Post 70: Cinderella on Chanukah

Cinderella on Chanukah

Chanukah did not start festively at all for me this year. Unemployed, no car, no boyfriend. I even lost my friend with benefits who started to see someone else and suggested we return to being “just friends”. The timing could not be worse in Israel. Winter is the season when it’s colder inside than it is outside. To warm up, I sleep with 4 blankets, 3 stuffed animals and a partridge in a pear tree ….ooops, wrong religion…

Back to Chanukah. It started with a medical procedure that took a whole morning, drugged me out and left me completely exhausted for the entire evening. I insisted that my son go to accept his father’s invitation to light the first candle and sleep overnight. As Murphy law has it, my bed stays empty when my son is away, which is why this blog is called No Sex in the City. It just doesn’t happen when you want it to happen.

In this case, partially dehydrated and partially stoned with valium (can you be stoned with valium or only with hashish? I don’t know because I am a good girl and law-abiding person, who always stayed away from drugs except for the occasional glass of wine). I did once have laughing gas for a tooth extract. It just occurred to me that there may be some religious people taking a look at this blog, and I promised that it was “clean” with no pornography, so how did I allow drugs to creep in here?

But then again Gilit may be my pen name, but she is allowed to do things that I have not. In fact, when someone recently reminded me about Boris in Russia, I forgot that he was real. It seems that when he told me that he would no longer write to me and shut me out of his life, I wrote about him and committed him to fiction as well. Wow, he was real? He really did say that he loved me, even though my definition of love (stay tuned for a post about the meaning of love) is quite different from his. If you really love someone, you are not going to forget them even if they do not love you back.

I’ve strayed away from Chanukah, so let me go back to that first night. There I was alone, tired, dehydrated, and generally mixed up. My adoptive mother was dying in a Tel Aviv hospital (from cancer) and I knew it was a matter of days before the inevitable phone call. At 10:30 am the next morning, my cellphone rang. Now everyone knows that I am either hiking or asleep on a Saturday morning. Or else I have religious friends who don’t use the phone on Shabbat in any case. Therefore, I knew exactly why the phone was ringing. This time it wasn’t the valium or a dream, but the real thing. “Mom is gone”, Dafna announced, in a matter of fact voice.

And so began my Chanukah. I helped Dafna put up the death notices in her neighborhood. It’s good to know that the municipality gives out scotch tape together with the signs. That’s one less thing to buy before a funeral, I guess. I didn’t cry much that day and neither did Dafna. I guess we thought that her mother was still in the hospital and we’d see her soon. Or maybe in the shower. Or sneaking another cigarette in the kitchen before joining us for a cup of coffee.

On Monday I had to sign into the unemployment bureau and then meet my son on the bus on the way to the cemetery. Nice day for a funeral. Dafna’s mother was a former school principal and didn’t want children to miss school on her behalf. So she died during a school holiday. My son was not impressed. Last year he ate up all the latkes she had made and he promised to bake a batch himself to bring to the Passover seder. This year, none of us baked latkes. Dafna lit Chanukah candles and a memorial candle. Instead of buying a plant to bring to the family dinner at her house, I brought a plant to her graveside. I wanted to sing James Taylor’s “Fire and Rain” at the funeral, but there was no way I would be able to get the words out. Instead the rain spoke for itself from the sky (but spared us at the funeral) and the fire came from the candles which I continued to light each night.

Since I wasn’t sitting shiva, I was determined to find a glimmer of hope during the holiday. On Wednesday, I got another rejection from a job interview, but I wasn’t sad. Now it was all clear to me. The funeral was over. The shiva was almost over. And now I had no excuse but to get on with my life. Land that job. Find a boyfriend. Buy a new car (or get a leased one from work).

So I braved a sandstorm and met a friend in Tel Aviv who was studying makeup and used me as a guinea pig. Actually, I trusted her completely and she created a Cinderella. Even though my train got stuck (Israeli trains are NOT Swiss trains) and I had to get out of the train and take a bus home, I was determined to forget about the funeral, my unemployment, and my lack of boyfriend, and get NOTICED at a Chanukah party.

And so I did. It was unbelievable. Men who didn’t give me the time of day were asking me to dance. Women who forgot my name came across the room to talk to me. No one seemed to remember me from the year before. It didn’t matter that I was unemployed, had just been at a funeral, or didn’t have a car. What mattered was that I was now almost a blonde and that I had a personal makeup artist turn me into another person.

It felt a bit like the old days when I was an amateur actress. I was in the limelight (even literally, as I was wearing a green dress) for the evening, but at the end of the day, when the audience went home, my theatrical mask got removed and it was only me. At the end of the night, no Prince Charming rescued my slipper.

Perhaps because this writer was wearing boots.

Post 69: Historical and Religious Land of Israel: Year Round Tourist Destination

I’ve lived in Israel for more than half my life, and rarely take it for granted. I relish in the vast variety of natural, historical and religious sites that this country possesses. For those of you who don’t live here, I’d recommend checking out Flights to Tel Aviv which is a good place to visit and enjoy the beaches, night life, museums, art galleries, and dance performances. Hebrew, Arabic and English are the official languages of Israel, but you can get along with Russian, French, or Spanish. If you want to leave politics and religion behind, stay in Tel Aviv, whereas if you’re a religious and historical buff, you can spend your entire vacation in Jerusalem, a holy city for Christians, Jews, and Muslims alike. Whichever city you choose in central Israel as your home-base, you’ll be thrilled to know that the scenery changes constantly, and you can make a lot of day trips reaching scenic destinations within an hour or two by car as diverse as deserts, waterfalls (both in northern and southern Israel), pine forests (Galilee), and prehistoric caves (Carmel). You can visit the world famous Dead Sea, the lowest point on earth, or venture off the beaten track to Machtesh Ramon, a breathtaking geological formation resembling a crater. My favorite time to hike is in the spring when the wildflowers are in bloom, but there is no shortage of things to see and do, depending on your interests, no matter what time of the year you visit.

This writer has lived in Israel for more than 22 years and still has not seen it all.

* sponsored post

Post 68: Closing the blinds

Post 68: Closing the Blinds


This post is based on a story told to me by one of my single friends.

Gad recently moved out of his girlfriend's house and had not been dating in years. He wasn't signed up on any of the dating sites yet, but, as he is a man, his friends immediately started to set him up once the word was out that he was "available" again.

Gad didn't know that there were best practices for blind dates. First of all, the date, Limor, cancelled a few times before they actually met. She never sent him a picture by email...but then again neither did he, but she sounded nice enough, and he knew that he had to take the plunge. After cancelling twice, she finally called him and they set a place and time to meet, half way between their homes, at a scenic restaurant overlooking a nature reserve in northern Israel.

I already warned Gad not to base his evening around this date, because if it was good, they would be tempted to go on talking all night..and jump to things perhaps too soon and not very gentlemanly....but if it was bad, the evening would still be free, and both Gad and Limor could do something "normal" that was not a blind date.

They finally met one afternoon and Gad felt nothing. He wasn't attracted physically and the conversation did not flow. But he made the mistake of picking her up in his car and driving her home afterwards. Plus she had his home number and he had hers. He did not want to see her again and made that clear...that is, he didn't say he had a good time and did not ask her when she was free. Phew, all well's that end's well....so he thought.

The next day Gad heard strange sounds coming from his telephone while driving. "A text message", he thought, and continued driving, enjoying the new music he had downloaded. A few days later the strange sounds were emitted again, but Gad's phone was turned off, so he couldn't figure it out. Was it from the radio? His new MP3 player?

When he got home, he looked under the car seats, and sure enough, there it was. Limor's phone. He would now have to call her. The problem was that she no longer had a cellphone so coordinating the return of the phone would be difficult. He drove by her home one evening but she didn't answer her home phone. I suppose he could have dropped the phone in her mailbox, but for some reason, that didn't happen.

Although Limor had already cancelled the phone service, the actual phone was expensive, so she still wanted it back. Gad had a busy month at work and was not going to be near her city again. So Limor dropped by Gad's house one evening. Gad had his sons visiting (who were not thrilled to know that he was already dating so soon after the breakup from his recent girlfriend whom they liked very much), as well as some guests. Gad was busy with a work-related call in another room, and asked his son and guests to keep Limor entertained. Her phone was in his car, so he would have to leave his house and give the phone to her.

When Gad entered the living room, he couldn't believe his eyes. Limor suddenly was made up, her hair was dyed a different color and she had lost 5 kilos. Wrong! Limor was just as unattractive as the first time and... it gets worse. Instead of waiting patiently in the doorway or seated quietly while Gad was finished with his business, she was walking around the living room of his house (did I mention this was the FIRST time in his house?) straightening out his pictures on the wall!

Gad escorted Limor to his car as quickly as possible and gave her back her phone. This blind date ended up into a few-week long relationship that he did not plan or want.

This writer wants men to know that when it comes to getting rid of blind dates, remember that you're not always off the hook.

Post 67: Let Your Fingers Do the Walking

The Jewish new year has formally arrived. Reflecting back on this year, I realize that I definitely broke my own self-inflicted rules this year. I dated a guy who smoked. I dated a guy whose divorce wasn't yet final. I dated a guy who lived in a different country. I dated a guy with a different religion than mine. I dated a guy without children. I dated a guy with children who had never been married. I even dated a guy who claimed to have seen aliens.

If you haven't figured it out by now, I went beyond my comfort zone. Until now, my comfort zone led me to fun relationships but also to broken hearts and lots of used kleenex, not to mention extra visits to psychologists and doctors, and yes, a loss of a girlfriend who just had no patience for my adventure. I forget sometimes that is better to write than to talk, even though writing lets me change the truth and censor some of the juicy stuff.

Did you actually think that everything I wrote here was true? It's actually the stranger things here that are true. But what does it really matter? I carefully protect the identity of those real characters in these posts. I probably should be more careful of my own identity, but one day I'll reveal the truth. In this small country, it's not so hard to figure out.

After THE breakup, it was obvious to me that I wouldn't meet the love of my life immediately. I needed to play the field, meet lots of different people, and get to know myself again, or get to know myself for the first time. I've met amazing men and women - some have remained good friends while others disappointed me, or I disappointed them. There is no black and white in friendship between women or men.

But after going out on a variety of dates, I can honestly say that I'm tired of the "almost" men - the great love who smokes, the drop-dead gorgeous guy who doesn't believe in foreplay, the devoted father who doesn't really have time to see me, the fun friend who can't say he loves me cause he's waiting for that "wow" click....they're all great guys, but I want my rules back. I want a divorced guy with children, who doesn't want anymore children, is my age or younger, passionate, employed, romantic and is not afraid to say that he loves me....and lives in Israel or course....and it would definitely be an added bonus if he could carry a tune or play an instrument, as I have a weakness for musicians.

So why not fantasize? I had almost a year to get over the breakup. It's my turn now for the real thing, right? Fate had it that I couldn't meet up with my friend with benefits (that sounds SO much nicer than fuck buddy, doesn't it?) and ended up going out to a concert with a girlfriend. The women at the concert were about ten years younger than me, thinner, and many childless.....you would think that would put me at a disadvantage....at first I seemed invisible. Lots of members of the audience were couples, smiley and cuddly... no outward signs of stress from staying up all night with a teething baby or wondering what time of night their teenager will bring home their other car....or wondering how to pay the mortgage on their garden apartment in the suburbs....

and then I saw the youngest and cutest girl in the audience. She was eleven. And she had a dad. Who was alone. And acknowledged my existence. And even played the piano. There, my prince had arrived. The end to my searching...here, among all the young bachelors. "Don't talk too much Gilit. Don't talk too much. Don't ask him too many questions. Smile, but don't be pushy. Listen. Watch".

And so I did. The break was over and he got up to play. The piano. My first instrument. I waited in anticipation to see if he played as nicely as he treated his daughter. From the audience, I didn't have to worry about staring at him, as he wouldn't notice with the stage lights on and the audience lights dimmed. I could comfortably glance at him for the distance, starting with his smile, and then down to the keyboard where I could closely watch his finger-work. My mind drifted to a different form of "let your fingers do the walking" as I imagined him taking my phone number after I complimented him on his piano-playing, of our trips together with his daughter and my son, and of not having to go on a blind date again.

My eyes drifted down to his right hand and musical savvy, and then watched his left hand to see how he managed with his accompaniment.

I didn't feel so bad when the piano player did NOT ask me for my telephone number. Thanks to the stage spotlight, there it was - the finger accessory this writer hadn't noticed when the musician first sat next to his daughter - his wedding ring.

Post 66: Not Exactly Aleksandr Petrovsky

I've been writing the columns that predated this blog since 2000, and sometimes I feel as though I have played every character in the series "Sex and the City", except that I'm chubbier, poorer, and don't wear brand names, to mention a few differences.....

I met Boris in 2000, through a Jewish dating site, and traveled with him and my son a bit in Israel, when he was visiting from Russia. I knew that he was quite taken with me even then, but I did not want to have a "fling" with him in Israel. At the time, I would have gotten too attached and it would have bothered me from going out with other guys. However, we kept in touch throughout the years by email, and I was proud of him as he advanced in his career path, which I won't detail here so as to protect his privacy.

He kept inviting me to visit him in Russia and I refused for one or more of the following reasons:

1. I had a boyfriend
2. I couldn't leave my son
3. I didn't have enough vacation from work

Year after year, I repeated the same excuses until the following happened:

1. I no longer had a boyfriend
2. My son was old enough to stay overnight by himself or with friends and/or with his father
3. I was unemployed...therefore with LOTS of vacation from work.

Boris spoke and wrote excellent English and his communication was loud and clear. "We can be friends or we can have romance while you are here. Whatever you decide, I will respect you".

Great, I thought. I warned him that I snored. I thanked him for his honesty. I was glad that we cleared this up before, and I hinted that I thought we would "get along well" while we were there. I remembered that he was attracted to me and I remembered that I was indifferent - that I was not turned off, but not head over heels. Not exactly Aleksandr Petrovsky, the Carrie’s Russian boyfriend played by Mikhail Baryshnikov in the sixth season of Sex and the City.

So I flew for a week to Moscow.

I paid for the flight, but Boris insisted on paying for everything else, even if I had chosen to avoid physical contact. He met me at the airport and drove with me and a driver to his apartment. As we got out of the elevator, he told me to be quiet, so as not to wake the others. “What others?”

Turns out that Moscow is one of the most expensive cities in the world, not because of the price of food or paper goods (which I found considerably less expensive than in Tel Aviv), but because of housing. So Boris, despite being successful in his career, was waiting for his apartment in the suburbs to be completed, and in the meantime, rented a room in central Moscow. The other room was rented out to three nannies from the Ukraine.

“You didn’t tell me you had flatmates”, I told Boris.

“You didn’t ask”, he replied.

He also didn’t tell me there was no living room and no other mattress in his room. Therefore, I had no choice but to share his bed. Also, there was no blanket, despite it being about 15 degrees outside. Coming from nights of 30 degrees, I was cold! The only covering he had was a curtain. Therefore, the only way I could warm up was body heat. So one thing led to another, and before I knew it, Boris was “in love” with me and talking about a future. When I said “why can’t we enjoy the week together”, he got angry and told me that I was using him, and could not stand my behavior.

I managed to calm him down, but he acted up again a few times, and although I had a credit card, money and a cellphone, Boris wouldn’t hear of me wandering around Moscow myself. So he calmed down for a few days but then got upset again on the last night.
I did manage to enjoy my time in Moscow, despite the surprise from my friend who had promised to “respect me no matter what I decided”. I did not know that my decision to touch him made me committed to a long distance relationship with me.

He made me promise to call him immediately upon my return to Israel. I did, and sent him a follow up email, explaining again that I would help him during his visits to Israel in the future, but that my life was here (in Israel) and I wanted a boyfriend who LIVED in Israel. He didn't like my explanation, and told me to delete the pictures I had taken and not contact him ever again.

And although I don’t believe in “love at first sight/touch”, it was very moving to hear a man say he loved me, the first time in, perhaps ten years. (My last boyfriend did love me but had too many emotional problems to say it to my face. Yes, we are no longer together). On the other hand, it could have ended much worse, like with Carrie and Aleksandr - when she got upset, he slapped her. Then again, she had Mr. Big to rescue her and take her back to New York.

When a man behaves like a woman, run away….. but if you have nowhere to run to, what do you do? Maybe it’s better to travel to Europe with a girlfriend.

This writer says make sure your travel companion is straight, and make sure that the bed you’re going to sleep in is equipped with a warm, thick blanket rather than a warm, emotional man!

Post 65: Sabra attacked by a sabra

Post 65: Sabra attacked by a sabra

As most of you know, sabra is a cactus fruit found in Israel and also refers to a native-born Israeli. I'm not a sabra, since I immigrated to Israel from Canada, but both my mother and my son are sabras. When referring to male sabras, the term also alludes to, like the fruit, something/someone who is rough and tough (macho-like) on the outside but sweet on the inside.

My son could probably use a little bit of the sabra in him for his exterior, as his sensitive side shows through all too clearly in public. This has made him subject to teasing. Now that he's a teenager, it's still tough for him to be "tough", but that's what psychologists are for.....yes, I'm passing the buck, but I have an excuse. I'm not a sabra, and I'm just not that tough. I fight for my rights, but I'm still pretty nice. You won't see me in the book "Why Men Marry Bitches". Maybe that's why I'm not married.

And although I've had quite a few boyfriends, both before and after my marriage and divorce, not all of them were native-born Israelis. There have been Anglo-saxon (of all English speaking countries), South American, Russian, Israelis who lived abroad, and yes, some born and bred sabras.

A few weeks ago, I met a sabra. The mammal. Not the fruit. We clicked immediately and started a relationship,,,,,of sorts. One night he was hungry and started peeling fruit from his fridge. Startled by the noise, I woke up and he offered me some sabra fruit. I ate one or two that he had cut up for me, and then watched him devour one after the other, relishing every bite.

But he didn't use gloves! A few hours later, I found him awake again in pain, yelling, and pulling out cactus thorns from his hands.

The sabra had attacked the sabra. But this writer realized that sabras can also fight back.

Post 64: The mat and me

Post 64: The mat and me



When you go to a party or event, who are the women and men that turn heads? There are the extremely fat ones....perhaps you console yourself and think "wow, I'm not that fat" or you feel disgust "how did he let himself get so large without doing anything about it" or pity "wow, she has such a pretty face. Maybe she had to take steroids or has a thyroid problem. I bet she's a wonderful person on the inside"....then there are the "cusiot"...I really was shocked when this slang term came out in Israel for beautiful, sexy women. They used to be called simply "hatichot" (pieces) but then a particular piece of female anatomy was added to the slang. The young Israelis didn't let the word go. Instead they added a male equivalent (but still using the reference to the female vagina) and called a great looking man a "cuson". Since I haven't been living in Canada for more than 20 years, I don't know what the most updated term is. We used to call these guys "hunks".



The point is that the other type of head turners are "cusiot". And they know it. They have a slim figure, thin but not skeletal looking, and a big chest, but not out of proportion. Their hair is straight and long,, rarely curly, and their makeup is also in place. Their mascara doesn't run and their lipstick seems to stay on even after they drink coffee.. ..a walking wax doll......



If they don't smile, men won't necessarily approach them, but if they do flash a smile or two, they won't be sitting alone. Another variation is simply a tall thin woman with lots of self-confidence who simply knows that she attracts men and doesn't have to do anything except appear at a party.....but she's less of a head turner.



With the men, it doesn't operate the same way. The good looking guys may come off arrogant and the women will run the other way. But if a good looking guy appears who is also a little bit shy and modest and smiles at everyone around, the women will often fall to their feet. These guys will treat the "cusiot" the same as the chubby or obese women and the same as the short women with adult acne.



Then there are the musicians. Since I have a weakness for them, almost any guy playing an instrument (especially guitar) will allure me. All of a sudden I forget whether he is divorced, smokes, is educated, or even stable.....if he shows me some attention, I'm a goner. (I usually calm down when I do a reality check).



There are also unusual people. Some bring gimmicks - babies (their own or their nephews/nieces), cute dogs, or even a parrot. Yup, there is a guy I know who brings his parrot to parties. The parrot quietly rests on his shoulder during the evening or he lends him out to other people.



Those have you who have been reading this blog for awhile know a few things about me. I'm not a "cusit". I am not tall and thin and have curly, unkept hair. I don't smoke. I don't have a baby or a dog or a parrot. But there is one thing I have that not too many people have at these picnic gatherings I often go to....a mat!!!



In Hebrew it's called a "machtzelet" - it's those large flat rugs, made of straw-like material. It's sturdier than a blanket and great to use when you need a comfortable surface on which to sit. So if you don't like sitting on antholes and bird droppings, you will happily gravitate to a machtzelet.



When I first bought my machtzelet on sale, I didn't realize what power it would give me. I kept in my car and started bringing it to events. Wow. People started sitting next to me. If someone started to smoke, I could send them away "please smoke somewhere else. This is my machtzelet". When it was time to go, everyone had to get up, and so I was noticed, because I had to pack up the "machtzelet". If people sat in front of me, I could move closer up and move them to the back of the machtzelet, cause it was mine!



This writer doesn't need to be a 'cusit'. She has a machtzelet!

Post 63: Patience

Post 63: Patience

I want to adore you
when the smoky cloud lifts

Temptation taunts
You give me what I want

But I can't purposely lead you deeper
only to break our hearts again

So let's end before the Pandora box opens wider
We'll get what we deserve
in time.


This writer wrote this a few months when trying to avoid going out with a smoker. She got rid of one smoker only to attract another one several months later.

Post 62: Before the morning sun

I haven't written for awhile...lot going on...


You sink into me
as you snore away
I want to love you
I want to stay

Silk skin welding into one
Going to leave before the morning sun.

This writer dedicates this short post to all those lovers who live in separate houses and need to get back home to their children....and in this case, before my son wakes up in the morning...

Post 61: Attracting the Repellent

Post 61: Attracting the Repellent

Since THE breakup in November 2008, I've spent quite a few weekends going on hikes organized by volunteers from various social groups on the Internet, a sort of Israeli-Facebook mixed with Jdate. Because the hikes are free, you never know if 30 or 300 people will show up, children, singles, or both.


Now that it's getting so hot and humid in Israel, the hikes are also being held in the evening. So I headed out one Saturday evening, along with one of my girlfriends, to one of the said evening hikes. This time, much to my surprise, there were only about 30 people. I spotted a few couples in their 50s and 60s, a mother and daughter, a few girlfriends in their 50s or so, a single woman in her 20s or 30s, a few single guys in their 20s and 30s, the "leader" of the group in his 50s and his wife, and an unidentified threesome in their 30s or 40s - two men and a woman.

My friend and I concentrated on the beautiful walk, timed perfectly to view the sunset from the cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, between Tel Aviv and Haifa. I could tell it was summer because of the beads of sweat starting to drip down my back from the humidity. Confession: I was also out of shape, as I hadn't hiked for a few weeks. I spoke mainly to my girlfriend whom I hadn't seen for some time, (perhaps 24 hours!) I find it both funny and sad when I end up in such romantic spots with a woman rather than a man. I am still straight and not about to change sides in my 40s. But I can still enjoy the feeling of beauty and romance without a man. Yeah, right! Who am I kidding? Although I was pleased that the crowd was relatively small and intimate, I remembered all too well the "good" things of my three-year relationship, and one was almost the weekly hikes in the Galilee, sometimes (though obviously less towards the bitter end) hand-in-hand. My girlfriend is a cynic, a little bit like "Miranda" in Sex and the City. "If I haven't had a good relationship up to now, or when I was in my 20s, why should I attract a good relationship now?"

Although Facebook claims that I am more like Carrie Bradshaw, my attitude towards romance is closer to Charlotte York, and I know that I will meet someone again...he's out there, somewhere.

As the sun set, I didn't feel very romantic anymore. The beads of sweat on my back were replaced by the bites of mosquitoes quickly and visciously biting at my exposed skin, and even through my clothes, with insect aggressivity that I hadn't witnessed since immigrating from Canada to Israel, more than 20 years ago.

Enough of the Canadian politeness. There is no politeness when it comes to mosquitoes, regardless of their nationality. Here too I am definitely straight and prefer the male variety anytime. It's the females that bite!!! As dusk turned into dark, the mosquitoes declared war against me.

"Does anyone have mosquito repellant?" I yelled with my Anglo Saxon accent in Hebrew.

"Yes, there's a young man over there named Erez who has some".

I approached Erez who turned out to be one of the unidentified threesome. Wow, I thought, a single guy. The attractive blonde lady who was hanging out with him was actually a friend of his who came to the hike with her husband. The mosquito repellent (whose strong smell would normally repel men and women, as well as mosquitoes) gave me the excuse to talk to someone I would not have had the nerve to speak to. As liberal as Israelis claim to be, it's still not considered that acceptable for a woman to start up with a man. There are exceptions and some of you will disagree with me, but I've seen some live interactions, and the men still seem to like being the hunters and iniators. In this case, I may have started out by hunting men, but ended up hunting only a relief to my insect attacks. If men could chase after me like mosquitoes did, I wouldn't have any time to write this blog.

I seemed to have struck the jackpot. Not only did Erez have mosquito repellant but he was also divorced, close to my age (at first glance), seemingly non-smoking (although I've been disappointed on that front before) and has a few children as well. He was also employed, not bad looking and friendly. We spoke a bit about our children and some topics to do with his profession (not revealing so as not to identify him). I did wonder why the blonde woman was watching him like a hawk, considering that she was there with her husband. As a matter of fact, I wondered at first if they were brother and sister.

I introduced him to my girlfriend as well, as if to say "I found a divorced guy with kids! Finally". At the end of the evening, the threesome said good-bye, but Erez didn't ask me for my phone number. The usual scenario went through my head "too overweight; he prefers dark-skinned women; too talkative; lives too far away; prefers sabras (sabra usually refers to an Israeli citizen born in Israel) or whatever".

I checked with the Israeli blonde on the said internet site, and got the true reason - he already has a girlfriend - she just couldn't make it to the hike that evening - and she is friends of the blonde! "Didn't he say anything about her?", she asked me.

I thought to myself - perhaps he did, but I heard only what I wanted to hear...or maybe he didn't as I didn't ask. I did ask if he was a "bachelor". In any case, I met some nice people and enjoyed the hike. I didn't expect to meet someone who was dating material in the first place, although I always leave the option open.


This writer didn't find her knight in shining armor....but she was rescued, in the night, with armor against mosquitoes!

Post 60: Women in Black and the Witch Hunt

The following post has been submitted for Scribbit's May write-away-contest with the subject of spring. By coincidence, I just posted the following which is a story that took place in the spring...we're still officially in spring anyway....

Post 60: Women in Black and the Witch Hunt

This post is not about the women's organization that protests war in Israel or any other part of the world. It's about women wearing black and not standing out in the crowd. Iris Baron, a sexologist and marriage counsellor (link is to her Hebrew site) often mentions the issue of women wearing black at events, meetings, parties. etc. Many women wear black because they think it is slimming. What happens in effect is that in a room full of women, they are almost always wearing black, and therefore do not stand out in a crowd. Iris doesn't say that you have to wear 10 different colors (like I do, but that's another story) but she says if you have to wear black, break it with something else - a yellow scarf, a pink pendant, a tourquoise vest......something!

Therefore, a few months ago, I was invited to a costume party for Purim, which is a Jewish holiday that takes place in the spring. I wasn't thrilled about going to this party which would feature a loud d.j. and music that would probably not be my style, judging by the person who organized the party. I also knew that this party would attract approximately 40 women and 20 men,, with most of the men coming in couples - not with each other, but boyfriend and girlfriend. On the positive side, this group of people consists of mainly divorced women and men with children, in their 40s and 50s - a nice, friendly, huggy bunch who will be happy to greet you as if you are their best friends, even though you haven't seen them for several months. To top it off, my friend, Nili, recently separated, likes dancing and started to realize that she has to socialize in different circles than she did when she was married. Picnicking with her daughters and nieces is great family bonding but on the weekends when her daughters are with her ex husband, she started to go out to singles events as well.

So I picked up Nili at her house. She was dressed in a witch costume, totally black. I was dressed in a Mexican costume, all colored with a poncho and sombrero, and underneath it, I had on a bright green, sexy but flattering dress. I knew there were not going to be very many men at this party, but if there were, I wanted to make sure that I was noticed. After all, it was Purim. Time to celebrate, get drunk, be happy. Nili was looking forward to seeing the group of people and was actually happy that there were not going to be potential "boyfriends" as her attitude was that it takes one month to recover from each year of a relationship. Therefore, she would be "over" her marriage and ready to date in two years. In the meantime, she figured that no man would be looking at her, and so she could relax. Wearing the black, I assumed, even though she was a witch, simply added to her attitude of wanting to disappear from men.

We arrived at the party and sure enough....loud music....and I was wrong. Instead of 40 women and 20 men, there were 50 women and 10 men. Out of the 10 men, about 5 came in couples, 2 looked about 70 years old, 2 looked like Frankenstein, but didn't need a costume and one was very good looking. The good looking one walked into the living room where the dancing was taking place, and immediately starting flirting with Nili. Nili got frightened and walked away.

I didn’t like the music, so I sat in the room between the kitchen and living room where I could sit quietly and observe the witch hunt as well. The Mystery Man, (let’s call him MMM) went into the kitchen but Nili had already gone back to the living room to dance. Nili sat at the left hand side of a two-seater couch. MMM sat next to her. Nili felt that there was someone on her right but didn’t turn to face him. Instead, she sat up and turned her body 45 degrees away from him. MMM remained patiently. And so this continued all night long, until I was fed up.

“Nili, we are NOT leaving this party until you say hello to him”

Nili: But….but…but…

Gilit: No buts. You don’t have to marry him. You don’t have to sleep with him. You don’t have to date him. You just have to say hello. He has been following you around all evening and you are acting like a total snob!

We then gathered our belongings and walked into the front yard on the way to my car. MMM was already waiting for Nili. She finally said bye to him and they started to talk. I did an about face and started to talk with the first random woman I found on the balcony.

When I saw that the coast was clear and they appeared to be finished their conversation, I collected my black witch friend and walked with her back to my car. The witch was in total shock. Like magic, I saw that something small and rectangle was her palm. It was MMM’s business card, complete with credentials, phone numbers and email.

Iris’s theory about wearing black didn’t work that well this evening. For MMM, Nili was the only woman for him. And the green dress didn’t do anything for this writer except feeling green with envy. There is a book called “Why Men Marry Bitches” – I guess Witches can apply as well.

‭‮

Post 59: Deserted in the Desert

My relationship with Arie revolved around festivals during the last 3 years. We got together because of Breshit (Genesis) Festival near the Sea of Galilee. I accompanied him at several Sagol festivals on the Mediterranean Sea, and he split up with me (the first time) at Shantipi Festival near Achziv (also on the Mediterranean Sea). And at the last Sagol Festival in October, he knew I was coming to spend the weekend with him yet told another woman that he wanted to take their platonic relationship to "the next level" only hours before I was coming to be with him. When we both discovered each other's existence, Arie left the country with no one to come back to and destroyed any chance of friendship with me.

Five months later, I decided to go with a girlfriend down to the desert to the Zorba festival, between Mitpeh Ramon and Eilat. Later I found out that Arie would also be working there, but I decided that Israel is too small a country and that eventually I would run into him, so I should not let him rule my life, and do what I want to do.

So I did.....I did run into him several times at the festival but just said hello and avoided him. He had gotten a lift down to the festival with friends of his whom he managed to stop speaking to before he even arrived.

On the last day, he saw my girlfriend and I ready to leave and asked where we were going - I told him that that we were going to the center of the country, first to my friend's city, and then to mine. He said, with his puppy dog eyes, "i don't have a lift anymore and I have a long way to go." I answered "yes, it's a long way back to the Galilee. Good luck and have a good trip".

And we left.

What chutzpah. Yes, it's sad that he has no friends left, but to ask his ex girlfriend for a lift back after he had lied to her and dropped her like a hot potato after so many years without an explanation? After he had told all his friends and children about his "new girlfriend" (who promptly dumped him after hearing that he was with me simultaneously) but didn't bother to tell the new 'girlfriend' or 'me" about each other?

This writer doesn't have a boyfriend, but she has many wonderful friends in her life, and most important, has her self esteem. As for Arie, this writer deserted him in the desert.

Post 58: Walk Me to My Car (Please)

Post 58: Walk Me to My Car (Please)

Despite the recession that has also hit Israel, there seems to be a LOT of parties going on, especially this month, for the occasion of the Jewish holiday of Purim. Perhaps with the high rate of unemployment, less people have to get up for work the next day and can stay up late.

One of the Purim events I went to was a musical performance in Tel Aviv. I sat on pillows and mattresses in a room full of people, mainly single, and mostly in their thirties and forties. The atmosphere there was very intimate and I really enjoyed the performance of the singer, floutist, and guitar player. I assume there was percussion as well, although I can't recall. The performers were dressed up in Purim costumes, as were some of the members of the audience.

After the performance, some of the people there drank a little bit too much and headed by foot to grab something to eat. They were mostly single people who didn't have to get up the next morning for work. I asked one of them to walk me back to my car. A little tipsy, my friend told the woman at his side, that he was walking me home (instead of to my car). She was a bit confused, but walked with him, another women, and two other bachelor men.

I had parked my car in a lot of a garage that was deserted in the evenings, so it was rather creepy to walk back there alone. So it was kind of funny that I didn't get much of a chance to talk to people after the performance, and just at the last minute, as I had 5 escorts to my car, I had the opportunity to meet new people. One had recognized me from playing the guitar on a hike we had been on. The other was impressed by my car, which I said was not mine, but belonged to the hitech company I worked for.

This writer slept in her own bed, alone, that night, but had five people walk back to her car alone and gave her a good night hug.

No boyfriend. No problems.

I was looking for an image for this blog, because no one understood the previous one. So I found this image on http://www.zazzle.com/no_boyfriend_no_problems_tshirt-235322496976180293
and have asked them for permission. I think it's appropriate for my blog and would appreciate your comments. If the Zazzle people tell me to take it down, then I will....at least I was polite and asked them, unlike what other people do with Google Images.

For those of you more experienced bloggers, please let me know the right protocol on this.

By the way, if any of you are good in photoshop and want to do me a favor by changing the wording on the t-shirt to 'I don't want a boyfriend", then I can change the image once again!

This writer knows how to write so she will leave the expertise on graphics to her readers!

Post 57: Grown up and Homeless

Post 57: Grown up and Homeless (or "All Dressed up and Nowhere to Go")

What do you do when you live with your son and you want to meet (in private) with a man who has custody of his children? Ideally, you wait until both of your children or at your exspouse's home? But if that spouse rarely sees his/her children, it can get tricky. And what do widows and widowers do? I suppose if they have family in Israel, they can arrange to have their children stay with their parents/grandparents.

However, what do you tell your teenaged children? That you have a "sex' date? No way....that you have someone staying over in order in the guest room because he is doing some work on the apartment the next day, and wants to get an early start and miss traffic? Plumbing? Fixing the computer? Ahh, but then he should be in the guest room....and how would you explain him ending up in your own room...it's simply not an option.....ideally, when you have a "real" relationship, you can simply say "my boyfriend is staying over tonight"....but you aren't going to reach that status in one day.....you first have to date...and if you are a "Rules" girl, and don't go to bed on the first (or second, or third, or.....?) date, you still aren't going to tell your children about it....

Recently, a former "fuck buddy" of mine moved back in with his parents, temporarily, to save money. He's now dating someone, who has her own place, so he's ok, but supposing we were back together for human warmth purposes...it just would be impossible.

This writer doesn't have to face this issue anymore, but hopefully she will meet a nice guy with his own place soon, before the snow in the Golan melts.....(the Golan has absolutely nothing to do with this post, but I thought I'd throw it in anyway. The point is that the nights are still cold!)

Post 56: It's Raining Women

Post 56: It's Raining Women

The best thing that actually happened at the 'singles' workshop that I went to a few months ago was meeting a new friend whom I'll call Nili. Nili works in my neighborhood and is also full of energy and open to meeting new people and ideas, even if they aren't always fun or successful. We have been spending so much time together recently, that I've been calling her one of my "wives". I'm not planning to change my sexual preference to women, but the number of single women (both divorced or never married) in their forties is really astounding.

But we gain power and self-esteem knowing that we are not alone, and that we can have fun even in the absence of men...and to be honest, sometimes more fun, (though not the physical kind)....

I think that a lot has to do with the fact that I have been abandoned or I myself have "dropped" people from my lives....yes, it hurts at times. Some I miss more - some I do not miss at all, but in their place have entered some amazing people -men and women. I know this is corny, but I am really blessed by virtual (Web-based) and real friends...I have introduced them to each other and this has created a domino effect. "Hey, Gilit', I thought you knew a lot of people, but after meeting Nili, Sherrri, Mali, etc. etc., I realize that whomever you don't know, they know!"

To be honest, this has been fun, but also exhausting. The funny thing is that when we specifically go to events targeted to meet single men, we end up meeting more women. Or at least I do. The other night, when I was at a Purim party, the d.j. played the song "It's Raining Men".

With about 50 women and 10 men at the said party, this writer sang "It's Raining Women".

Post 55: One bar mitzvah and a funeral

Post 55: One Bar Mitzvah and a Funeral

Since THE breakup in November, 2008, I've been meeting unconventional men and women in unconventional places. Life would be just too boring if and I'd have nothing to write about, if I met conventional people in conventional places.....or if I didn't meet anyone at all....but then I would probably write about the people I encounter in movies, on TV and in books. For example, I recently finished "Eat, Pray, Love", by Elizabeth Gilbert and seriously felt that I had said goodbye to a friend when the book was finished!

After the flurry of strange men that I recently met, I retreated to a bar mitzvah, where I knew I would be spending a weekend with religious men and women, most of them married, and therefore I would be safe from close encounters of the Israeli kind.

A close friend, recently separated, sent me a text message to 'behave myself". I assured her that I would be ok. I was in a hotel near the beach, sharing a room with my son, and with a full schedule - candle lighting, shabbat dinner, breakfast, Saturday morning prayers and Torah reading, lunch, etc. etc.

My son and I arrived a few hours before the Sabbath (Shabbat) was to begin. I'm not religious, but many of the guests were, which means they had to stay overnight in order to avoid traveling from their homes to the bar mitzvah on Shabbat. It was a beautfiul day, unusually warm for February, even in Israel, and with the beach literally in the backyard of the hotel, I decided to take a walk before the festivities began.

My son was happy to stay reading the paper and watching cable television (which we do not have at home) so I head out in running shoes, a tunic and pants. No makeup. No bathing suit....just me and my extra 5 kilos.

The beach was located on a semi-isolated section of the Mediterranean Sea, with beautiful cliffs on the east, and the sea on the west. I headed north for a peaceful and leisurely walk. I passed the families with children and the thin women in bikinis. I watched the surfers in their wet suits pack up their equipment and head back to their cars. One of them said hello to me and instead of ignoring him, I smiled back and we started to talk. He chatted me up and invited himself back to the hotel, but I told him that I was sharing it with my son, and that it wouldn't be appropriate. He decided to give me his number anyway. He was thirty something and thought I was the same age. I told him that it was the first time anyone had started up with me on the beach in 20 years, and thanked him for massaging my ego. He wanted to massage something more tangible than my ego, telling me that I looked good and was sexy.

And that's when I realized that perhaps not all good looking men in their thirties are attracted to their twiggy counterparts in bathingsuits. Perhaps bored by the thin human scenery, the surfer was turned on by rounder female mammals (and I don't mean dolphins).

This writer took the surfer's phone number and returned to the hotel. She didn't spend the night with the surfer, but enjoyed the weekend. And then on Saturday night her friends' mother died. She spent Friday on a beach, Saturday in a synagogue and Sunday in a cemetary. One bar mitzvah and a funeral.

Post 54: Close Encounters of the Israeli Kind

Post 54: Close Encounters of the Israeli Kind

Until recently, my contact with aliens were residents of Israel working here illegally. I don't know a lot about science fiction. I've seen some of the more famous movies like "Close Encounters of the Third Kind", E.T. and Star Wars.

So you can imagine that I raised my eyebrow when I went to a singles workshop and met a guy who claimed to have seen aliens himself. During our first encounter, he seemed as normal (or as strange) as any other candidate that I have for dating- divorced, non-smoking, and father. When we actually had our first date, he told me about his experience channeling aliens and his therapy with them in Kadima, Israel. Without revealing his name, he is one of the people who are referred to in Adrian Dvir's book. I'll call him Benny.

The funny thing is that I was more disturbed about his disfunctional family than his encounters with aliens. There was no way that I was going to get involved with another man who did not communicate with his siblings and parents. I am seeking a partner, not a patient. I stood by my former boyfriend while he was going through therapy (only to be cheated on in the end!) and was not going to get involved again. I complained to my acupuncturist (who lives in Kadima but did not know that it had been a center for alien activity) that I am off kilter, because I continue to attract strange men into my life. She calmed me down, assuring me that perhaps I just want to help and nurture people - and it doesn't necessarily mean that I am as strange as these men.

I did succeed in saying goodbye to Benny after the first date, and recommending he see a psychologist, rather than me playing psychologist. I mean there are other guys out there, and he's not the last non-smoking divorcee on earth.

If this writer met a guy who got therapy from aliens, who knows whom she'll meet next - maybe an alien himself? Well, as long as he is divorced, educated, emotinally mature and non-smoking.

Post 53: Return of the Ex - Again

He's back. That is he's back in the country after three months abroad. In another country. On another continent. We were together for three years with a short breakup during the Second Lebanon War. During that breakup, in 2006, I left him alone, as I was told "If you love something/someone, set it free".

So I did, and he came back. I told him that if we were to get back together it would only be with counselling. Be careful what you wished for. He agreed. With the help of an amazing psychologist/relationship counsellor our communication got better, and our relationship, in some ways, got stronger. Arie also started to see his own psychologist. I knew that would either seal or break our relationship. Due to some serious childhood issues, Arie would be, as I envisioned, opening up a Pandora's box, as he began therapy. But I rationalized - would I abandon a friend, male or female, if he or she, G-d forbid, was going through physical therapy such as chemotherapy? No, I would not. And so I stood by Arie as he began his psychological therapy.
And the demons began to come out of the Pandora box. It was difficult, but I stood by him......until he decided to leave the country for a few months, and we agreed to separate. But we also agreed to maintain a sexually exclusive relationship until he boarded the plane.

Problem was that he had already decided to start a new relationship before he got on the plane. He told his children. He told his best friends. He conveniently forgot to tell his new 'girlfriend" about our sexual relationship and she thought that he no longer had a girlfriend. He also forgot to tell me about his new "love".

When I found out, several hours after his departure, I wrote to him to get out of my life. He did. When I told the "girlfriend" about me, she thanked me and allegedly cut off ties with him. He thought he could dance at two weddings, but ended up with none.

I was rather apprehensive when I looked on the calendar and realized that he was due to land last week. Our children were still in touch, so I knew more or less that he was safe and that he was returning to Israel. I also knew that there was a chance that he would call me when he returned to an empty apartment, with no girlfriend..

He called a few days ago.

This writer did not answer her cellphone when she recognized his phone number on her call display. Perhaps she is still hurt. Perhaps she is still lonely, but she has moved on. Again.

Post 52: Double Dating in the Same City

Did I ever mention that I hate blind dates? Maybe one of the reasons I stayed with my (ex) boyfriend for three years was to avoid having to go on any more blind dates. I know quite a few people who actually met their boyfriend or husband through the internet, subsequently on a blind date, and are still with the same partner today.....so I know that there is a success rate.

Looking back on all the long-term boyfriend (and one-term ex husband) that I had, I met none of them through a blind date. I met my ex husband at work (a Gulf War romance). The "rebound" relationship boyfriend was actually someone I met while I was still married. We used to hike together with another friend and my ex husband, before I was even pregnant. Shortly after my divorce, I asked my mutual friend about him - let's call him Boaz and we met him. The mutual friend did me a bit of a favor by mentioning that I was divorced, but not mentioning that I had a baby. In retrospect, he was right. At the time of my divorce, thanks to stress and breastfeeding, I weighed about 54 kilos and did not have a problem attracting men. Twelve years later and 15 kilos more, it's not as easy, and certain men still seem to think that women over 40 can stay 54 kilos throughout their lifetime.

After the rebound relationship, or perhaps during it, I met my next boyfriend. This one lasted three years or so, and we did not meet through a blind date. We met through a social networking event. I was convinced that it was a work related networking event, but he knew that it was social. I found him arrogant. He found me.....hm.m.....don't remember, attractive but....? I'll have to ask him......A few months later I was at a concert with a girlfriend and he approached me with the pretense of joining the choir we both sang with. He never did join the choir.

Years later, after many blind dates, a few flings, one speed dating event and a few parties, I met my next boyfriend on a hike with a few other friends. This relationship lasted a few months, but he was a bachelor and a Cohen, and couldn't marry a divorcee by Jewish law, among other things.

A few years later, I met my previous boyfriend at a party of a mutual friend. It was actually our boys who helped get us together.

The point of relating a quick history of these relationships is to prove that I didn't meet on a blind date. As a matter of fact, I don't think any of these past boyfriends+ one husband would've "passed" the blind date test. One smoked (originally, until he met me, although he denies that I influenced him to quit); the rebound guy was a bachelor and not interested in a divorcee with a baby (he didn't find out about the baby until he was already 'attracted' to me); the next was too arrogant (his courting powers and persistence made up for that later in time); the next another bachelor and rather shy (his kind soul and the cold of the winter+pushy friends that wanted us together made up for that) and the last one lived so far away that I would never have agreed to go on a blind date with him in the first place.

They say that woman plans and G-d laughs......and here I am many years later and met a nice guy in a park a few months ago. He smoked and was younger than me, but we had a good conversation and he suggested that I meet an older friend of his, non-smoker, also divorced with a boy in my neck of the woods.

A few months later, after my breakup was official and I felt ready to hit the "singles' scene again, I gave the park guy a call, and he made the necessary connection. Problem was that it was winter, and the weekly music evenings in the park were on hold. There was no way I could meet the new guy, "Herzl" in the park, and there wasn't really an appropriate hike in the near future. It turned out that he visited his son in one of the nearby cities at the same time that my son was at our family therapist, in the same city.

By some strange timing, I managed to meet him at a cafe for an hour at the same time that my son was at his therapist's house.....this meant it was a blind date. ....I had just finished my cataract surgery, and didn't put on any eye makeup nor was able to pluck my eyebrows, but it was dark, and maybe Herzl wouldn't notice. i hate blind dates anyway, so I thought that the best thing would be to get this over with.

As I sat down, i couldn't believe my eyes. What were the chances? In walked a woman I had only recently met at one of my extracurricular activities. She didn't live in this particular city either! And I had just met her boyfriend, so who was the guy she was with?

Her brother-in-law? Her son? It was dark, so I really couldn't tell. A few weeks later, I ran into her and she told me that she had split up with her boyfriend, and that this was a blind date!

Now what were the chances? Double dating in the same city! On a week night?

Apparently, they had about three dates. I just had the one. Herzl complimented me but I just didn't feel the same. Had I met him at a workshop, hike, party or at work, maybe I would've felt differently. He didn't call me again, so I didn't have to decide.

I'm probably still not ready.

This writer survived her first blind date in three years...but she is probably going to give the dating season a break for now...at least for the next week Tomorrow she's having breakfast with a girlfriend she hasn't seen in months...but at least it's not a blind date!

Post 51: Why is this breakup different from all other breakups?

During the Passover seder, one of the questions that the youngest child asks is "Why is this Night Different from all other Nights?" Although it's a few months before Passover, and I'm not even a religious Jew, I've been pondering that question regarding being back in the "singles" scene following my recent breakup.

Can I still call it recent? It's been more than two months. When is it right to be dating again ? There are all sorts of theories about this. One theory says that you need one month for every year you've been going out. So since I went out with my (now) ex-boyfriend for 3 years, that would mean three months, which is coming up soon.

However, if I saw him only once a week during the last three years, does that give me less time, or more time? And we had a breakup during those three years of two months, so how do you account for that?

Like all rules, they are good to have as a basis but there is always an exception to the rule....and it's pretty easy to break most rules, unless you are very religious person....and even then you can sometimes there are exceptions to rules, if that religious person consults with his or her rabbi, priest, guru, spiritual leader, etc.

So if we all agree that it's ok that I've gone back to dating, what is DIFFERENT this time around? To be honest, it's a pain; an unpleasant deja vu. I'm not really into blind dates right now, but I do try to combine meeting new men with activities that I like. For example, if I know about an organized hike that a lot of people are going on, then I might invite someone that I have been in touch with on the internet to join. In that way, I am not "stuck" with him and he is not "stuck" with me. We are both free to meet other people during the hike.

The other day, a non-smoking divorced man with a very nice internet profile and nice voice, called me up and told me about a party that he was going to. He had already seen my picture on the internet, but I couldn't really see his, as he only revealed his head and nose....Anyway, I would assume that if a man calls you up and tells you about a party, he is giving you the opportunity to meet him there. If he didn't want to meet you, he wouldn't call you up specially on the night of the party and tell you about it, right?

That sounds logical, but I have been in Israel for over 20 years, and should know by now that there is NOTHING logical about Israel. Without going into a political narrative and scare you away, this lack of logic extends itself to dating and other areas....

So I wasn't going to show up to this party, being a bad dancer to begin with. I am much more comfortable in a party where people are playing music and singing, or on a hike in the nature, than watching middle aged men and women dance in an empty garage, with no opportunity to even hear the person beside you.

Things have improved in Israel whereas there is far less smoking inside the dance clubs (there is no smoking allowed officially, but I don't know what is happening in Tel Aviv; I have trouble believing this is enforced). This is great for avid non-smokers such as myself. The disadvantage is that if you actually want to hear anyone speak, you need to go outside, and that is exactly where all the smokers are.

I did go to the party that my potential new man in my life suggested. On the phone, he sounded so sweet and had a few things going for him: divorced, non-smoking, employed, has kids (read: doesn't want more as he's paying enough child support already); doesn't like dancing, loves nature, cuddling, kissing for hours.....I thought that if he made the effort to call me and tell me about the party, I should make the effort to at least show up, particularly as the party was only a 10 minute drive or so from my home.

So Mr. Potential met me at the entrance to the party, (along with his relatives and a few people that had driven with him). He admitted, once we were inside, that he wasn't much of a dancer anyway. Great, I thought....and then after a drink or so, he disappeared.

I danced a bit but then decided to look for him, as I really did want to get the opportunity to know him a bit better. But he wasn't at the bar, and it seemed a bit long for him to have been in the toilet, so I went outside.

Mr. "no, I don't smoke" was sitting and chatting with another woman (whom he didn't arrive with), both of them SMOKING CIGARETTES!!!

When I confronted him, he said "well, I'm corrupt. I do smoke at events like these". My friends asked if I was upset that he was chatting with another woman (obviously he didn't like the way I looked once he saw me in person......or preferred the smell of the cigarettes to the smell of my freshly washed hair and body). They told me (a recurring voice, after being in this country for so long. "You are still too anglo-saxon and you expect people to behave as nicely and honestly as you do....but they don't) (Ironically, I am divorced from an 'Anglo Saxon" so that doesn't mean that marrying or dating another Anglo Saxon is a key to a good relationship)....

But I wasn't upset (ok, maybe a bit!) that he spoke to another woman, as this wasn't an official "date". What upset me was that he lied about the smoking! Feeling rather foolish, I went home and crossed the man off my mental "potential new boyfriend list". The fact that he didn't reveal his whole face in the picture perhaps should have been a hint to me that he wasn't honest about other things he had told me.

And thank goodness, I didn't even have to go on a "date" with him to find this out, or uncover dishonesty after a three year relationship.

Not being religious, I still have to say that G-d did me a favor. If I hadn't made the effort to meet him that night, I might still have been fantasizing about meeting him in the future....

So what's different about the disappointments now as opposed to three years ago?

The difference is today I realize that I am the lucky one, and it is the loss of the guy who 'rejects' me or "lies to me". He is only giving the green light for the next guy that G-d or fate decides to flaunt in my path (or on my screen). And due to lots of therapy and work on my self esteem, I no longer take this as something personal. Rather, I say "next".

But the other thing that is interesting is that while I haven't yet learned to 'detach myself from the wanting", as I wrote about in my previous post, I do realize that if I keep attracting these problematic men into my life, it means that it's not my time yet. I haven't healed yet....or the next boyfriend simply hasn't broken up from his present girlfriend yet.

There are plenty of men out there who find me attractive, intelligent, sexy, and everything else that I believe I am....sometimes I simply do not feel the same about them...and other times it is reciprocal, but it doesn't work out for more technical reasons like geographical distance.

What's different this time around, is that I don't feel guilty for trying, because I know that my time will come soon, but the fact that I can still get excited, romantic, fantasize, or just get giggly as a teenager means that I still have the capacity to love, more cynically and apprehensively, yes, but it's there. The girl-woman is still here, not the figure of the girl, but the passion of the woman combined with the romanticism of the girl.

The nights are still cold. The apartments here still are not heated that well. And going to sleep reading a good book and hugging the blankets is STILL not the same as a boyfriend....no matter how much I have tried to convince you otherwise!

So the war is over (for now). The flowers are blooming (just started). The men coming my way are still rather messed up (for now)...which means that I must also be a bit messed up (for now).

That being said, this writer should be cynical and bitter, but she knows how to hike in the rain, and laugh in the middle of a war. It might not be her stop just yet on the road to emotional ride to recovery from the breakup, but she can enjoy the scenery on the ride, while it lasts.

Post 50: Detach Yourself from the Wanting

created in the present, January, 2009

"Detach Yourself from the Wanting", my sister in Canada told me. Easy to say, I thought, after coming out of a three year relationship which I haven't written much about here, because this blog is about NO SEX IN THE CITY....and since I actually had sex during the past three years, I will eventually revisit the three-year era, but not when I am still recovering...healing....

I realized a few weeks ago that it enough was enough. I don't miss the ex, but I miss the GOOD parts of the relationship, which means the sex, the hugging, the kissing, the warmth. And I do NOT like being back in the singles "market", although sometimes it's nice....kind of like being in the produce section of the supermarket - so many fruit and vegetables - some are damaged, some have food coloring, some are paler, and some just melt into your hands....only problem is that I am a fire sign.....never believed much in horoscopes, but I spent the last 3 years with a guy whose birthday falls 2 days before mine...fire and fire....and it was....

And being a fire sign, it's annoying to have to go back to the "Rules" (read the books - there are Rules I and Rules II - i should be a good girl and put the links in to the websites for these books, but it's late at night, and so I am not following the proper blog etiquette - is there blog etiquette???) The other thing is that I am recovering from cataract surgery.

"Aren't you too young to be having cataract surgery?"

Answer: No

The question should be : "Do young people get cataract surgery?"

Answer: Yes

Next question I have got asked recently:

"Why don't you have wrinkles?"

Answer: I don't know, but I have cataracts,. Want to switch?

So this eye surgery had an interesting effect on me. On the one hand, I got to do a lot of walking and lost some weight, not being able to drive for a week.

On the other hand, I was CURFEWED. I am not religious and there is no public transportation on the sabbath in Israel, so I couldn't hike (and risk getting dust in my eye) and I couldn't drive. And there was one guy I knew whose children were at their mother's home this weekend....but

a. he wouldn't be able to kiss me on one side of my face
b. I couldn't drive to his place
c. he couldn't drive to my place since there was no way that I was going to introduce him to my son, giving that he was NOT going to end up being my boyfriend

So he stayed my imaginary boyfriend...back I go to the beginning of this blog, back to the year 2000 when I first thought of printing my T-shirt "I don't want a boyfriend".

My new technique to avoid blind dates, is to meet someone through the internet or through a friend and then invite him to a hike. This way, if we don't get on, we still get to enjoy the hike and meet other people at the same time....and I don't have to sit in yet another coffee house with the same ridiculous questions:

1. Why did you move to Israel?
Desired but unstated answer: Would you like to live in -40 degrees?
2. Which is better, Israel or Canada?
Desired but unstated answer: Depends - which do you prefer, missiles, terrorists, or drive by shootings.
3. Why do you still have an accent in Hebrew?
Desired but unstated answer: 'Cause I wasn't born here. Why do you have an accent in English?
4. What, you don't have ANY family in Israel?
Desired but unstated answer: No, I said that I immigrated by myself. Do you want to date me or my family?
5. Does your son see his father?
Desired but unstated answer: Not a lot, so if you ever want to meet in private, it will have to be at your place
6. What do you mean.....why doesn't he see him?
Desired but unstated answer I'll give you his phone number (my ex husband) - you can ask him.
7. Do you know that you are really nice and empathetic? Has anyone told you that?
Desired but unstated answer: You haven't seen me in the morning. And that's why we are in a dimly lit coffee shop.

I think I'll continue with this list in future posts...this is fun.

Seriously though, I actually had a blind date today. Since my eye isn't completely healed yet, I didn't wear eye makeup and I'm not allowed to pluck my eyebrows...so I just hope he doesn't notice...and I don't think he did.

My sister told me to detach myself from the wanting...but it's not a blind date that I want, but something greater, the return of fire with fire, warmth with warmth, fun with fun, and hugs and kisses that really mean something mutual, not a motion to lead to sex, but of true mutual compassion.

Will this writer get a second date? And does she even want one? She thinks her next date will be with the eye surgeon who can really see things as they are.....

Post 49: The Finish Line: the end to love and peace

This post has been written as a submission to Scribbit's January (2009) "Write-Away contest".

My three year love came to an end just as the most recent Hamas vs. Israel war began.

The words "The Finish Line" bring to mind a race or a marathon, something that requires a lot of training and energy but then ends, one way or another. The participants in a race clearly know where the finish line is marked, but they don't know who is going to be first in line or what time it will take to get the winner there.

But the Finish Line in love and war is less clear. I supposed I knew that my last relationship would end, but I didn't know when, and I didn't know how. The Finish Line in my case was a plane ticket. My boyfriend of 3 years decided to take a break from Israel and travel abroad. I knew that the date he was set to play would mark a separation in our relationship. What I didn't know was that it would be finished completely when I discovered, the day that he flew, that he had started a different relationship with someone else. Well, that was the Finish Line for that relationship. I confronted the woman, who did not know about me, and she actually thanked me for disclosing his disloyalty, that she didn't know about it. Now Mr. formerly wonderful has no one to return to - neither of us want a dishonest person in our lives....

So I moved on, past the Finish Line of this relationship.

And then the "ceasefire" between Hamas and Israel ended. Sad thing was it wasn't a ceasefire to begin with due to all the missiles falling on southern Israel for the past few years, but when it officially ended, its "Finish Line" became in fact the beginning of a war. More missiles, longer range, more extensive damage. Israel's Defense Army (IDF), being just that, a defense army felt that they could not sit still and leave its citizens undefended any longer against the missiles and therefore fought back with air and ground forces.

I really hope that the deadline for this contest is also the Finish Line for the suffering on both ends and that the Start Line will begin: beginnings for peace; beginnings for love and new, honest relationships....

But who am I kidding. I'm a single (divorced) mom living in Israel. New love for me? Maybe. End to the Hamas-Israel conflict? I doubt it. My 14 year old teenager Finishing His Homework.? Impossible.

This writer thinks that world peace is a more realistic Finish Line than a new boyfriend or a gifted teenager learning to finish his homework.

Post 48: Let the Sun Shine Despite the Missiles in the South

time: the present, January, 2009

I wanted to cover the last 3 years, but have been overwhelmed by the present. I go to work. My son goes to school. I meet new people and savor the sunshine in a forest after a week of very much needed rain.

But in the south of Israel, missiles fall - not just in the south, but in the center. I can't write political commentary any better than professional political commentators, so I'm not going to comment, just observe that

Life goes on in the center of Israel. It's sad. We all want the violence to end on both sides. But after six eight years of rockets in the south while the world stayed silent......I really don't know what to say.

So let me tell you that the winter nights are cold, (for Israel). I feel for my friend whose son is a soldier. My son will also be one in a few years, but right now I am more worried that he didn't study for his biology test tomorrow.


I was on a hike today with such warm people. I wished that the international media could zoom on in these people, hiking, respecting nature, relishing the winter pools which are so rarely full of water, and forgetting about the terror, the bloodshed and the tears.

I hope that I will not have to write more about terrorists, missiles and sorrow.

This writer would rather write about NO SEX and hope that soon she will be writing about NO MISSILEs.