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.

"Making Space" (Jewish Week)

Many of today’s college and post-college-age young adults are involved in an online community called MySpace. When you register, you are given a homepage, which you decorate yourself: You design it, decide what biographical information to include in the profile, what kind of music or video will greet page visitors and put up as many pictures of yourself or other people in your life as you want. And although you can invite other people into your network, it’s still not called “OurSpace” — you choose your affiliations, but ultimately the profile belongs solely and completely to one individual: you. In some ways, MySpace inherits a solid literary legacy, with subtle flavors of both Virginia Woolf’s “room of one’s own” and Emily Dickinson’s soul that “selects its own society.” The message of both concepts is that to find yourself — whether it’s your truth or your art — you have to experience solitude. To exist in a place apart from others enables you to define yourself in a relative vacuum instead of in a biased social or familial context. And so, online communities provide young adults with room to be and breathe in an environment of their own creation.

To read the rest of "Making Space," click here.

Small JDate World

For all of those of you who are experiencing some "challenges," let's call them, with the people and process of JDate, I thought you'd enjoy knowing that at least you hadn't had this experience yet...

Today, Jdate, the online Jewish dating service, e-mailed me a potential match. It was my brother. It's a small world, I know. And this is Georgia. But one would hope the idea is to expand the dating pool, not limit it to one household.

The article's worth a read, if only to finally understand what the whole VPL ban is about. Plus, Jdatesgonewrong gets a plug from one of the interviewed daters...

Find Your "Eerily Effective" Soulmate, Plus Ads!

Because the online dating scene is both unsatisfying and resplendent with fun-poking opportunities (not to be confused with "fun poking opportunities"), Google Romance has joined in the fun...

• Upload your profile – tell the world who you are, or, more to the point, who you’d like to think you are, or, even more to the point, who you want others to think you are.
• Search for love in all (or at least a statistically significant majority of) the right places with Soulmate Search, our eerily effective psychographic matchmaking software.
• Endure, via our Contextual Dating option, thematically appropriate multimedia advertising throughout the entirety of your free date.

And yes, if you click far enough (for instance, on the link to "Post multiple profiles with bulk upload, you sleaze"), you will suddenly be reminded of today's date, and feel silly that you believed they were totally for real. This is the way Google does Happy April Fool's Day, y'all. (Via EV, who has no website) And here's my vote for runners-up in the Best April Fool's Day post contest: "Watch Your Diet By Watching TV: Certain shows can put weight right on those hips, others found to help shed pounds" Keep dreamin' y'all...

Blog Night is Tonight...

The JCC of Manhattan presents Blog Night @ the Lit Cafe Thursday, March 30--8pm Admission is free...the JCC is at 334 Amsterdam Avenue at 76th Street. Hope to see you there.

Esther's Rent Fund

You'll notice at the right that I've added a PayPal Donation button...no, I'm not begging, and yes, participation over here at JDaters Anonymous is still 100 percent free and open to all. But in case any of you are high-powered career types with money to burn and would like to throw some Benjamins (or Washingtons) over here to support a struggling writer with a killer rent, I'm providing the option. Thanks for your support...

Desperately Seeking Sperm-Donors

Saturday morning, I read "Looking for Mr. Good Sperm," Jennifer Egan's NY Times Magazine cover story about women in their thirties who have made it their priorities to have babies on their own, with the help of sperm donors.

One day last October, Karyn, a 39-year-old executive, pulled her online dating profile off JDate and Match.com, two sites she had been using, along with an endless series of leads, tips and blind dates arranged by friends and colleagues, to search for a man she wanted to marry and raise a family with. At long last, after something like 100 dates in the past 10 years and several serious relationships, she had found the man she refers to, tongue only slightly in cheek, as "the one." It all began last summer, when she broke off a relationship with a younger man who wasn't ready for children and got serious about the idea of conceiving on her own. She gathered information about fertility doctors and sperm banks. "Then a childhood friend of mine was over," she told me. "I pulled up the Web site of the only sperm bank that I know of that has adult photos. There happened to be one Jewish person. I pulled up the photo, and I looked at my friend, and I looked at his picture, and I said, 'Oh, my God.' I can't say love at first sight, because, you know. But he was the one."

One cute Jewish person, and she's sold. Well, to an extent, I can't blame her, especially after 100 dates, which isn't a number I've reached. So I guess people who are not in sperm donor clinics shouldn't throw vials. And while a certain part of me shouted out a supportive "you go, girl!" to the women who aren't waiting for the men to get their acts together or emerge from whatever rocks they're hiding under, another part of me was appalled at what I perceive to be in part, the creation of a child to substitute for the warmth of a lover or life companion, as well as the reduction of any sexual relationships that the mothers may participate in to a mere flesh-on-flesh encounter, with no strings and absent of any meaning or potential for future. Some of the women, while certain that they want their own children, are also in "relationships" with men who don't want children at all, and there seems to be an understanding that although the relationship between the two consenting adults will go on after the baby's born, said child will have no relationship with his or her mother's sexual partner. Not only can't I imagine how this will work parenting-wise, I wonder if it's going to be a lot more work to try to keep those parts of her life separate. But here's the case that really interested me.

Q., a 43-year-old health-care manager who attended a yeshiva from kindergarten through high school (she asked that I use only one of her initials), first sought out a Jewish donor. "Everybody either had glasses, they're balding or their grandmother was diabetic and had heart disease— typical Jewish population," she told me. Her solution: a 6-foot-2 Catholic, German stock on both sides, with curly blond hair and blue eyes. "He really was the typical Aryan perfect human being," she said, laughing. "He was a bodybuilder. He played the guitar and the drums, and he sang. He was captain of the rugby team in college. When I had the in vitro process done, the embryologist said: 'This is some of the best sperm I've ever seen. It just about jumped out of the test tubes."' Q.'s golden-curled, blue-eyed daughter has just turned 2.

For a moment, let's put aside the fact that she found the entire Jewish population wanting and opted for a Catholic, a "typical Aryan perfect human being," as she put it. And let's not discuss the psychological reasons for choosing to engineer your child with stock from the perceived perfect population (and whether or not such a decision is, in its own way, eugenics albeit an extremely different sort than that practiced by Nazi doctors). Let us instead focus on her demographic profile...she attended yeshiva through high school. So did I. What happened to her between 18 and her current 43 in order to persuade her that this was the only way to move ahead with her life? And how did she overcome community disapproval? Is she even part of a community? And did that inclusion or exclusion influence her decisions? What kind of support structure does she have, both financially and familially to be able to support a child on her own? And the question I found myself asking as I read the article, theoretically and educationally, this woman and I share a background--if I get to the point where if biologically the choices are procreate or give up the chance for motherhood, would my choices be any different? I obviously don't know. But what became clear to me as I read was that I'm way luckier with the support structures in my life than she seems to be with hers.

[...]Q. developed severe hypertension during her pregnancy and had to be hospitalized several times. Her symptoms lingered even after her daughter was born, and she became preoccupied with what would happen to the baby girl if she were to die. Her brother and a sister are selfish, she says, and her mother is elderly. Last fall, she went to the Donor Sibling Registry and got a shock: the Aryan bodybuilder with the leaping sperm has fathered 21 children (and counting — he is still an active donor), including four sets of twins. These children are all 3 and under, and their families — four lesbian couples, three heterosexual couples and six single mothers — have formed their own Listserv, where photographs of the children (all blond, with a strong familial resemblance) are posted, and daily e-mail messages are exchanged about birthdays, toilet training and the like. They are planning a group vacation in 2007. "I was elated," Q. told me. "To quote the granny on 'The Beverly Hillbillies,' I wanted her to have kin. Now here's kin that look like her; that're in her same age range. I even thought that if I get to know somebody really well from this group, maybe I would pick one of these other mothers, if they would be interested, to be designated as a guardian for my daughter."

Her mother is elderly. And her brother and sister are "selfish," she says. I don't know what that means, other than that apparently they don't support her. So if something--God forbid--happens to her, it looks likely that she'll be designating one of the other mothers--of children who happen to share the same genetic material but who may have nothing else in common, especially if her Jewish heritage is important--to be the guardian for her child. I'm not here to judge the choices of others. I'm not in their biological or situational shoes, and until I am, I can't tell you how tight said shoes are. But as the author of a book about children who survived the Holocaust because they were hidden--often with non-Jewish families, with the most Aryan-looking among them standing the strongest chance at survival--I can't help but feel somewhat unsettled, on a Jewish collective unconscious level. I've said it before, even with parents and siblings who I think would be willing to help, I don't think I could do it alone. And I don't think I'd expect the help, or be brazen enough to ask them for it. And as a freelance writer, I don't think I'd ever have the income to do it. And of course, a substantial part of me isn't willing to give up the dream of having it all--the companionship, the compatibility, and the conception--with the right guy at my side.

From the Simple Street Meet to an Audience With the Dating Hermit

Walking up Broadway last night, I ran into a friend of mine. She was with a friend of hers, and after my friend L. introduced me to her friend L. (I swear, they're both Ls) as "the world-famous singles columnist Esther Kustanowitz" (immediately proven untrue by her friend saying, "I never heard of you"), we struck up a conversation about dating. And just like always, I had no answers to her questions, which didn't stop me from talking for about 20 minutes. But still, I had no direct answers, because I'm not sure there are any. Her main question: "Why aren't people meeting each other?" Now, there's no real way to answer this. Firstly, because there's no way to prove that people aren't meeting each other in general. It's too general a question: somewhere, people are meeting and even marrying. I know this because I get the Sunday Styles section of the New York Times and because I keep getting wedding invitations in the mail. But the question could be: "Why aren't people meeting on the Upper West Side?" "Why can't I meet anyone?" or "Where do I go to meet someone?" It could even 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 the answers to any of these questions, because, for f*ck's sake, I'm still writing this blog and my column. Are there questions about dating that actually have objective answers? Or is anyone claiming to have "the answer" (this means you, Rules ladies and He's Just Not That Into You) a liar by definition? Isn't it all subjective? And even in any objective study of dating and relationship patterns, aren't we all just asking "Why is it taking me so long to find love and when will it finally happen?" What do you guys think? Say you've climbed to the top of a mountain in the Andes, where lives a dating hermit with all the answers to any questions we might want to ask about the courtship process...and say you're allowed two questions...what do you ask? And what kind of answers would you expect?

Jury Still Out on Online Dating...

Three publications. Three headlines. Stay tuned for the kicker... Online Daters Report Mostly Positive Connections (USA TODAY) Online Dating Common, But Safety a Concern (i-Newswire) Most Americans Think Online Dating is Dangerous (Linux Electrons) ...the aforementioned kicker? All three articles are based on the same new Pew Internet study about online dating. Which, just for the record, is titled: "Americans who are seeking romance use the internet to help them in their search, but there is still widespread concern about the safety of online dating." (Snappy title. Take a hint from Fiona Apple, and title the study "Americans Who Are...") Which makes me think that "news about the online dating industry" is a lot more like tofu than we thought, picking up the flavor of whatever spices it's cooked with, but independently and on a molecular/flavoral level, inherently pareve. But like I said, this no longer affects me. I'm done. Again. For now.

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

Sometimes the second date takes a while to happen. It shouldn't, if both parties are into each other. But busy schedules being what they are, sometimes, even if you really like each other, the second meeting takes longer than it should. And now, presenting the "Second Date" of Mars & Venus Go to Shul: the Jewish Dating Blogcarnival: Even though the two of them hail from different definitions of connection to Jewish life, Hilary and Annabel Lee both deal with dates for whom lack of religious observance may cause a problem. Nice Jewish Girl compares her life to a doughnut. Writersbloc suffers a pre-Valentine's Day loss, issues a wish list to the one that hurt her and learns to cope amidst marrying friends. SweetRose is a little shocked to find someone who makes keen observations about her in a relatively short time and muses on transparency. Passionate Life has formed a connection with a woman who's going through the conversion process, and decides to terminate correspondence with her, only to be resumed once she's become a member of the Tribe. The Trials and Tribulations of Me and My Rack (that's right) announces that Mr. Wonderful "has turned out to be anything but..." and Mission2Moscow ponders the Functional Value of Heartache. JeruGuru notes correctly that due to skimpy costumes and flowing alcohol, Purim's an excellent excuse to meet some eligible singles... and JDater relays a story about a spunky, fed-up female friend of his who gave an inappropriate questioner something to think about... Ben Baruch, Shabot6000's Aba, attended a Frumster focus group...and reminds this blogmistress that it might be time to revisit the whole classification issue... Maybe we should all just become acquainted with the true meaning of March 9: Get Over It Day (as reported by Annabel Lee)... Ladies and gentlemen, you've been wonderful dates. Maybe next time, we'll Blogcarnival back at your place? Be in touch and we'll work out the details...Next deadline is March 30...

Submit your blog article to this edition of “mars & venus go to shul”! Use our carnival submission form. Past posts and future hosts can be found on our blog carnival index page.

Dumenco Opines: People Read Blogs Because...

Ever since I started blogging, I became a lightning rod for questions about the emergent technology: isn't a blog the same as a website? could anyone start a blog? and why would they want to? Now, media expert Simon Dumenco announces the answer to that last question: people read blogs because they want to get laid:

In this week's Media Guy column for Advertising Age magazine, Dumenco contends that knowledge of the hippest, hottest blogs can increase hook-up opportunities and boost sexual attractiveness. He maintains some people are using niche blogs such as Gawker.com and Defamer.com to gain pop cultural insights that make them more socially desirable and ultimately more likely to get lucky.

Picture it, Los Angeles, sometime last month. I'm sitting at a Coffee Bean with Nina Litvak, the co-writer of the new movie When Do We Eat (billed as the first Passover comedy, review coming soon...). A man at the next table, clearly also a writer, starts schmoozing with us..."are you guys comedy writers?" Nina explains that she's just co-written a comedy, and I say something along the lines of "I have a column in NY, and generally do a lot of writing, and a great deal of that is comedic." He looks at me, pauses, and says, "You're a blogger, aren't you." He said it just like that, no question mark at the end, just a period. He knew. And that was when I decided to dress a little nicer for the rest of my trip, and always put on some semblance of makeup, even if I was just going to the Coffee Bean. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that if I looked like Cameron Diaz, no one would have assumed that I was a blogger. But in my jaunty cap, a sweatshirt, no makeup and jeans, and I was instantly identifiable. Which brings me to my point: blogs, and by extension, bloggers, are not perceived as sexy. As I've said before, after standing in a line of bloggers waiting for admittance to a screening of Serenity, "we are not a pretty people." Additionally, I believe that my blogs--particularly this one--have actually cost me dates. True, anyone who wants to know the real me will by definition need to understand and tolerate the blogginess of me. But there are those men who are easily scared by a woman who has a forum online and an audience of hundreds in which she can discuss any manner of dating-related customs, behaviors and miscellany. Never you mind if she doesn't actually discuss her own dates, relationships and specific personal behaviors the way some of her peers do. That the potential, the readership, is there, is enough. Couple that with my singles column in the Jewish Week, and it's a daunting media machine to come to terms with before a first date. So, although I hadn't ever intended it that way, acceptance of my blogs has become a prerequisite for dating, the way other people feel about having a guy get them a glass of water or opening a car door and waiting until they go inside. If anything, for me, involvement in blogging is impeding the lucky-ness that Dumenco seems to indicate that blogfollowers hope to get... Looks like I'm going to have to kiss a lot of blogs before I find my prince. No offense to the rest of the blogtribe, but I'm hoping that people don't always look at me and say, "You're a blogger, aren't you..."

Once a Quitter...

...always a quitter. That's right. Queen Esther's Royal Budget no longer allows for products with such a low return on investment, so she's opting out until her finances improve. Or until her optimism that she can meet someone great in real life plummet sufficiently. Whichever comes first.

Blog Night: Help Me Choose...(Part Deux)

Greetings, loyal (and new) readers... I'm pleased to announce that I'm scheduled to do a reading at the JCC's Lit Cafe Blog Night, co-featuring Stephanie Klein. And I've been asked to read some of the highlights from my blog (er, blogs). So now's the time for all good blogreaders to come to the aid of their--um, me. Over at My Urban Kvetch, I've taken the liberty of compiling links to a few posts that I'm considering reading. I'm doing the same for JDaters Anonymous so that you guys can see what I'm considering in terms of material. Feel free to vote, or nominate your own favorites...and come by to this FREE event on March 30th to hang out with Stephanie and me as we blogjourney before a live, wine-soaked audience. Back at Nothing The Vanishing In the Air Refraction Got others?? Share your favorite posts here...

Marching With the Penguins

Marching With the Penguins (JW-March 4,2006)

Every year, penguins embark on a long, dangerous journey. Their destination is the locus of all penguin life, the area from which they all originated, their homeland in the Antarctic. Although they are birds, they do not fly, and although they make their home underwater, they do not swim. They walk. One foot in front of the other, trudging on into a horizon that’s all ice, snow and instinct. The impetus for movement is biological and perhaps also emotional. Despite the frozen clime, they’re on a regenerative mission of life: the search for a mate. In other words, it’s kind of like a national Jewish singles event — think of the United Jewish Communities young leadership conference, or a JDate-sponsored trip to Israel, with all the marriageable Jews sporting permanent formal wear.

For the rest of the article, click here.

Back at Nothing

[Not sure if I ever posted this...I wrote it a while ago and shelved it. But on a night when I'm feeling wistful in the waning hours of my escape from my New York life, it seemed somehow appropriate to share it now. --EDK] I was sitting there at dinner with him, when I felt the change, like a click of a gear, or my breath stopping, or heartbeat skipping. It wasn’t anything he’d said, or his tone or body language that told me where I was. But suddenly, everything was altered, and not in the way I’d hoped for. My mood went from mirthful to mournful in a moment, and something in my eyes or face must have changed, too, because he noticed the shift. What’s wrong? he asked. Nothing, I said, because nothing was all I had to say. In the beginning, when I think there’s something, it all comes down to nothing. I thought he felt something, and he felt nothing. Nothing ever happens. Nothing is what it seemed to be. Nothing is what I’d expected—nothing but hope, that is, and hope has once again amounted to nothing. And there was nothing else to say. At that moment, I had realized where I was again. Back where I always end up. Wherever you go, there you are and always have been, as I always am, regardless of miles traveled on highways or through occasionally turbulent skies; regardless of the presence of leg or cleavage shown or the suggestive tint of lipstick; regardless of the hope springing eternal and the belief in my intrinsic, still-unacknowledged worth; regardless of how closely I’d listened and how well I’d understood. In the end, it doesn’t matter. Back at nothing is where you are when you realize that you’ve misinterpreted everything at every possible turn. Easy smiles and emotional nakedness do not a romantic connection make. In fact, the recipe may differ from circumstance to circumstance, city to city, but the resulting dish is always disappointment: yields one serving. Once again, I’ll be dining alone. That moment of a hushed eureka was one of pure understanding, pure disappointment. It extended beyond the reach of ordinary silence. There was simply nothing else to say.

Online Dating--Better for Flings or Relationships?

According to an article in this new online magazine called Shebrew, online dating, while good for casual hooking up, is no place to meet anyone for a long-term relationship. Now, we all know people who have met and married through online dating. But the question is, does the culture of online dating in general create an atmosphere of burning hot and fast, eventually burning out entirely, or does it actually serve as an important foundation on which to build a future?

The anonymity of the internet created a strangely depraved atmosphere. I was suddenly some kind of Jewish Casanova. I developed a system, documenting names and contact information as if I were running a business. It was fun, I cannot deny. But there was a surprisingly sleazy and sordid side to this dating site, and eventually the novelty was lost. I had signed up looking for a relationship, not a series of meaningless hookups. The promise of endless encounters with new women kept me ensnared for a while, with, but for me, the setup was too contrived to breed the emotional climate necessary for a real relationship.

Do we agree? Disagree? Discuss...

Like Reading JDA? You'll Love Commenting on JDA!

At the Jewlicious @ the Beach conference, I was just speaking with two participants who told me that they read JDaters Anonymous...so great that they identified themselves...so great, in fact, that they get a shoutout (yo, yo...Kevin and Jenna!) and inspire a post. You know I love and value all of my readers, whether you're silent or vociferous. But I want to encourage those of you who love to watch to actually participate in the conversation...your opinions are as valued as your site visits... So feel free to pick a Blogger identity, even if it's the very popular choice "Anonymous", and leave your two cents here for us all to see. You're all welcome here...

"Writing the Book on Breaking Up"

Nothing like a breakup-related post for just after Valentine's Day. Not that you should need it, ever, but still: Writing the Book on Breaking Up (Jewish Week, 2/17/06)

Famously, the course of love does not run smooth — have Brad and Jen taught us nothing? — nor does it always become the eternal substance of legend. Real relationships contain struggles, problems and arguments. And when a breakup occurs, whether it’s expected or an utter surprise, the end result is it’s over. Sometimes there’s pain or anger. Sometimes there are new, dysfunctional relationships with men or women who are not good for you (like Ben & Jerry or Sara Lee). Some people proclaim disinterest in ever dating again and others run right out and join JDate or Frumster. (Reactions to breakups may vary.) Or you could just pick up the new book, “It’s Not Me, It’s You: The Ultimate Breakup Book” by Anna Jane Grossman and Flint Wainess, which celebrates successful breakups of all sorts. INMIY, as it is bound to become known, derives its strength from humor and balance: one man and one woman lay themselves and their romantic histories bare to comfort and entertain the masses. If we are all soldiers on the battlefield of love, then INMIY is the USO show we’ve all been waiting for.

--more here--

Romancing the Bloggers...

For many people, the question is, "would you date someone who has a blog?" The implication is that said person who has a blog will undoubtedly blog in some way about your relationship. But increasingly, for bloggers, the question is morphing and becomes "would you date someone who didn't have a blog?" Over at WebProNews, Ken Yarmosh talks about why he'd like to date women bloggers:

It may sound funny but blogging may actually help foster more successful dating relationships. Why? Well just take a look at their blog either before or after a date and you'll begin to get a pretty decent picture of their beliefs, ideology, and interests. If their blog exists in a social environment like MySpace or Xanga, you can also get a pretty good idea as to who they are "interacting" with on a regular basis - yeah, I'm probably going to stay away from the girl who has tons of comments from other guys, she may be a bit too flirty. Would I date someone who doesn't have a blog? Yes, I guess I would. But blogging is attractive. It means the wheels are turning upstairs. It shows that someone is observant, pensive, and engaged in their world.

Oh Ken...have I got some really great, spunky, pensive girls for you...

"They're Not Even a Real Country Anyway..."

It's time we talked aboot this. We have nothing agaynst Canadians per se. Unless "we" includes South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone, but you already knew that they Blame Canada for everything. And George Carlin, whose "Let's Bomb Canada" routine makes strange, disturbingly violent foreign policy sense. Not that Canada should be blamed or bombed. No. Some of my best blogfriends are from Canada. But you Canadians need to get off your butts and ask us out. According to a new survey--coordinated by Harlequin Enterprises, so consider the source--a whopping 75% of Canadians lack the cojones courage to make the first move. Since I've made the first move three times in the last twelve months (never you mind the gut-wrenching results), this is proof that either a) I am not Canadian, or b) I am an exceptional Canadian. (Only the passport agency knows for sure.) So what's a Canadian to do? Become a "North American," because the survey then stops talking about Canadians per se and extends the territory of shyness to the entire continent:

More than 70 per cent of North Americans who were surveyed depend on friends to do the legwork when it comes to meeting people. Relying on an old college buddy to set up a double date can actually work, as 33 per cent of those surveyed met their current or last squeeze through friends.

Friends! Now why didn't I think of that? Now, where are all of my old college buddies? Oh yeah. Married. With kids. And SUVs. In the suburbs.

And if all else fails, some Canadians turn to fortifying their courage with alcohol. Twenty-six per cent of the men surveyed admitted to drinking in order to get up the confidence to approach someone, while only 15 per cent of women said a drink or two helps.

Finally an equal opportunity idea that we can all embrace. Happy hour anyone? How about AA?

The survey found that North America has a somewhat idealistic view of love as 42 per cent of those questioned said they think the best way to meet new people is by chance...[but] only 17 percent of those surveyed said they met their current or last significant other by chance.

Chance...like the meet-cute of movie legend. Stumble over a frog who loves you and suddenly he becomes a prince. But how many frogs exactly does it take?

Forty seven per cent said they believe you need to date between two and 10 people before finding the one, whereas only 12 per cent of those surveyed feel you only need to date one person to find your true one and only.

New math: Forty-seven plus twelve equals a hundred. It doesn't? Well, count me among the 41% who are missing in action on this question. I don't have any answers. I just don't want to buy anything sold or processed. Or sell anything bought or processed. Or process anything sold, bought or processed. In a word: kickboxing. It's the sport of the future.

What's Wrong With Us?

We date. And date. And date. But why can't we get to the next level? What's wrong with us? Glad you asked. Because now there's a book. Says author Jillian Straus of her new book, Unhooked Generation:

This book explores why so many of us face a rocky, detained, or pit-fallen road to long-term commitment. Why is the search for love so difficult for us, and what can we do about it?First I will take you through my own story as a typical thirtysomething single, urban professional. Then I will examine the cultural factors uniquely affecting this generation, what I call “The Seven Evil Influences,” that undermine our relationships every day. Through the stories of single men and women I will explore how these influences make us look at potential partners, how they confuse the dance by which we court each other, change how we perceive commitment, and pose real obstacles on the path to romantic fulfillment.

I'm tired of these books: what's wrong with us, why can't we, why isn't he into you...it's enough to drive a person mental. Or, as it's known in the scientific parlance: the week before Valentine's Day. There'll be more. Because there's always more. And it's only February 9.

Love-a-Mensch Week

No, I'm not kidding. And yes, I wish I were. Leave it to JDate and love coach Robin Gorman Newman to bring you this week, which just so happens to lead up to Valentine's Day. Coincidence? According to a PR Newswire alert, JDate asked members to select their favorite single celebrity mensches. "Mensches are the people that every mother would love," said Robin Gorman Newman, creator of 'Love a Mensch Week' and author of "How to Marry a Mensch." Women prefer Braff. Of course. Zach Braff got 27% of the vote. Then, the poll gets a little strange. Sex and the City's Mr. Big himself, Chris Noth (since when is he Jewish? Maybe he just fits Newman's definition...) gets 20% of the vote, same as #3 pick, Howard Stern. (What? I know.) Then we've got Brody (Adrien), Brody (Adam) and Brooks (Al, which I can only imagine refers to Albert Brooks). And the men like themselves some Portman--Natalie ranked at 46%, with Sarah Silverman and Lisa Loeb rounding out the top three. (Trailing these three are Winona Ryder--still, guys?--and Jamie Lynn Sigler.) How am I not ever on this list? Oh yeah. Not a celebrity. Yet. Oh, and by the way...not for nothing, as they say, but: Braff, dating a non-Jew; Portman, loves Israel but is always dating non-Jews; Silverman, dating Jimmy Kimmel. There are more, but I don't want to depress myself. Again, not that there's anything wrong with finding love. I mean, most of the commenters here are looking for that same thing, but you understand my issue...

Carnival's A-Coming...

...sometime over the next two days, I'll probably post the next edition of Mars & Venus Go To Shul: the Jewish Singles and Dating Blogcarnival. Things are starting a little slow with this carnival, because I've been traveling so much. But if you'd like to submit to this edition, please let me know. And if you'd like to host the blogcarnival on your blog, please speak up, kids! In the interim, here's something you might appreciate... We all say we're looking for someone who speaks our language. But maybe that's just a metaphor. Now we don’t have to limit ourselves. Or at least men don't have to thusly limit themselves: A new service called CuteOnly.com introduces Russian women to men all over the world using an online, automated translation feature. Hooray. (via Online Personals Watch)

Do You "Need a Mensch"?

If you're holding out for a hero mensch, you might enjoy Frumster's latest viral video, scripted by the online dating company and creatively designed and animated by ShaBot's Aba, Ben Baruch. "Enjoy!"

Older Men, Revisited

A recent post by Chayyei Sarah, titled "No More Creepy Old Guys," has inspired me to reopen the earlier discussion on older men/younger women. She notes that on one of the internet dating services she frequents (although I'm not sure she'd love my using that term), DosiDate, they've just instituted age limits to their member searches. "Given how many men in their 50's have "initiated contact" with me through the various dating websites on which I'm a member," she says, "you can bet I went into my Dosidate account right away to set up an acceptable age range." She says she was "extremely liberal," in both directions, when setting the boundaries, but that her "policy has long been that if a man is closer to my father's age than he is to mine, he's just out of luck. My father was 24 when I was born. You do the math." She also makes some important distinctions, that there's a difference between slightly older and creepy older men looking for trophy wives, that men and women should both be a little more open-minded in the dating process, but that both sides have to be realistic. Feel free to go over there and comment, or carry on the conversation here, as you've been doing, even while I was away. I know that people feel very passionately about this issue, and that's leading to some people being accusatory and judgmental, and others becoming defensive...let's keep the discussion civil, and agree to disagree where we have to. I maintain, as I said on CS's site, that online dating, although good at expanding the circles, which is unquestionably the name of the game in Jewish dating, also offers us a chance to reject someone based on a different set of criteria than we might observe if our original encounter is face-to-face. Picture it...thirtysomething you goes to a party. Friends introduce you to a man who has a friendly, open smile, a warm sense of humor and an engaging demeanor. As you talk, you determine an intellectual--and, what's that?--a religious/spiritual compatibility. Then later, you find out that the person is in his late forties or early fifties. You may feel a momentary disappointment that the person doesn't share your immediate frame of reference, but if there's enough "else" there, you probably won't care. Because it's about connecting with a person. One friend of mine married a man in his fifties who already had five kids, one of them with a child...The couple had a baby about a year later, a few months after one of the other kids had a baby, rendering my friend a grandmother before she was even a mother. There are, of course, exceptions. A friend of mine recently told me about a man who was in his late fifties who wanted to date her; she liked him, but she was concerned. If things worked out, he'd be in his sixties when their kids were born, seventies when they were in high school and college, and it was likely that my friend would at some point, end up bearing the lion's share of the parenting, either through infirmity, or decreased energy due to aging, or G-d forbid, even because of an early widowhood. True, no one can know what life has in store. Philanthropists become victims in fatal traffic accidents, and terrorism cuts off lives in their prime. Illness knows no good timing or age or circumstance. Those are things we cannot control. But is it any wonder that for women in their thirties, what they're ideally looking for is to maximize their chances with a partner they can build a life with, and with whom they can grow old, together? A radical idea? Eliminate the age range entirely, and have people respond solely to picture and profile content. Rumor has it people mostly respond to pictures anyway...

Very Interesting Discussion, Kids...

For the most part, very well-behaved, respectful discussion of two very interesting subjects: friends with benefits, and age-based dating decisions. I enjoyed checking in with the conversation from various tropical climes, and once I've fully read through the discussion thread from start to finish, I will hopefully get around to doing some additional commenting on the subjects myself! Things you can do to entertain yourselves in the interim: -- Visit Hilary and Annabel Lee (as well as constant supporters C and Ken "Long-Lost" Wheaton), and show them some comments love -- Vote over at the JIBs (Jewish and Israel Blog Awards) -- Visit Jewlicious and read about our upcoming conference on Jewish identity -- Register for said conference -- Check out "It's a Blog World After All," an article in the Jewish Journal about Jewish blogs

Vote early, vote semi-often

On Esther's behalf, while she's sailing the high seas, I thought I'd let y'all know that you can now vote for JDaters Anonymous for Best Jewish Humor Blog over in the JIB Finals. And My Urban Kvetch is a finalist for Best Jewish Culture Blog. You can vote every three days between now and 2 February 2006. Best of luck to all the finalists! (Which - sob - does not include me.)

"Friends With Benefits"

About this Friends-with-Benefits situation... I know what the components are: friendship + fooling around. But I've never been able to understand it fully. Maybe I'm looking at things in black-and-white, but the way I see it, if you're attracted to someone, and you like their personality and want to hang out with them, why isn't that called--or why wouldn't you want it to be called--a relationship? Which of these elements is present in a relationship that is not present in a FWB scenario?

• Trust
• Attraction
• Mutuality
• Convenience
• Understanding of the rules
• Respect
• Concern

I suppose if both people are equally invested in the casual nature of the relationship as FWBs, then it's fine. But how do you ensure that both of those people are on the exact same wavelength at the exact same time? And how do you prevent attachment?

Is such a relationship by definition limited in duration, until the whim of either party expires, or can it go on for years as long as both parties acquiesce? And again, absent the formal declaration of an agreement, does such a tacit arrangement constitute the very commitment the pair of FWBs are seeking to elude? One last question...is FWBs more generally acceptable in the college-age population? Can people in their thirties and forties engage in these kinds of relationships with impunity, or is there always ultimately a price to pay? I'm sure other people will have opinions on this. So I'm going to board a boat and let the sparks fly while I'm away...who knows? Maybe I'll even give you some guest bloggers...

"...Exciting and New..."

I'm off to cruise the Caribbean with Jewish singles. Why? To make sure that you guys have interesting material to keep you warm throughout the winter months. And because I need some relaxation that doesn't involve hibernating in my apartment in flannel pajamas because it's too cold to even let my feet touch the uncarpeted floor. (Want to read my Urban Kvetch post about going on the cruise? Don't let me stop you.) Internet access will be expensive and limited, so I can't promise heavy posting. But I'm going to try to do some posts in advance so you'll have what to talk about while I'm away. Let's start with a controversial topic: Love...is it really "exciting and new"? Or is love comfort, stability, and calm? And what is the craziest thing you've ever done for love (or for the possibility of love)?

Resolution: Post Links to Articles Sooner

OK, so I've missed a column or two. So here are the last two columns I've not linked to yet...coincidentally, the first two columns of 2006: What You Can't Leave Behind

Last Friday night, a few blocks from home, I sat in a row of chairs along a sanctuary wall. This particular synagogue was not some place I’d normally go, but accompanied by the excuse of friends from out of town, I tried something new-ish along with my Jewish. It wasn’t the traditional service I was used to; many congregants danced as they celebrated the incoming Sabbath, and a few white-clad, barefoot Jews reminded me of the hordes I had seen emerging from L.A.’s Kabbalah Centre in September. It was foreign but spirited, revealing an enthusiasm for prayer and Shabbat that I hadn’t felt in a while. After the Jews had been seated, the rabbi asked us to close our eyes. As we headed into Shabbat — which happened to coincide with the weekend of Rosh Chodesh, the new moon, and which was also marked on the Gregorian calendar as “New Year’s Weekend” — the rabbi asked us to think about what we could leave behind during this transitional moment. As I tried to clear my head of weekday clutter, sensory over-stimulation and the teeming army of germs conspiring to attack my sinuses, one word came into my mind: a proper name. As the year slipped away, I knew what I had to leave behind...

Soul (Mates) on Ice (no, I don't understand the title either)

Four 30-something women sat at a table, talking about relationships — it all seemed very “Sex and the City,” only with maki sushi instead of martinis. The subject was soulmates. “You have a net of available soulmate options,” someone said. “But some of them are quick minnows. You think they’re there and available, but they dart away.” The soulmates-as-fish-in-the-sea metaphors seemed appropriate, if a little insensitive to the spicy tuna rolls on our plates. One married friend maintained that soulmates were defined by commitment. “If the commitment readiness isn’t there, he’s not your soulmate.” But did that mean that soulmate was just another synonym for commitment or love? If something is bashert, meant to be, isn’t it always meant to be? And what of fizzled relationships that seemed promising before they plummeted; what of the perceived soulmates gone inexplicably AWOL? ....

For Your Consideration: Two More Voting Days

Watching last night's Golden Globe Awards, it suddenly struck me that I've been remiss in mentioning here that JDaters Anonymous has been nominated for Best Humor Blog in the Jewish and Israel Blog Awards. And since I don't have a tip jar on this site or a fancy graphic pointing you to my Amazon Wishlist, I'm asking for a retroactive Chanukah present. Check out the main page of the JIB Awards site (and/or my recap of the category on Jewlicious) and if you feel I deserve it, spend a few minutes voting for JDA for Best Humor Blog. Let's be clear: I don't expect to win. A few of those blogs have more visitors per day than I do all year. Statistically speaking, it's not possible for me to win. But I'd like to rate a little higher, and if you'd like to help me, I'd be most grateful. While you're there, check out My Urban Kvetch's two nominations, for Best Personal Blog and Best Culture Blog (the one contest where I have a chance of making it to the next round). And what the hell...why not vote? The only other pitch I'll make is for that other blog I'm all enmeshed with: Jewlicious, which is pretty much nominated in every category. Of course, feel free to explore some of the other options there and vote it up big time for the blogs you like. And thank you all for your voting support, as well as for your active commenting here...JDA wouldn't be the same without you...