Singles

Next Stop: Love?

I wasn’t going to re-up my Jdate subscription. I mean, life is disappointing enough. Why add insult to injury by paying for it?

But this one fellow caught my eye. He, with his 1970s moustache and unabashed quest for “love and couplehood and partnership for life,” although since he wrote in Hebrew it is entirely possible that he was actually seeking a lovely roommate who doesn’t mind living with a couple.

Love Bubble

We got off work for 'Yom Yerushalyim' so naturally, I left Jerusalem and headed straight for Tel Aviv.

I hate crowds. And zealotry.

But I also hate beaches. What's a girl to do?

My girlfriend, who instigated the little trek to Tel Aviv, was incredulous. Who doesn't like the beach?

Me. I hate sun, for starters. And happy, glowing people. And sand. Oh, and water. And wearing a bathing suit. Especially wearing a bathing suit.

"You're going to learn to love the beach," was all my friend said.

Rush Hour Crush

I saw the cutie again on the bus this morning.

The one with the curly hair cropped short and the serious, worried face that reminds me of Jonathan Richman.

Sigh. How Jonathan Richman used to make my heart go pitter-pat during my college days when I would rush to see him in live shows and push to the front of the stage the better to see his fancy hip moves and crazy rhymes and forlorn longing.

The Matchup: Douglas And Me, Virtually

04/08/2010
Special To The Jewish Week

‘Douglas is out of town again,” I tell my mother with a sigh. “I am so proud of him, really, winning the MacArthur ‘genius’ grant and then spending the free time he doesn’t have in Haiti, but still ... even geniuses need to spend some time with their girlfriends!” 

“I wish I could meet this Douglas, I have heard so much about him,” is my mother’s reply. 

So do I. 

We Can Make it if We Try

Is it a coincidence that Bill Wither's Just the Two of Us is looping around endlessly in my head as I walk my dog the evening of the breakup call?

In other words, once again, it is just the two of us: Mister Trevor Dog and Me.

Sure, walking him is like walking a boulder, since it often involves pulling dead weight.

Sometimes he just plunks himself down on the pavement, kersplat!, and when I turn around to see what is holding him up he is just crouching there low, glowering at me, giving me the finger.

The Matchup: Looking For The Perfect ... Shul

12/12/2007
Special To The Jewish Week

I was at another gathering of intelligent Jews committed to Jewish life, identity and spirituality, all of them networking and talking about the issues that brought us together, when I heard a familiar sentence. “I’d lived on the Upper West Side for nearly 20 years before I found the perfect one.”

The Matchup: The Intermarriage Artist

11/28/2007
Special To The Jewish Week

I recently came back from a West Coast tour of sorts, which included participation in an L.A.-based conference for Jewish leaders in their 20s and 30s. The Professional Leaders Project (PLP) called participants “talent,” in perhaps an intentional evocation of “the industry.” But our talents were celebrated and cultivated in a very un-Hollywood-like way: through intensive peer leadership, networking and professional mentoring. No casting couch required.

The Matchup: Table For More Than Two

11/08/2007
Special To The Jewish Week

Good food, candlelight, wine and conversation after a long week is the quintessential (hoped-for) weekend plan, whether it’s for a night out, or — as it is for many Jews — for a Friday-night dinner. But for married couples that host weekly Shabbat dinners, each Friday night also represents an opportunity to help singles who might otherwise go unfed physically, spiritually or romantically.

The Matchup: Making Matches In The Holy City

03/08/2007
Special To The Jewish Week

Half a world away from her home, a bronchitis-stricken American writer stumbles into her cousins’ apartment in Jerusalem to recuperate in the embrace of her Israeli family. Technically a guest, she feels more like a patient, but in this moment, certainly not a singles columnist. She sits in the kitchen, drinking tea, which is pretty much all her beleaguered throat can handle right now. And as the veil of Hebrew pulls back and her ear adjusts to the language, she slowly becomes aware of some oddly familiar phrases.

Shidduch 2.0: Blogging For A Bashert

06/18/2008
Staff Writer
For many Orthodox singles, the road to marriage is like Snake Hill Road in Staten Island — a twisting-turning street that forces drivers to speed up, slow down, then make a few sharp turns until finally clearing the divider and proceeding (hopefully) with smooth sailing. But the “shidduch road” is not only a jerky ride at times; it’s also fraught with an endless array of rules — bewildering to even the most seasoned shidduch dater, since there’s no agreed-upon rulebook.       Until now.  
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