Post 15: No Sex When There's a Nice Ex

originally created as Column Fifteen, November 2000

Lately I speak to a lot of divorced men who are on excellent terms with their ex-wives. I mean, it’s great to hear about this, and I’ve even see it, in all places at a synagogue, where an object of my affection, (a potential boyfriend who unfortunately does not seem to be interested in me) still sits next to his ex-wife, as well as next to their three gorgeous children. But it seems that one guy I met at a wedding last month spoke very highly of his joint custody relations with his ex wife and how well they get along. It turns out that she apparently dumped him suddenly and it was not he who ditched her. Having been “ditched” myself I find it hard to believe that the injured party can so easily bounce back and have “friendly” relations with the deserter. Not that my ex was not feeling hurt and vulnerable before his affair (or else why would it have happened if he felt good about his marriage) but I am getting a little suspicious about all these wonderful “ex” relationships. If they get along so well divorced, why are they not still together, or if they are in separate households, but now get along, isn’t there a risk that they could get back together? So it looks like there won’t be any sex for awhile with these model fathers and exes. The ones who avoid the subject or who actually admit not being on great terms are most likely to get along with me. Which is too bad, as I’m careful not to badmouth my ex around new friends, especially male friends, and yet maybe I am just more jealous of their relationships with their ex-wives than I am sad about the fact that they are not interested in me. Well, maybe I need to set up their ex-wives first before they can move on. But one of them already has an ex wife who is living with someone else, so how can you explain that? Maybe I simply need to meet the ex wife and get some pointers?

This writer is tired of being an ex-wife, ex-girlfriend, and will be happy to have a boyfriend again (or at least a third date) before she is ex-thirty something.

Post 14: Sorry Vegetarians - the Chicken Wins

originally created as Column Fourteen, November 2000

Sorry Vegetarians – the Chicken Wins

I don’t know if I am a feminist, a post-feminist or just plain feminine, but I have never taken an interest in cooking. I did learn to mix some ingredients in a blender when my son took an interest in solid foods, but he was six months at the time and now he is six years old. I have always been blessed with boyfriends, husbands, or nannies/au-pairs who cooked. I survived dinner parties by making fruit salad, and if I did invite friends over for dinner I either heated up pre-prepared food or my friends felt so sorry for me that they ended up cooking.

Recently I took ill and my mother flew into Israel for a month to help take care of my son and me. I was on a very restrictive diet and one of the few things I was allowed to eat was chicken soup. So my mother made me promise to learn how to make chicken soup so that she could fly back to her home across the Atlantic without any guilt that her daughter would starve to death. I was thus forced to learn how to make chicken soup. By the time she left I was attacked by frozen chicken jumping out of the freezer and cut by raw onions – yes, by the onion, not even the knife.

Word got out slowly but surely that I knew how to make good chicken soup. Before I knew it I was invited to dinner parties and asked to bring chicken soup instead of fruit salad and even my ex-boyfriend showed up three hours late instead of his usual five hours late for dinner (I gave him chicken soup in exchange for some electrical and computer assistance – it helps having a computer whiz and ex engineer/journalist as an ex boyfriend). I am beginning to think that I might actually get a new boyfriend soon if he finds out that I can make chicken soup. I know that in this world of feminism or post feminism, one shouldn’t admit that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I have a friend who has been married for over 13 years to a man who is as different from her as fruit salad is from chicken soup, and until I was forced to make chicken soup I did not understand what prevented them from getting divorced. Then it dawned on me recently that chickens are either marriage counsellors, aphrodisiacs, or peace negotiators. Yes, they might be dead, but do their children know the truth? Everytime I call this particular friend she is either preparing chicken, buying chicken or eating dinner (chicken!)

I have lot of friends who are vegetarian and they are still married, but apparently their sex drives are similar and so they don’t have to worry about chicken soup (although this particular friend makes lentil soup, pea soup, vegetarian lasagna and a fortune of other assorted vegetarian dishes). I still dislike cooking and would rather be doing dishes anytime, but sorry to tell you vegetarians, in the chicken and egg contest, looks like the chicken wins.

This writer is going to sleep alone tonight but she has chicken soup in her freezer.

Post 13: Are you Selling Your Car?

originally created as Column 13, November, 2000



Every so often it happens that my car suddenly increases its market value. I’ve been driving it for 10 years and intend to drive it until it dies. It has significantly broken down before I’ve had a blind date. A sane person would cancel her blind date and take care of her car, but I saw it as an omen and left my car overnight to wait for the tow truck and went on the blind date anyway. It turned out to be a very successful blind date that ended up being a few month relationship and I even got taken abroad by this man. And to think that if I had given in to the mechanical calls of my car, I never would have met this guy.

Since our relationship faded out, I haven’t had a boyfriend in months, let alone a third date. My car is soon due for its six-month tune-up, so maybe it is a sign I will meet a new man soon, and maybe send my imaginary boyfriend on a vacation. So why has my car increased its market value? It seems that certain men ask me if I am selling my car in order to start up with me. It happened today, just as I was feeling really lousy, had no make-up on and was extremely tired. Perhaps he thought I was wearing my “I don’t want a boyfriend” t-shirt, because the man who wanted to buy my car actually wanted to meet me. He was 48 going on 58 (that’s how old he looked) and simply unattractive. But I was so flattered that someone actually paid attention to my car and me that I agreed to take his phone number.


I sometimes fix up my friends if I meet a potentially suitable guy, so you never know. It turned out that he was divorced, non-smoker, with three grown children. This might not be the time of year for me to meet a new boyfriend, but it’s encouraging to know that I can sell my car. Or maybe it’s time to get a pet. I hear it’s easy to strike up a conversation with other pet owners. My car made it up the hills to Jerusalem last week but it’s still an uphill battle with the search for love and affection beyond self-love. No sex in this city tonight!



Today this writer’s nail polish matched the color of her car - perfectly. She can match her nail polish to her car but lately she can’t find a match of the opposite sex.

Post 12: Imaginary Boyfriend

originally created as Column Twelve, November, 2000

Imaginary Boyfriend


I have had a really great boyfriend for the past year. He’s always available to join me as a date for a wedding or other social event where “couples” are called for. He’s a great partner in a hotel bed, and doesn’t steal my blanket. He’s a great listener and a respectable male role model for my son. He sits in the front seat of my car next to me. He doesn’t make comments about my driving, and he doesn’t object when I stop and ask someone for directions. He doesn’t drop socks in my living room, or leave dishes in my kitchen sink. He is never late and he never forgets my birthday.

The problem is that he is fictitious, but at least he doesn’t complain that I am using him. At least I know that when there is no sex in the city and no real dates, there is always my imaginary boyfriend. Now, if I could just get him to pay some child support, he’d be even better than an ex husband! My brother says that children are just expensive house pets, so what’s a boyfriend?

This writer has been accused of being a relationship addict. What nonsense! She never thinks about boyfriends. She never invents boyfriends. She never fantasizes about boyfriends, and she never, ever writes about boyfriends.