Abigail in Love (Maybe)

The Perfect Night for Romance

It was a perfect night.

First the drive from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv, which is often more like a “extended standstill” than an actual drive, was smooth sailing and without incident.

And even the weather, which has been so hot and oppressive, managed to cooperate.

Which is another way of saying that by the time we got to Tel Aviv, I even sensed a slight breeze and did not feel the need to remove every item of clothing, including and not excluding my bones, just to get a little relief.

The Younger the Better, Eh Gentlemen??

Can we talk a moment about men and that little thing called, “age discrimination?"

As in, the way so many single men seem to only want young women.

Notice I am only accusing “many” not “all” men. Which is another way of saying, all men. Or almost all men. Or most of the men out there except for the exceptions, of course.

In the World of Dating, How the Heck Do You Get to "I-Thou?"

Because I got to yoga a little early, the religious guys were still there.

You see, the class before mine is exclusively for “fervently orthodox men.”  They’re American, and baalei teshuva and embody this weird combination of a modern, American sensibility with this newfound holiness.

Not that I’m saying they are holy men, only that they are always looking at the world through the lens of Torah, and by that I mean of G-dliness.

Why Does a Single Gal Still Think She's a J.D. Salinger Character?

Does it say something about me that I love Franny Glass as much today as I did when I first dipped into her existential suffering back when I was a mere high school girl?

I mean, it is somehow immature, or revealing of a certain arrested development on my part, to still identify so strongly with Franny’s struggles, with her absolute breakdown in her quest for grace?

For Truth in its highest order?

On the Road to Love, Keep Your Eyes Ahead (And Don't Look Back)

"So, Avigail, how long have you been driving?" the Israeli driving instructor asked me, peering around his shoulder to look at me in the back seat.

The 17-year-old with the tzizzit and pimples was behind the wheel.

"Oh, only 22 years," I said, adding it up on my fingers.

"What are you saying?" the instructor asked.

I'm shocked, too. Believe you me. Because I first learned to drive in 1988 at Highland Park High School. (Highland Park, Illinois, people!)

Soon By Me, I Say! And By You!

Ladies and gentleman, please give it up for today's guest blogger, my firm friend and fellow Jerusalemite, Beverley Paris, who is my biggest fan next to my dog, Trevor. (Actually, more than my dog, Trevor, but why go there?)

Who Knew Kenny Rogers Was a Dating Guru?

For some reason, Kenny Roger’s The Gambler keeps running through my mind.

What can I say, people?

Despite considering myself not “so American,” as everyone in Israel keeps reminding me, I “totally” am.

Which probably explains why on the loney sheyrut home to Jerusalem from Tel Aviv in the wee hours of the morning I heard Kenny’s twang looping around my head with the words:

“You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run….”

How to Say Goodbye to Dating Forever...And Ever...And Ever

“Mature frum singles, after years of unsuccessful dating, are painfully aware of the incessant and ceaseless march of time working against them.”

Ain’t that the truth!

And you don’t have to be frum to feel this way, says a (ahem!) “mature” single who gleaned much from Shaya Ostrov’s The Inner Circle: Seven Gates to Marriage, whose first line I quoted here.

Who Says a Book Can't Solve All My Love Problems?

It was merely a recommendation.

A gentleman who had read one of my blogs where I complained about dating burn-out posted that I should get my furry little paws on Shaya Ostrov’s book, The Inner Circle: Seven Gates to Marriage.

Ok, he did not use the words “furry paws,” but he might as well have, because soon after I read his posting I was already purring and licking my lips with anticipation, wondering how I was going to get a hold of a Jewish relationship book I didn’t know about!

Sometimes Even the Cats Get Heartsick

I saw the strangest thing yesterday.

Late afternoon, I was waiting for the bus on King George Street in downtown Jerusalem when suddenly, I heard gasps from a few teenage boys.

“Whoa! I don’t believe it!” said one.

They were all staring at something in the middle of the street.

I looked and there, as if in a daze, was a cat, its head hung low between its front paws, its whole figure dejected.

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