Grizzly Bear, this is MY Territory!

Image: http://mrswreesman.wikispaces.com

Grizzly bear, this is my territory!

I'm a new girl in a very strange place thinking about how it's hard to establish my place...

As a newcomer to a neighborhood that is famous for its disproportionate single population and transient nature, it is normal for me to feel disoriented at times.

Like the time when I walk into Shul on Friday night and am completely overwhelmed by the hundreds of people crowding in the two cubic feet between the entrance and the hallway chattering excitedly about absolutely nothing.

Or the time when I enter a gathering with one friend I know, and realize that she knows everyone else present and I do not.

Or... the times when I bump into guys I dated on every single block I walk.

Now do not get me wrong. There are guys I dated and then there are guys I DATED...

The ones that I was sort of friendly with where the relationship ended in a nice “it's not me it's you” kind of way, in a “two great shoes just not a pair” sort of way. These guys are great. Totally polite, can eventually become friends and great people to know.

However, there are the other kind of guys. Those who are the “we broke up, please die because I never want to see you again” type of gentlemen, and they are the ones I do not want to see everywhere I go.

Mother nature has it that I bump into the second category of guys at every possible juncture almost every possible day.

One particular such individual... let us call him Schnuk, happens to be one of those “I wish you were dead” individuals. Now when we pass each other and just smile it is not exactly the end of the world.

However, there are incidents as the one I am about to describe where a young woman like me has no choice but to put her foot down and stand up for her rights of survival.

So this Schnuck was in my building visiting some friends. He sees me, and most obnoxiously asks: “What are you doing here?” I am surprised, to say the least, at this question. I mean why does Schnuck feel he has a right to make me feel uncomfortable in my own four walls. And then as I was leaving I said good bye for super politeness reasons and because I do not want to accrue any more enemies than I have already. And he, that Schnuk of a man, ignores me. You hear me? Ignores me. I mean who the Gehinom does he think he is to ignore me like that.

I stampede off in anger and head straight to the gym where I burn off so many calories that the machine cannot keep up with me anymore.

This is a disgrace. How could I let myself be spoken to in such a manner?

Because it is one thing if I have a big strong husband behind me who would beat the brains out of any person who dares look in my direction in a way that could be interpreted as offensive. It is another thing, if I am a little Jewish girl all alone in this world with no one to stand up for me.

This is it. I made my decision. I will tolerate no such behavior. And one who talks to me in such a way will have to pay for it dearly.

I must establish my borders. I must stand up when necessary and say: "Grizzly Bear, this is MY territory!"

So I call a good friend of mine in the gun business and I place an order. Okay, that was a joke.

But I awaken the bear within me and put the sweet fragile girl that I am into slumber for a little while and I do log onto facebook find that embarrassment of a person whose tzelem Elokim left him back in the day and write him a message entitled: Do Not Do That Again.

Hi Schnuk,
It seems I will be seeing you around.
Please... do not make it awkward. Do not ask me what I am doing in this neighborhood anymore and do not ignore me when I say good bye.
A nice hello and good bye would be polite and sufficient.
I appreciate your understanding.
Tania

He responded with apologies.

Tania,

For sure, my apologeeezz....sorry, didn't mean to ignore you.
All the best!

Scnuk. 

I hope he learns his lesson. Because if not, I almost feel bad for him.

A Shidduch Date: Israeli Style

Image: http://upgrd.com/

“He might not be your Bashert. But he will definitely give you something to blog about”, said a beloved person of mine as I set out on my first shidduch date with an Israeli Charedi.

The chat with the Shadchan was in itself an experience. The Shadchan tells me: “Where do you want to meet him?” Trying to be the wonderful accomodating person that I am, I said that since I am not accustomed to the Israeli style of dating, he should tell me what is accepted and I will conform. The Shadchan told me not to worry and whatever I preffered was ok. I said that in such a case I would want the young man to pick me up from where I was staying. The Shadchan almost passed out: “What? Ze lo mekubal po!” This is not accepted here. Ok, ok. Then where would you like us to meet? A certain hotel. A certain time. Any Questions? Yes, I said, is there a time limit to the date (I heard of them before). No no, says the Shadchan, whatever you like, however the conversation flows.

Great, on the night of the date, the rush rush, with the shower, make-up, hair and whole deal...I run into the hotel barely on time huffing and panting.

Here is the scene: approximately six guys in black hats scattered in random places in the lobby. One stands by the desk, the other one sits on the couch. A girl stands by the column, another by the reception. I look around. I want to go out with the guy to my right. Do I get to choose? Oh, no? Bummer.

Of course, the guy who looks most nervous that he's practically shaking walks over to me. Why is it this one? I think. I wanted that one. Never mind. I smile. The guy doesn't really speak English. That's fine. Thank G-d I speak Hebrew. Oh, he wants to practice his English on me? Sure, no problem, use me as an English tutor. On a date.

We choose a table and as we are about to sit down, this American family asks in the most accents Hebrew ever known to humanity. Can you please take a picture of us? They ask me and the guy as if we are a couple. We do the eye thing that means: will you take the picture or should I? He eyed that I should. He sat down by the table while I was busy telling the Americans to smile. I was trying to suck in my stomach as hard as I could and was hoping that his frumkeit and shmirat eynaim were at work.

I sit down at the table. He says: So, what are you looking for in a husband?

Wow. That was direct. This was probably not my soulmate. I might as well have an interesting conversation.

We spoke for awhile where he told me that eighty percent of girls can marry eighty percent of guys and that I and he are part of the eighty percent, therefore, the dating process actually is not necessary.

“Speak for yourself,” I thought. I do not belong to eighty per cent of anything.

He looks at his watch and says: “Oh my word, it's been an hour an a half! A first date has to be between forty five minutes and an hour.”

“Ah. Aaahhh! Yeah, let's get out of here! Quick....”

So he wasn't my bashert, but I did have a blog...

You Can't Take The Dirt Out Of The Flirt

Image: http://www.rogerharvey.net/

If you think that being Frum means that there is no flirting involved, you are completely wrong. There is a Frum Flirting Ettiquette.

Below are some examples and if you can think of more feel free to add in the form of comments. 

Wink Wink, I LOVE the way you Daven!

Hi, Um you look exactly what I imagined my Bashert would look like.

So, what do you think about learning a chavrutah (nudge nudge)

Excuse me, I cannot tell from your shirt, are you Modern Orthodox Machmir or Modern Yeshivish?

After a pleasant conversation…. So, I'll tell my sawyouatsinai Shadchan I saw you. 

By the way, I thought for about a year that SawYouAtSinai was started at Mount Sinai Shul in Washington Heights. Because the Mechitza is so terrible. Hey, I saw you at (Mt.) Sinai through the the gold leaves, and now I want to go out with you. It tok some genius of a prophet to fill me in and remind me of the Midrash which relates that all of us were present at the Actual Mount Sinai in the Middle East, not the one located in Washington Heights. 

When I just did not get it

Picture (http://www.dumpeddays.com/wp-images/Getting-Dumped-Lessons-Learned-From-The-Men.jpg)

Relating the experience of a friend in dating (with her permission)

This happened to me when I was still a freshman to the world of dating and I thought in my naiveté that the first guy I date will be my bashert and happiness would start then and there.

I met this guy, let us call him Yaakov. He was okay: pretty smart, decent looks, came from a nice family, he made a joke that made me laugh once in awhile. I forgot to mention the fact that he was nine years older than me. 

Our first date was a tofu date, i.e. it was pareve. I dressed up in the best of my clothes, stood in front of the mirror applying make-up for a good thirty minutes. I straightened my hair until smoke sizzled from my head. I turned off the hair iron for fear of putting off the fire alarm, I wore shoes that I could not really walk in, but they made me feel and look really feminine (wink wink). 

Yaakov picked me up and took me to the mall. Parking near Home Depot, he decided to walk into the store, hoping to access entrance to the larger mall from there. Little did he know that Home Depot is the only store in the entire mall with no entrance to the mall. We spent the first forty minutes walking around that store looking at floor tiles, shower curtains and toilet seats. Needless to say, I felt ridiculous and out of place. I should have been wearing a t-shirt and a denim skirt for such a lovely outing. When we passed a display of carpets, Yaakov asked me what color carpeting my dorm room had. I looked up at the metal tubes in the ceiling and let out a silent cry. "Get me out of here!" I begged noiselessly, "Is this what dating really is??? It is awful." As if picking up on my discomfort, he suggested we leave the store and find another way to enter the mall. What a brilliant young man… Took him only three quarters of an hour to come to his senses. 

The thing is, e wasn't a bad guy, so although the date was mediocre, I agreed to go out again, because I was told that everyone needs a second chance and one date just is not enough.

We went out again, I had a nice time. After the date, Yaakov suggested that we drop the Shadchan. I loved the fact that he was so blunt, and mistakenly thought that he wants to "get serious" with me. I was so flattered that I failed to see anything negative.

After we went out for the third time, I thought that things were getting really serious and I really should not go out with him anymore if we do not go through genetic testing, Dor Yeshorim. I told myself that I would enquire after our next date.

Our next date was okay. We walked around town. There was a slight drizzle. Besides for the fact that I was hungry and tired, I had a pleasant time.

 I am a person that is terrible with directions. After walking for about two hours, I told Yaakov that I am ready to go back. He didn't remember where he left his car, so we started walking around New York City, looking for his car, which looked identical at least to every other car I saw. So we were walking… and walking… and it started raining, and my hair started frizzing, and my feet were hurting, and I was still tired, and still hungry, and we were still walking. Finally, I found the street where Yaakov had parked the car. I was so proud of myself. So we stand by the car and we have this pleasant conversation, and I am waiting for this idiot to open the car because it is raining and I want to go home already!!!! After about twenty minutes of standing there, Yaakov says: "Just by the way, in case you were wandering, this is not my car." I was so embarrassed for judging him prematurely, and he didn't want to make me feel bad so he just didn't move for twenty minutes. I laughed out of helplessness.

Finally, we found the actual car and Yaakov drove me home. As we were approaching the destination, I asked Yaakov to pull over because I wanted to discuss something with him. I was trying to make the genetic question seem as natural as possible. Sensing my discomfort, the so sensitive Yaakov said: "If you do not want to go out with me again, I understand completely." I wanted him to know that that wasn't the case, so I said: "No, Yaakov, I would love to go out again. It is just that, well, I think we should do Dor Yeshorim."

He shifted in his seat. 

--I like you. A lot--he said

"Oh, great," I thought to myself, "so he will do Dor Yeshorim and all will be dandy."

--But-he continued-- I do not think we should go out anymore.

WHAT! I was in shock. He was dumping me. I was getting dumped. So this is what it feels like. He went on to give me advice on how I should date guys and reject everyone I meet and how I am still a great person, and how he knows the market out there, and he isn't nervous for me (well, duh! he is dumping me. Obviously, he isn't nervous for me. All I could think of was the fact that I couldn't read him at all. He gave me the opportunity to say no and I missed it.

I was devastated by the break-up. 

What fascinated me was that everyone I spoke to about this dating experience, perceived it through their own personal dating experiences. 

I called one close friend who married the first girl he ever dated as soon as it was over and burst into tears.

--It's over--I said

--What do you mean, it's over? How could it be over.

I thought of him in fascination. Wow, a person who cannot understand a relationship that does not work out.

I spoke to another friend (also a guy) who rejected every single girl he went out with.

--How are you?--he asked?

--It's over--I said

--Who ended it?

--He did.

--Well, you know--he said,--- it must be very difficult for him to end it, it can't be easy for him. 

All I could do was laugh, because I really did not have it in me to feel bad for this guy who dumped me in such disgrace.

I spoke with my friend who is extremely analytical. She wanted to be my teacher.

"It's over," she said, "well, maybe take his advice to heart. Maybe you just aren't ready." HELLO. Are you my friend or his??? 

Finally, my best friend, who I could rely on for anything ran over to me as soon as she found out about it, threw her hands around me, and called the guy every evil name that was ever muttered under the sun and told me that I would find the absolute best guy for me in the right time.

With time, I started doing the same thing to friends of mine. When people are dumped, they don't want to be questioned. They don't want to be criticized. They want to be loved.

Why the Shidduch scene is called a market

picture (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3vmHsmZQCdRXbgh5R62NVTse3m2HbM_6SC9PdxyvXoLDzxWZnB_eQzge8_49vETA0SAYLLnGEs58PLXA9zcxzcuIwPvU849RcNb8I2mCBrFO89Sxkoss_NWxnQn8F3WWsYwRkpc21UM/s400/blind_date02.png)





There is a market out there with products for sale, customers and salesmen. The sales proceed smoothly in the case that all roles are acted out properly.

Product for Sale: Girl

Salesman: Shadchan

Customer: Young man

America is the land of consumers market. It is not communist, and therefore, there must be a surplus of products for customers to choose from. That is why for each guy out there, twenty girls are lined up waiting to kiss the heels of his feet.

Products vary. Girls can be chosen dependent on their height, weight, family background, eye and hair color, intellect and qualities.

The job of the salesman is to find the young man the product his choice, i.e. his bashert. The business works like real estate, where the Shadchan gets paid on commission, every time he/she scores an engagement.

Now every young man is looking for the perfect young lady: smart, beautiful, kind, great family, lots of money….

The difficulty of the Shadchan is that the products the customers want do not exist, because girls, although they are products, are imperfect, for they are manufactured by G-d. So the Shadchan has the challenging task of convincing a guy to go out with someone who is not exactly ‘his perfect girl’.

Once the Shadchan does coerce a guy into going out with a girl because although she is 5’1, she is extremely sweet, and although she isn’t the nobel prize winner, she is definitely smart enough (to cook cholent….), and she has the looks of an amazing person (whatever that means), and her parents live extremely comfortably (in a condo with a dog), the guy agrees to go on a date, but only one date.

Then, please keep in mind, that the shidduch markets is one of the only ones selling human beings, so the Shadchan goes to the product, i.e. the girl and tells her that she must give this guy a try, because he is just one in a million.
Although the girl has been sitting by her phone for the past eighteen years, reciting tehillim, waiting for that fateful call from the Shadchan, she doesn’t want to sound too excited for the fear of Chas Veshalom sounding desperate. So she asks the Shadchan about him:

(please keep in mind that brackets include thoughts only)


--Is he smart?
--He has a great head (for a hat rack)
--Does he learn?
--He has a great head
--I understand, but does he set time to learn?
--As I told you already, he has a great head.

--Is he tall?
--I would definitely say he is taller than you (I think he reaches 5’2 with his hat on. What does she want already, for me to set her up with someone who isn’t Jewish?)
--Is he good looking?
--{Super Enthusiastic Voice} He looks extremely manly! (i.e. he is really fat, and has hair coming out from between his first and second shirt button, and hair in his nose and ears)
--Is he neat?
--Well, I was never in his room, how do you want me to know that? (Basically, he is a pig)

--Is he nice?
--He gives off a very nice impression (for the five minutes that I saw him)

--Does he have plans for supporting a family?
--You know what darling {in an irritated voice}, details you will just have to find out for yourself!


The girl is perplexed, but this definitely sounds like an amazing guy, so she agrees to go out.

The guy is so nervous before the date. The palms of his hand are covered in a cold sweat as he keeps undoing and redoing his first button, trying to understand if he should look official or cool, not that the button will really help “nerd” within him go away. He arrives by her front door ten minutes early, but since guys can’t be early, he drives around her block thirty three times and finally pulls over fifteen minutes too late.
He knocks on the door. Every minute seems like eternity. Finally, he hears footsteps. The door opens and there stands a gorgeous young girl. Young man is mesmerized.

--You are here to see my sister?—she smiles.
The young man can only nod. He has no idea what to say.
He looks toward the dining room where his date awaits him. With every ounce of strength that is left in his body, he keeps the smile pasted on his face, silently cursing himself out for not running in the other direction when the Shadchan told him that the girl he was going to date looked “healthy”, she only weighs about three hundred pounds. And her nose is just from shir hashirim, as it resembles the Babylonian tower protruding gracefully from between the girls’ eyes.

They leave the house and start talking. Life is not that bad after all and the two have a pleasant conversation. The girl is extremely spiritual, so she can look past his ugly ‘manly’ looks and appreciate his inner qualities, while the young man, well, he is still a man, and he just doesn’t feel the chemistry, and it is not because he forgot to bring a formula from the lab. So after the date, he waits twelve hours, because, after all, who calls the Shadchan immediately? It’s not like he was thinking of her or anything.

--Hi, Mrs. Shadchan, thanks for setting us up, but the girl is not for me.
--Why not? I had such a good feeling.
--Well, she was not wearing any make-up
--You know what, it’s extremely important to know a girl the way she is, without any external distractions.
--No, and she was not really my type
--But why? She is exactly what you are looking for. You think you are looking for one thing, I am telling you, what you really need for happiness in life is to marry this girl.
--Thank you, but no, although she is a wonderful person.
--And that is why I think you should go out again!
--Mrs. Shadchan. Thank you, she is not for me.
--Well, it’s your loss.


The Shadchan calls the girl with a heavy heart and informs her that it’s over. The girl breaks down in sobs because her entire future is now ruined and the man of her dreams refused to love her in response. She begs the Shadchan to tell her what she did wrong, what she should change, to no avail. The young man does not want to go out with her anymore.

That’s the saga of the shidduch date and why the shidduch scene is actually a market.