fan Looking For par'Machi."

As someone who just told a story on Shabbat afternoon about how Return of the Jedi helped me get an SAT question right, I'm so glad I didn't understand that.

Request from a Reader

I just got this email from a reader, and he asked some questions that I thought would best be served by JDA's other readers, so feel free to respond in the comments section and I'll then forward the URL link of the post-plus-comments to him...thanks, and wishing you all a wonderful weekend!

I have only recently come into contact with your column and blog(s) and was merely looking for some kind of direction to take being that my Jdate experiences were too hard to handle, in my opinion. I placed my cancellation with Jdate today, after 7 months of lead-ons and 'just be friends' speeches. I thought that a faith-based/ethnic-based/spiritual-based dating web site would produce at least some meaningful contacts...but sadly, every person that I encountered blamed everything on "chemistry" and used it as an excuse to have no further contact. I certainly understand why people do not want to be brutally honest about certain things....but it really does hurt all the same when rejection occurs. I do not know if you have any contacts with people who have experienced this type of frustration....but if you know of some place, online forum, or venue that similar people use to speak about these issues, could you please help me?

Miles Away, In More Ways Than One

I write this from Jerusalem, after having been away for almost three weeks, and with two more to go. I can't guarantee that I'm making any sense in this post, or that it's concretely related to dating. But it is about relationships, altered consciousness, and the intensely frightening and intensely sought state of change. Miles away--rather, thousands of miles away--you hope for some sort of perspective in absentia, for clarity to emerge as you unimmerse yourself from the dailyness of you and revisit the decisions and emotions that you've experienced in the past. You hope for it. Sometimes, especially in Holy Cities, you pray for it. And eventually and to an extent, it comes, at odd moments when you're unprepared for it, or can't experience it viscerally, or can't write it down. But clarity brings responsibility. Running away isn't an option, and words spill forth on their own, leaving you behind. The things you are and the things you do must be the same. But if sentences seem disjointed as they emerge, is the march really toward clarity or toward something else? The wonderings are as wanderings, meandering in and out of meaning until clarity has engendered a new confusion. More topical posts to come...

Leavin' on a Jet Plane...

...don't know when I'll be back again. The date is rapidly approaching. I report to Newark airport Sunday morning, for my flight to Israel with birthright israel...while there I will be observing international trends in Jewish dating. In other words, "watching kids hook up with each other on the trip." Well, we do have a bunch of siblings with us, so statistically that probably reduces the number of people who are potential hookups on our bus. But still, I have some hope that some young Jews on our bus will find love as they discover Israel. That would be totally Jewlicious. In addition to having the chance to see Israel again through the eyes of newcomers, I'm hoping that this trip really helps me reconnect with college age kids--find out what their concerns are, explore their relationship with Jewish life and their nascent connections to Israel. If I can, I'll arrange for some guest bloggers. But if not, stay tuned, and I'll try to post again soon. Next post from Jerusalem!

Mars & Venus Go To Shul: Jewish Dating Blogcarnival's Potentially Last Date

Blogcarnival! Probably the last one for a while, too, since people have stopped submitting posts and I simply don't have the time. Plus, I'm not convinced that anyone's been really reading this series, so I'll take June and July to reconsider, potentially reviving the Carnival in August, but we'll see. My favorite piece of news from recent weeks--which means, for those of you not following my sarcasm, my LEAST favorite piece of news--is that the Jewish singles "crisis" has been upgraded to "Tropical Storm David." Just kidding. But if an ad in a recent issue of the Jewish Week is to be believed, the crisis has indeed escalated, to the point that they're calling it a..."catastrophe." So in case you thought tsunamis or hurricanes or war or terrorism were catastrophes? I quote Inigo Montoya: "You keep on using that word...perhaps it doesn't mean what you think it means." But more on this later. The new ABC show "How to Get the Guy," is set in San Francisco and features Teresa Strasser, former host of "While You Were Out," as well as the former FOX 5 morning show correspondent who interviewed me about Rosh Hashanah in 2004. JTA reports on the JDate trip to Israel, which was advertising as a trip that was for ages 20s to 70s. (Why didn't I go?) and also informs of a Ukrainian Jewish singles site to help combat intermarriage in that region.

Attention Frumster Shoppers documents the end of his long-distance relationship, with humor and then with a more introspective post. AFS also shows his sense of humor with his utilization of Frumster screen names as lines of poetry. Sarah compares herself to Angelina Jolie. Sort of. And Writersbloc talks of alone time and wanting a certain kind of clutter in her space.

I'd love to say that every singles piece I read teaches me something. I wish I could summon the love for this piece from the Jewish Journal about online dating and how great it is. I'm thrilled that it took the writer, a veteran of years of long-term relationships, a matter of two short years to find someone special via the internet. But I can't. You read it, and maybe you'll be able to...

Cruises (and other things) cost more when you're single. Via the Jewish Standard comes this oddly disjointed piece that seems to make three points (life's cheaper when you're coupled; there should be some sort of rule for who pays when couples go out with singles; and in fact an entire book of etiquette is needed to help people cope with singles-related situations) or none at all. Full disclosure, I know the writer--she's a longtime family friend and talented writer/editor who's been very supportive of me. Which is one of the reasons that this piece is puzzling to me. If she's reading this, and wants me to comment in a follow-up piece, I'd be happy to.

Shmuley Boteach irks me again, this time with his response to a mother who's concerned about her 29 year old not finding her bashert. His advice takes several parts: 1) the mother should definitely get involved in helping her daughter meet men, 2) that the daughter needs to cut herself off from her friends and get really lonely. And I quote:

"When I counsel singles like your daughter, I tell them first to cut themselves off from their friends for three weeks. After three weeks, they'll really yearn and crave company. Then, they'll see a man as someone special instead of someone in whom they can find flaws. Second, I urge young people to observe the two-date rule: go on a second date no matter how bad the first date was. Don't dismiss people immediately, but instead learn to simply enjoy human company. It is usually those second dates that lead to real possibilities."

Second-date rules are probably a good idea generally speaking. But if a woman, say, in her mid-thirties, cuts herself off from her friends for three weeks, the result is less likely to be healthy dating and more likely to be depression and suicidal tendencies. When you're depressed, you make no one a good date or a companion. Or at least that's what my friends tell me. Here's wishing you all love, happiness and satisfaction. Have a great summer.

"A Dating Departure"--First Person Singular (JW)

This week's column, "A Dating Departure," shares some of my reflections from January's JSinglesCruise to the Caribbean:

[...] It had begun the night before departure, like the night before my first day of camp or college. Part of it was the packing process. The more I put into my suitcase, the more it seemed to take out of me. I wondered if clothes would hinder me socially or matter at all. Still, beyond the grip of my own anxiety, I understood that future always lies just beyond the vanishing point of your own vision. On the horizon, there was something — of an unknown quality and duration, but still, something — to be found.

For more, click the above link.

Gotta Get a Gimmick

They say there's no such thing as a free lunch. But Babe Scott wants her due, from you, and you, and you, and you, and you. (That's five of you. Times twenty.)

The Web site Babe has set up, takemeoutforlunch.com, demands exactly that: She wants 100 guys to take her to 100 fancy restaurants and she'll blog about them afterward, maybe squeeze them into a book. She may even find Mr. Right.

She may find Mr. Right. But she'll milk a lot of guys for free lunch before she admits it. Because that's her gimmnick. Look, there's enough men in the world. She can have a hundred of them. I don't need a gimmick. Or maybe I do, but don't want one. At any rate, I bet she gets a TV show before I do. Which might be a good thing.

"Living the List"

Living the List NY Jewish Week, May 19, 2006 I only deserve the best,” a friend recently told me. “I’m not just taking the first guy who really likes me because I’m sick and tired of waiting. People who do that are making the biggest mistakes,” she said, noting three such couples in her life, who “got married, not sure that the love was there,” and are now divorcing. “If I have to wait longer, I will.” For those concerned with Jewish demography, women (and men) like my friend are dooming the Jewish people to slow, steady destruction. They’re marrying later, decreasing the number of children each couple is likely to have. And by the time we reach a certain age, even if wanting children is in the plan, we’ve been so single, for so long, that doing our national duty is less important than finding a soul mate, someone who has most of the qualities on their lists. Everyone has his or her deal breakers. But many have cited the mere literal or figurative existence of such lists as illustrations of the “pickiness” and “inflexibility” of singles. If reasonable, the list can function as an independent auditor, which theoretically helps singles to make smarter choices. If adhered to inflexibly, the list can be a single person’s undoing. At the recent “Michael Steinhardt Presents...” series at Manhattan Jewish Experience — named for the philanthropist/event emcee — dating coach Robin Gorman Newman suggested that singles “actually write down” their lists and, after looking inward to determine what they themselves have to offer, to assess whether they were really giving people a chance and “throw half of it out the window.” “Making the effort isn’t enough; the right attitude has to be there first,” the “How to Marry a Mensch” author told the audience of singles ranging in age from 20s to mid-40s. “Everyone wants to be ‘on Cloud 9,’ but Cloud 8 isn’t anything to sneeze at.” Co-panelist and Manhattan Jewish Experience Rabbi Mark Wildes noted that the list “sometimes grows as time goes on,” and suggested reducing the list to one item: “I believe we are incomplete without a partner, someone who understands you. Reduce the list to that one person who understands you.” But therein lies the problem, especially in high-density areas like New York City, Chicago and Los Angeles, where every night presents a crop of fresh new faces to assess for compatibility: Sometimes choice itself is the problem. Confronted with a veritable buffet of tasty options, even if they find an 80 percent match — by all accounts, a pretty good fit — singles experience the nagging feeling that there still might be someone out there who’s better. Still, singles complain that there’s “no one out there.” What they mean is that they had a certain set of expectations when it comes to dating, and that when those expectations were not met, they were disappointed. The fact that there may be hundreds or thousands of other compatible singles out there might as well not be true, because it feels hopelessly false. While most of the singles in the room at MJE or at Makor or the JCC or any other Jewish meeting place on any given night are looking for love — or answers — with the hope of a committed Jewish relationship, few of us are looking for “baby daddies.” Yes, even without reminders from doctors or demographers, we’re all aware of the biological challenges that face us as we (especially women) age. But we want partners. And we’ve waited this long — we’re willing to delay the procreative process until our lists have more checks than exes on them. My friend deserves happiness, to love and be loved in equal measure. She says she’s not willing to settle. But I like to think that she — and singles like her — are not married to their lists. They’re still open-minded enough to give the decent ones a chance; they’re willing to look at the big picture rather than judging on a sacrosanct list of must-haves and must-not-haves. They’re the ones who refused to date Republicans, until they met one they liked, who refused to date men their height or women they claimed were “not their type,” until they did and found they were. Although they often help us, our lists are not divine, nor even divinely inspired. They’re human, and superficial, and inherently flawed. Just like the singles who made them.

Oops, I Did It Again

I will admit to some bad behavior. Not inherently evil, or illegal in any way. I mean, this is still me. I still color within the lines. I don't shoplift, or cheat at Scrabble or anything. I live within a deplorably boring framework of morality. But damned if I don't still feel it when things don't turn out the way I'd hoped. Even if the hope itself was a hope against hope, it was still small, sheltered, naive...desperate to grow and become something better. Oops, I did it again. Not a girl, not yet a woman. Just a healthy plate of the familiar-turned-contemptible. No choices. All the options I thought I had are mist. Smoke. The vaguest drizzle of a hint of more still slickens my skin. I feel it there. But it's too late. I've gone into my head again. Patterns, man. They're a bitch. And sometimes, as a result, so am I.

Shomer Negiah Blog Profiled in Jewish Week Column

...but not in my column. This time, the Jewish Week profiles NJG, giving a rundown of her site. When was NJG's last post? February. And wait, who's their singles columnist, anyway? I forget... For those of you who've been waiting for more about NJG, how she's doing and what's going on in her life since her last post, well, don't look here. If you've been reading her all along, you'll find nothing new here. And this is why print media is dying a slow death; because things hit the blogosphere first, run their course, and then are profiled in the print editions, finally reaching those who are "internet-resistant." Don't get me wrong, there are those people who will always want to hold the newspaper in their hands, or toss it to the bathroom floor when they're done, and listen to it make a satisfying "thwap" sound that says "I so read that paper." But in terms of showing the world something new? It's all about electronic media, kids. The new revolution--journalistic or sexual--will be blogivised. I know. I'm preaching to the choir.

A Question from a JDA Reader: About Matchmaking

A reader writes:

On the Saw You at Sinai site many "shadchans" say they don't charge a fee, but what if they make a match, what is considered a nice "fee/ gift" for making the match?

Is a shadchan "gift" for a shadchan from Brooklyn cheaper than one from Manhattan or out of town? On the Saw You site they have an article from a Rabbi saying it is important to give a gift to a shadchan that makes a match, but doesn't give any guidance on what is considered one. I asked Saw You at Sinai what are the gifts aka "prices", they told me to ask a Rabbi. Can you help?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

"Interrogating the Dating Guru" (JW-First Person Singular)

If the title of my latest column in the Jewish Week seems a little familiar to regular readers of this column, it's because it originated as a post here...except here, we met a "dating hermit." Well, my editor wasn't fond of "hermit," so it became a "guru." But the concept is the same, and some of your opinions are represented in this piece, so thanks for the help you didn't know you were giving me. Keep visiting and commenting...your feedback helps JDaters Anonymous maintain its place as a dynamic community. Interrogating the Dating Guru by Esther D. Kustanowitz May 5, 2006 When people find out that I write about the single life, they often ask me dating questions. I try to answer on a case-by-case basis, always with the caveat that they understand I don’t have all the answers. Recently, someone asked me, “Why aren’t people meeting each other?” I thought about this. Was it true? I mean, it felt true. But what of the myriad parties, blind dates and Jewish events? Surely people were meeting, weren’t they? “The opportunity to meet new people is always there, every moment you are out in public,” says Aryeh Goldsmith, founder of free Jewish dating site TwentyFourSix.com. “But people aren’t even trying anymore; you can’t meet people if you don’t even talk to them.” He explains that new people are immediately assessed for relationship potential and written off. “They aren’t given the option of becoming your friend because you don’t want more friends — you’re looking for a significant other. This is basically the act of becoming less and less social.” In effect, the questions may actually be, “Why can’t I meet anyone special?” or “Where do I go to meet someone?” They could be “Will I ever meet anyone?” or “What the hell is he/she thinking?” or “Why am I always confined to the Friend Zone?” And I don’t have any of the answers — if I did, I’d likely skip this Jewish Week gig and go straight to Oprah. On my JDatersAnonymous blog, I asked readers to imagine that they’d climbed to the top of a remote mountain to seek an audience with the Dating Guru — a person who held all the answers to all questions regarding the courtship process. What questions would they ask? One man in his 30s asked how he could “overcome the issues I know I have, and how will I know if I’ve found the right one?” One reader asked if he would be “happier single than waiting around for ‘good ones’ to show up.” Others wanted to know if they’d made a mistake by breaking up with someone who might have been “the one.” One male reader wondered why women don’t give shorter guys a chance; and one female reader asked why men have such difficulty opening up emotionally. One woman just shy of 30 wondered, “If I am as wonderful, beautiful, interesting, funny, intelligent and loving as everyone says I am (and if I know it’s true too) then why don’t I have the relationship I deserve?” A 20-something woman wants to know if she’s wasting her time. “Have I missed my chance or is my bashert still out there? If he’s still out there, I’ll keep trying. But if I know for sure that he’s not, I might take up some new addictions.” The good news is that, on paper, people are meeting. As the New York Times Sunday Styles section or Times Square billboards will tell you, everyone knows someone who met on JDate. Or Match.com. Or at a party. Or through a blind date. But there’s no guarantee that any of those venues will be right for you, and that’s disappointing. Sure, you try to reframe it. You’re waiting for your bashert, the timing hasn’t been right; you declare a moratorium because you’re too busy for relationships, anyway. You try to take the power back from the ether, hoping it will make you feel better. But with every denial, uttered with the best of intentions — emotional self-preservation — you may be taking a step backwards, retreating from the relationship that you want. By convincing yourself that love will find you when you’re not looking for it (another untrue cliché) you stop looking for love. And that may seem like a positive move, but it’s not very goal- or action-oriented. “We all need to identify the things that trap us and do our best to take responsibility,” says dating consultant Evan Marc Katz. “The right person is out there, somewhere, but tends not to magically appear in your living room with a red ribbon on his head. If he does, you should probably call the police.” Perhaps because there’s such a fine line between doing all the right things and not becoming obsessed with something that’s largely out of our control, these festering questions can drive us right up to the edge of that hazy border between love and insanity. But most of us are just asking “Why is this taking so long?” And that, unfortunately, is a question that only the Dating Guru can answer. Too bad gurus, like a good match, are so hard to find. Esther D. Kustanowitz does not aspire to fill the shoes of any active or retiring Dating Gurus. Still, you can reach her at jdatersanonymous@gmail.com.

Men and Women?

I happened upon this quote from Katharine Hepburn: "Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then." I feel like that sometimes. I understand women better than I do men, although a male friend of mine claims that understanding men is easy: they always and only say what they mean, and there are no secret agendas or hidden meanings. (Up for debate in my humble opinion, especially since said friend admitted that he often "tricks" women into "stealth dating" him by proclaiming interest in a professional collaboration, and then transitioning that into a romantic relationship.) But as much as I enjoy the company of women, I also enjoy being a woman in the company of men. There's something energizing about being surrounded by men, especially those who are just drunk enough to be uncensored but not dangerous--it's like an all-access pass into an entirely new way of thinking and speaking, like a vacation from the mundane. Of course, always being in the company of men and being able to hold one's own--whether the discussion is politics, philosophy, dating or pop culture--can sometimes transform a woman into just one of the guys, privy to locker room talk and lowering blinds that prevent her from being seen as a woman. She becomes an audience, or a brain, or a sharp wit--good because she ceases to be the enemy and may even achieve the status of a conversational equal. But maybe there are things that men say to men that they shouldn't say to women. What do you think? (More substantive posts to come next week, hopefully...)

"Free to Be" -- First Person Singular (JW)

This time I'm reprinting the whole column here, for your convenience...and I have to say that given the tax I had to pay on this year's purported income, the column turned out to be remarkably prescient. May your days be filled with the sweetness of freedom.--EDK Free to Be... by Esther D. Kustanowitz Growing up, I often listened to a work of feminism undercover as children’s album and book — “Free to Be You and Me.” From “Free to Be,” I learned that I could be anything, that parents were people and that “every boy in this land learns to be his own man, and in this land every girl grows to be her own woman.” I learned that partners should not be your superiors, but equals, running neck-and-neck with you until you both cross the finish line together. I learned that those who expect to be treated like royalty because of their looks and who demand “ladies first” will probably be eaten by a pack of hungry tigers. (Metaphorical tigers, I’m sure.) Today, with the girl in me having grown to be her own woman, living single and independent, even my profession has liberation in its name: I am a freelance writer. Friends are envious. I am my own boss, I choose my projects and my hours, and I’m flexible — able to work at a coffee shop or a library. When summer arrives early, I can take an hour to enjoy the sunshine or sit in the park, while my peers are chained to their desks. But with no central employer, I’m also free to worry, buy my own health insurance, and to wonder if my doctors will suddenly decide — as they recently did —that they’re no longer accepting my coverage. I wonder if I can stretch this month’s earnings to cover next month’s expenses. I’ve got to stay on top of my invoices, or my clients will feel free to not pay me. And if I can’t make freelancing work, I’m free to either get a full-time job or, although I haven’t asked them, to move back in with my parents. So freelancing isn’t really free. With no such thing as a free lunch, there are always obligations, strings attached, although they might not be visible at the time. Pessimists say that’s what dating’s all about — determining if the inevitable strings attached to supposedly free meals are strings you can live with. I don’t love that definition, but it makes me realize that for all of my professional independence, financially, I’m not all that free. I have often wished that I were part of a creative commune, where we would all work to provide each other with sustenance and shelter, with enough to enable us to focus on our creative work without worrying about financial security. We could judge each other by the content of our characters rather than have our perceptions tinted through money-colored glasses. On this creative kibbutz, a basic stability would free our minds. We wouldn’t need excess, only comfort, to create. And by being more in touch with our inner muses, we’d be truer versions of ourselves, more open to relationships, and, to paraphrase the Bard, we would not admit impediments to the marriage of true minds. For artists and other miscellaneous creatives, the search for comfort is constant. They hope that a deep enough excavation will uncover love, happiness or some other great truth. But once a dream is achieved or a truth is attained, everything shifts, compelling the creation of a new dream, a higher goal, a deeper truth. Writing itself — as profession, leisure activity, spiritual exercise, intellectual inquiry or demonic exorcism — is not a right; it’s a luxury, living in the domain of the independent and the land of the free. Every spring, Jews revisit freedom as a concept. And we don’t think solely of our literally enslaved ancestors: we think of the restrictions that we have placed on ourselves, metaphorical enslavements of the heart, will and mind. We understand that our inability to move forward in relationships or our fear of change isn’t slavery of the make-bricks-from-mud-and-straw variety. Actual slavery still exists throughout the world — from poverty in New York to Indian children born into brothels, from Russian prostitutes in Israel to poverty, violence and atrocities in Darfur. And here I am, pondering my metaphorical freedom and my own professional “enslavement” to Manhattan rents and sub-par insurance plans and complaining that a month of JDate is too expensive. My freedoms aren’t rights. They’re luxuries. And all of the smaller enslavements of daily existence for a single youngish American Jewish freelancer — even JDate — are insignificant when you consider the major benefit to living in a free society: I have the luxury to keep on dreaming.

Best Way to Advertise Your Upcoming Record Release? JDate

I just got a press release about Chad Love (not Chad Lowe), a hip-hop artist who is taking advantage of the "enormous web portal" at JDate to promote his upcoming album. (Visit his site for samples, a theme that borrows heavily from the Six Million Dollar Man and the Terminator--and a bit from The Lion King--and a creepy graphic of the artist as his sunglasses seem to blink at you in an indication that he may be becoming Jeff Goldblum in The Fly.) His PR people are calling him a "Crossover where all ethic [sic] backgrounds can take center stage in creating new visions using past inspiration in the hip-hop world." That's right...JDate is the new MySpace for somewhat Jewish artists. Um, isn't this illegal? I went to the Terms of Service to find out. While they do impose a 30-message a day limit to protect members against people who might use the site for spam solicitations, the only other limit on what's in the communications is "You will not engage in advertising to, or solicitation of, other members to buy or sell any products or services through the Service." Technically speaking, Chad Love's people are promoting him, which is one technical step removed from contract violations. Maybe. I'm still not convinced. In any rate, the move makes sense at least in terms of language. Firstly, his name is "Love," so I get the theoretical connection to JDate as a place that one might (theoretically) find love. Secondly, in record terminology, he's gonna drop the record like it's hot, and people on JDate get dropped all the time like hot potatoes. So poetically, I'm on board with it. And after seeing the dude and hearing his tunes, you know the dude's Jewish--he sounds like Derek Zoolander. The site describes him as an Italian Jue, a "Pizza Bagel", and someone who grew up in "an upper-class suburb of New York City." But that don't mean he ain't keepin' it realz, yo. Does he roll on Shabbos? Probably, because it's hard out there for a pimp.

"Free to Be" -- First Person Singular (JW)

This time I'm reprinting the whole column here, for your convenience...and I have to say that given the tax I had to pay on this year's purported income, the column turned out to be remarkably prescient. May your days be filled with the sweetness of freedom.--EDK Free to Be... by Esther D. Kustanowitz Growing up, I often listened to a work of feminism undercover as children’s album and book — “Free to Be You and Me.” From “Free to Be,” I learned that I could be anything, that parents were people and that “every boy in this land learns to be his own man, and in this land every girl grows to be her own woman.” I learned that partners should not be your superiors, but equals, running neck-and-neck with you until you both cross the finish line together. I learned that those who expect to be treated like royalty because of their looks and who demand “ladies first” will probably be eaten by a pack of hungry tigers. (Metaphorical tigers, I’m sure.) Today, with the girl in me having grown to be her own woman, living single and independent, even my profession has liberation in its name: I am a freelance writer. Friends are envious. I am my own boss, I choose my projects and my hours, and I’m flexible — able to work at a coffee shop or a library. When summer arrives early, I can take an hour to enjoy the sunshine or sit in the park, while my peers are chained to their desks. But with no central employer, I’m also free to worry, buy my own health insurance, and to wonder if my doctors will suddenly decide — as they recently did —that they’re no longer accepting my coverage. I wonder if I can stretch this month’s earnings to cover next month’s expenses. I’ve got to stay on top of my invoices, or my clients will feel free to not pay me. And if I can’t make freelancing work, I’m free to either get a full-time job or, although I haven’t asked them, to move back in with my parents. So freelancing isn’t really free. With no such thing as a free lunch, there are always obligations, strings attached, although they might not be visible at the time. Pessimists say that’s what dating’s all about — determining if the inevitable strings attached to supposedly free meals are strings you can live with. I don’t love that definition, but it makes me realize that for all of my professional independence, financially, I’m not all that free. I have often wished that I were part of a creative commune, where we would all work to provide each other with sustenance and shelter, with enough to enable us to focus on our creative work without worrying about financial security. We could judge each other by the content of our characters rather than have our perceptions tinted through money-colored glasses. On this creative kibbutz, a basic stability would free our minds. We wouldn’t need excess, only comfort, to create. And by being more in touch with our inner muses, we’d be truer versions of ourselves, more open to relationships, and, to paraphrase the Bard, we would not admit impediments to the marriage of true minds. For artists and other miscellaneous creatives, the search for comfort is constant. They hope that a deep enough excavation will uncover love, happiness or some other great truth. But once a dream is achieved or a truth is attained, everything shifts, compelling the creation of a new dream, a higher goal, a deeper truth. Writing itself — as profession, leisure activity, spiritual exercise, intellectual inquiry or demonic exorcism — is not a right; it’s a luxury, living in the domain of the independent and the land of the free. Every spring, Jews revisit freedom as a concept. And we don’t think solely of our literally enslaved ancestors: we think of the restrictions that we have placed on ourselves, metaphorical enslavements of the heart, will and mind. We understand that our inability to move forward in relationships or our fear of change isn’t slavery of the make-bricks-from-mud-and-straw variety. Actual slavery still exists throughout the world — from poverty in New York to Indian children born into brothels, from Russian prostitutes in Israel to poverty, violence and atrocities in Darfur. And here I am, pondering my metaphorical freedom and my own professional “enslavement” to Manhattan rents and sub-par insurance plans and complaining that a month of JDate is too expensive. My freedoms aren’t rights. They’re luxuries. And all of the smaller enslavements of daily existence for a single youngish American Jewish freelancer — even JDate — are insignificant when you consider the major benefit to living in a free society: I have the luxury to keep on dreaming.

Mars & Venus Go to Shul: Third Date (BlogCarnival of Jewish Dating)

Sorry about the delay in this Carnival...looks like once a month is the best I can hope for with this kind of crazy schedule... and now, with Passover, I probably won't get back to writing here for a week. So enjoy the links, explore on your own and write in with your recommendations for the May edition of Mars & Venus Go to Shul... Mars & Venus First Date Chick, who became blogfamous for chronicling each of her first dates with a new man, has started seeing someone, and is wondering what that might mean for her blog audience. She might want to check in with Honorary Jew (although I'm not sure that's a compliment) Ken Wheaton at the Non-Dating Life with his post about "what to do with your dating blog when you're in a relationship." First-timers club....Ladies and gentlemen, the battle of trying to understand another "planet" doesn't end once you're married...I give you the Muqata on the subject of Passover cleaning. First-time Carnivaler Channahboo, at Little Miss Graham, is a triple submission threat as she presents her views on PDA, adventures with Purim costuming, "Got Milk?"and anthropologically ponders the differences between the Jerusalem single woman who is "Desperately Seeking in Katamon" and the "Katamonster":

The Katamonster deserves no pity as she gives none. She has no pity for the women she tramples over in the scramble to claim her prize; she has no remorse for those she leaves heartbroken in her trail; she bares no thought to the hurtful words she uses to badmouth a competitor.

Whatever happened to sisterhood? Oh yeah, all's fair in love and the search for love. You Don't Look LIke Your Profile (Online Dating Adventures) Our carnival regulars, Hilary and Annabel Lee, are still struggling with the games of dating and relating with guys they meet online. So check them out in general, now and forever. I mean it. P-Life, passionate and high-energy as ever, has thrown himself into a new relationship with a woman from California--they're totally making it work so far, and P-Life took it on himself to sort of semi-retire from his single blogger life, naming me among others as one of the pioneers in the writing about Jewish singles arena. Also calling it quits is JeruGuru. ILikedYourProfile has launched a "funny dating email contest" that could win you a $20 Starbucks card. Hilary gives words to the thoughts of many singles who find themselves homeward bound for Passover. Don't forget to make your submissions for the next edition of this BlogCarnival, coming in May to a blogspot near you... Happy Passover and/or Easter...

The Power of Paying

One of the toughest questions in dating is also one of the shortest, and seemingly, one of the simplest. But the reality is that in today's world, where we pay lip service to equality, the question of who pays for dates is not as simple as it seems. So, who pays? One of these is the correct answer, so consider each one carefully. 1) The man pays. Every time. No excuses, unless it's his birthday and his woman wants to buy him dinner. Aww, shucks--ain't she sweet? 2) Whoever did the asking does the paying. It's a modern world--if a woman asks a man out, she should assume the responsibility of paying. 3) Whoever makes the most money should foot the bill. 4) Whoever chooses the restaurant should pay. 5) If you'd like to make a gesture that says "I like you and it was my pleasure to sit here with you," no matter what your gender, or whether you were the asker or the askee, you should pick up the check. 6) None of the above and all of the above. We're all screwed. Over at the E-Cyrano blog, Evan posts about this issue of the expectation of payment. (Feel free to weigh in over there as well...) He hits many of the issues, but for me, the issue of who pays establishes a strange kind of power dynamic that I've never been 100 percent comfortable with--in dating and with my other friends too. But in dating, payment feels especially like a contract, like I'm expected to deliver something that I might not yet (or at all) be comfortable delivering. Maybe that's a sign I'm watching too much Law and Order SVU. But because money has a disproportionate value for me--I tend not to spend it because I don't have that much post-rent-and-utilities wiggle room in my budget--it's therefore a big deal when someone (even my parents) treat me to dinner. With friends, I feel obligated to "get them next time," and usually manage to keep that promise even though I'm budgetarily limited...but this is probably my issue and not everyone else's. Is money power? And does the forking over of cash for dinner establish any other kind of contract? What do you all think? Because the more I think about this, the more I think I have the answer. The answer is 6).

And That's Why Men Should Kiss Men and Women Should Kiss Women...

Too many episodes of Queer as Folk and The L-Word for Esther? Perhaps. But that's not the point of this NY Times article about the art (and artifice) of the social kiss, especially in business settings.

The kiss is "happening more and more," agreed Peggy Post, a spokeswoman for the Emily Post Institute founded by the doyenne of etiquette. "We're much more informal in everything from the clothes we wear to how we greet people." Ms. Post advocates the handshake and agrees that it's better "to steer clear of kissing people of the opposite sex, which can be misconstrued in some cases." This is especially true on first meetings. Later, kissing as a greeting depends on the relationship, she and others said. [emphasis mine--edk]

I think the answer is for all of us to become shomer negiah all the time except for when we are in relationships with other people. Think of the clarity: first of all, no awkward business kisses. (Or Shabbos kisses, if any of you remember those boggling busses from that time between the Friday night service and dinner at Camp Ramah or USY Conventions.) Secondly, you'd never have to ask "What is the deal with those two? Are they dating or not?" nor would you ever have to answer "Well, no one knows for sure." Kissing etiquette is hard. So that's why I'm glad my staff of research assistants sends me articles like these, with helpful hints buried on page two of the article, like the fact that Blistex maintains a section on kissing etiquette (and pretty much anything you'd ever want to know about lips) on their site. On a not wholly unrelated note, today I bought two new lipglosses. Smooches, everyone! Or not...

F-Word

Here's the way it happens. There's clicking, audible and palpable. One shoe of expectation has dropped and the resulting thud is reassuring--it massages you like your trainer as you prepare for your moment in the ring, readying you for your graduation, at long last, from this infernal division. The thud is a herald: "this is it!" it trumpets, kneading your shoulders and prepping you for greatness. But you've been here before. You've been this close to the title, and have never worn the belt of achievement. You've seen it up close, touched it with your greedy, deprived little fingers, but it was never yours. So now you wait for the other shoe to drop, the way it always has in the past. And when that thud comes, it's anything but reassuring. You try to see it as a new beginning, as freedom from the slavery of just not knowing. That it's an end should serve as some relief. But you can't help feeling that it's a small death of sorts, the end of something, the curtailing of possibility, the decapitation of hope. You hear it spoken, as you have many times before. It never sounds good. But now, repeated ad nauseum by voices of various timbres over decades, it sounds somehow sinister, as if hissed with a forked tongue, even though the word itself should be a badge of honor. Is there anything more important? Use of the word in proper context is a compliment like no other. When meant, truly heartfelt, it conveys the deepest respect. It's an acknowledgment of greatness, of affection and honor. It designates you as special. It separates you from the herd, brands you with a special marker, binds you to the speaker through public accolades of your importance. And yet, every time you hear it, your disappointment overwhelms you, obliterating the positives. As the syllable rings in your ears, the only thing it sounds like is failure.

Double Standard?

So, you guys remember that post that started because someone wrote me a letter suggesting that women in their 30s consider dating men in their 40s and 50s? Well, we determined that some of those men feel that they "deserve" a woman who's young and pretty, who can wear the designer fashions that they want to see their woman in...and the truth is that for some of these men, 30s is too old...they skew toward late twenties... The other night, at Blog Night, a reader told me that she read somewhere that some ridiculously high number of older woman-younger man relationships fail. But we didn't have any stats about the older man-younger woman dynamic, probably because it's more common and no one cares. But if Demi dates Ashton, or Cameron dates Justin, everyone's like..."ooh...she's old enough to be his mother!" So my question is: is there a double standard in effect, or am I (this is the theoretical "I", of course) "allowed" to date someone ten years younger than I am? And if not, is the double standard biological in origin--that men have a biological drive to procreate, so they seek out those likely to be the most fertile? And what about that possible-myth about women reaching their sexual peak in their thirties, while men peak at 18? Is there any truth to that, and if so, what's the big deal with women dating younger men? And now I step back graciously, as the discussion commences.