Post 23: Transitions

orginally created as Column Twenty-Three, February, 2001


Post 23: Transitions
Since I am seeking new employment, finding a boyfriend concerns me much less and I have gone back to the old habit of sleeping with a good friend on a transitional/temporary basis. Luckily the timing has been convenient as we seem to be between boyfriends/girlfriends at the same time! (Don’t worry - safe sex is being practiced at all times).

I was in a transitional period after my last job and it seemed to attract men to me. Again, I project that I am not looking for a boyfriend, even without my t-shirt “I don’t want a boyfriend”. The problem is that I am too aware of this transitional stage and am having trouble taking this in stride.

I know that when I find a job, the attention will phase out and it’s a lot more important to me to find the right match with a job than the right match with a man. Like Samantha in the series “Sex in the City”, I feel a bit like I am “recycling” men from earlier in my life, but it feels a lot safer and comfortable than treading unexplored territory.

I have enough “blind dates” lined up in the way of job interviews, so I have no energy to go on blind dates with potential boyfriends. I would never dream of dating married men and now I find myself spending a lot of time behind closed doors with married men (and women). I sit relaxed as they are pondering not when they can go to bed with me, but how much I am going to cost their budget, and will it be worth it to them?

There is not too much difference in the basics – dress professionally, not provocatively, make sure hair, nails and shoes are clean, be aware of body language on both sides. Don’t say bad things about your ex boss and don’t say bad things about your ex spouse. Maintain a sense of humor but don’t give out too much information – not on the first date and not on the first interview. If you are laid off a job in Israel after working for at least six months, you are eligible, in most cases for unemployment insurance. If you get dumped by a boyfriend after six months, you should be eligible for “uncouple” insurance. But then that would mean, you should pay him compensation if you break up with him after six months – (“take some money and just get out of my life”).

This writer is in a professional and personal transition period.

Post 22: One Door Closes, Two Doors Open

originally created as column 22, January, 2001


In Post 11, one of my earlier posts entitled "The Career Change" I wrote: " Some people change jobs for the opportunity to earn a higher salary, work closer to home, work longer or shorter hours, change careers completely, have less or more responsibility." I changed jobs a few years ago to meet men and to get inspiration for this post.

This week I was laid off - my job in my contract is not being renewed. So I have already begun my job search, and within two days was made an offer. As I am still in the negotiating process I am still sending off my resumes to various companies and individuals. Some of these “individuals” are men that I dated. One man had actually gone back to his ex-wife and we never really went out on a formal date. Another was interested in me, but I was not interested in him, and a third recently suffered a death in his family and wasn’t quite ready to date. What all these men have in common, however, is that they all work in hi-tech. When I called them up, I could hear the reservations in their voices, until I told them that I was calling them on a professional basis. They seemed relieved that I didn’t want to date them (especially the one who moved back in with his ex-wife) and gave me, without hesitation their e-mail addresses. As I pushed the right buttons on my computer and attached my c.v., I realized that while I used to look for jobs in order to meet men, I have really been looking for men in order to get jobs. So do not despair, single women out there. Meeting or speaking to a new man might not enable you to go shopping for a wedding gown, but you might make important connections if you find yourself wanting or needing to find a new job. To take this even further, you might not need a job, but assistance in other aspects of life. I have been lucky to have dated a police officer, a manager of a certain department of a particular municipality, a lawyer, a manager at a major telecommunications company, a child psychologist and an accountant! This country is simply too small, so I am not naming names or institutions.

This writer is lucky not to have dated anyone who works in the income tax authorities office.

Post 21: Getting it Over With

originally created as Column Twenty-One, January, 2001

Post 21: Getting it Over With – Having Sex with a Platonic Friend

Can it be done? Does it ruin the friendship? I had a friend, Gadi who I was crazy about for years. A male friend of course. But when he was interested in me, I wasn’t available and vice versa. When I got divorced, Gadi was in the country and available and I thought – at last, my chance.

So I wore the sexiest dress I could find and even got a little drunk, something I rarely do, but he was worried that I would fall in love with him, and that it was too soon after my divorce and so he let me kiss him but would not go to bed with me.

Another few years past and one fateful night when we had come back from a night out with a group of friends, Gadi’s car was parked near my place and he had to go back to my house to pick up his car, and once again I was wearing a sexy dress (not the same one as during the first attempt - I don’t keep Monica Lewinsky style stained dresses hanging in the closet for months). I thought I might seduce one of the guys in our group of friends. (You may have noticed that I’m not great at seduction although men start up with my female friends. I go to the hairdresser and cosmetician to try to look put together and the men run straight to my girlfriends! Must be my expert manicure – my nail polish shining the way directly to the woman sitting beside me). So my seduction attempts did not succeed (I didn’t really attempt, even though I may have fantasized about it) and Gadi and I both found ourselves driving home together. It was understood that we do NOT sleep together, that we had been friends for over 12 years already, and that we would not ruin our friendship with doing something silly like sleeping together. Only that night he was particularly lonely and curious and this time he decided he would take the chance. I did not resist. What he didn’t bargain for is that it would be so emotionally intense, and so in the morning, after eating breakfast together, he said that it was nice but we should leave it as a nice memory and continue being friends.

It happened once again, after a party we once went to for one of the national holidays, only this time he had been drinking, and it didn’t match the emotional intensity of the first time.
So I realized it is sometimes better to get things over with and that you can go back to being good friends if the basis for friendship is there in the first place.

I thought that I could do it again with a man that I met five years ago. Don and I were friends for almost eight months and we were both sleeping with other people (in the days that I used to have sex). I thought that once again I could “get it over with” once or twice and that’s it. I was sure that it would be a disaster. The problem is that we didn’t get it over with. It ended up to be a relationship that lasted three years. Gadi and I had managed to “get it over with” so I thought the same thing would occur with Don. Don and I eventually split up (twice!) over many issues but he’s never let me say “let’s get it over with” without a sarcastic chuckle.

Since this writer doesn’t really want a boyfriend at the moment, she has nothing to get OVER but can get ON with her life. Anyone want to join her for an exciting weekend of filing personal paperwork and ironing half a wardrobe? Maybe those sexy dresses are lying somewhere buried beneath the pathetic pile.

Post 20: Window of No Opportunity

Post 20: Window of No Opportunity

originally created as Column Twenty, November, 2000


It happened. I made it past the third date. We set a fourth date. Friday night and both of us had the same weekend “free”, my son being with his father for the weekend and his daughter being with her mother. Amazing. A window of opportunity and not having to worry about blind dates or whether we like each other or not. We do. We’ve made it through the first, second, and third dates. So he’s supposed to call and we are supposed to go out in his area. I wanted a nice responsible guy who has friends and not just female friends...so what happens. ... a very close friend has an argument with HIS girlfriend and shows up on his doorstep.

So he’s in a dilemma – leave his friend in a bad state or go out with me. I don’t want him to go out with me if his mind is too concerned with his friend and would rather his heart and soul be with me, .so I’m impressed. This guy comes through for his friends, and I take out my contact lenses and go to sleep. Only problem is that it is rainy and cold, and this is the opportunity to spend a night, and maybe even have sex with someone I respect and who respects me. He’s such a good guy, I’ve missed my opportunity and once again come to terms with the fact that I will spend the thunderstorm alone in my bed.

Another night and the same affirmation - no sex in the city for this writer. But then, he calls. The friend has gone home. Where could the friend have gone? Back to his girlfriend. Guys in cars. Going away. Going away fast........potential girlfriend gets in car. Drives north. Drives north fast. Where is this girl going? To the man. What will she do when she gets to the apartment? Will she stay there all night. Men at work. Work men work. Men at play. Play men play......and so a romantic night. Great kissing. Great sound and light show. (It was thundering and lightning throughout the night). Satisfying sex and promises of friendship and talking and seeing each other again. A repeat performance definitely in order. So we promise......and I never hear from him again.............

I might have waited 20 dates. I might have waited four. I might have waited until he would surprise me at my door. But what for? Another one bites the dust. I went and said the boyfriend word. I know it sounds absurd. When I’m upset, I write in Dr. Seuss inspired rhymes. One guy . Two Guy. Red Guy. Blue Guy. This one drives a little car. This one lives a little far. My, what a lot of guys there are....but there’s the one who won’t be scared. Who will let me kiss with the passion that I have and not run away.....I’m not talking about moving in. And I don’t want to change his life. But there was a cold wind blowing the stars around, and I really wanted to see him that night.

We could’ve gone walking in a windy park. Take a walk along the beach. Stay at home and watch tv. You see it really didn’t matter much to me. I was thinking maybe later on we could get together for awhile. It’s been such a long time and I really did miss his smile......but.....no more quoting stupid love songs. It’s a bummer that I started to trust again......and next time I just will take out my t-shirt and remind them.... I don’t want a boyfriend. Really I don’t.

So don’t get excited. Don’t be misled. This writer doesn’t not have a boyfriend, but at least she got to bed...

The Wonder Woman Alarm Clock

The Wonder Woman Alarm Clock


Following is my submission to Scribbit's July Write-away contest.

I was uninspired. With all those amazing women out there writing about their abilities to juggle family, work, and themselves, how could I possibly come up with an original idea? We all know there is nothing really new under the sun, and it's not what you say but how you say it.and in some cases, it doesn't matter what is said, but who says it.

When I'm at work, I think about home. When I'm home, I think about work.

I'm supposed to meet a deadline regarding an important press release when I realize that the deadline for the Scribbit "Write-away" contest is July 16th? How did that creep up so quickly? Now what's more important, the Scribbit contest, while I might get readers to look at my blog of postings written BB (before blogs)eight years ago, or meeting the deadline for a company that actually pays my salary? Either it's the summer heat,onset of adult ADD or something else, but my mind is wandering all over the place - Wander as opposed to Wonder Woman?

I really thought I lost all my marbles this morning when my bed started to shake at 6:35 am and I went back to sleep, convinced that I was having a bad dream.

When I did wake up later (at 8:00 am), I heard on the news that there had been an earthquake in near the Greek Island of Rhodes that measured 6.8 on the Richter scale and was felt in Israel at 6:35 a.m., mainly in the northern and central parts of the country.

This writer lives in the central part of Israel! She isn't Wonder Woman. She may be Wander Woman. But what is true, she did find the most powerful alarm clock in the world this morning!

Post 19: Compatibility of Divorcees

originally created as Column Nineteen, November, 2000

Compatibility of Divorcees

Once upon a time, men and women decided they were compatible based on education, values, physical attraction, family background and at one time when women’s earning ability was lower than today, a man’s ability to support his wife. In the twenty-first century, additional factors play a part in the compatibility of a particular partner. Let's see how much this dating business can really cost either one of us:

Does he have e-mail? If he doesn’t, how am I going to contact him in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep and don’t want to wake him up? Or if he wants to send me a power point presentation about how much he’ll miss me while he’s on a month business trip abroad.

Does he have a cellphone, and is it the same phone company that I use? Calls within the same mobile phone exchange are cheaper than to a different company. The money he will save on phone calls can go to treat me on a date (or bring me flowers some fictitious Friday night in the future).

Does he have custody of his child/ren on the same weekend that I do? If not, the possibility of ever getting together on weekends becomes increasingly difficult, until one of our ex-spouses agrees to switch the weekends. In the meantime, the babysitters can get very rich and our children very lonely and angry. The latter result is one I really recommend avoiding. I presently have three divorced male friends who are finally free the same weekends as I am, but we are not dating, so this wonderful coincidence is simply a wasted opportunity.

Even though they will have very little in common, this writer might prefer dating technologically-challenged bachelors who still remember how to use a public telephone.

Post 18: New Age Lover

Post 18: New Age Lover
originally created as column 18, November, 2000

Dafna poses the following two questions to the men she dates: Do you like cats? How do you feel about your mother? If the man in question hesitates on both accounts, he is out of the picture. Needless to say, Dafna doesn’t date as much as she used to.

Dafna spent a few months in the U.S this year visiting friends and family and trying to raise some funds for one of her business projects. She became very fond of Mark, and Mark was crazy about her. “Like, that’s so great”, he used to say about almost anything. Mark was very wealthy but lived like a hippie. Dafna considered herself fairly into new age associated subjects such as natural medicine, mysticism and yoga. But even she had her limits.

And although Mark showed serious intentions of investing in Dafna’s business, she wasn’t quite sure what she had to give in return. “I mean the guy is intelligent, handsome, and very sexy” she confessed to me. “But if I slept with him, I’d probably have to sleep with everyone else he is friends with. I mean, there we were in a beautiful house made of wood, eating a tasty vegetarian meal. At the dinner table gathered an assortment of intelligent, warm-hearted people, who had apparently has shared more than a meal with Mark.

I thought he adored me, but he seemed to adore these friends just as much, and wanted me to experience them too. But even I have my limits. Just because all of the people at the dinner table had clear skin, and were eating herb salad and tofu, does that mean I have to sleep with them all?”. It seems that even in the twenty-first century, Mark was a misplaced sixties child who believed in free love. Dafna returned to Israel a little less ambitious than when she initially set out on her fund-raising mission to the States. American men may be more tolerant and smoke less, but Mark lacked in terms of quantities of unhealthy substances he made up for in number of partners. So much for moral vegetarians.

This writer invited Dafna for a steak dinner upon her return to Israel. And we didn’t order dessert.

Post 17: Coffee, Watermelon or Spaghetti Bolognaise

first created as column 17, November, 2000

Those of you who have been faithful readers know that since my cooking talents are rather limited, to say the least, I am convinced that the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach. Some women have a weakness for blue eyes, some for men in uniforms. I admit it – my weakness is men who cook. And there seem to be many.

Finally, Friday night I had a chance to have sex, but I have been keeping myself so busy lately that I already had plans with Liat to go to a concert. Alon, a man I had gone out with months ago, invited me for dinner – but not out for dinner – to dinner that he had cooked himself, spaghetti bolognaise in fact. Once upon a time when a man wanted to have sex with a woman, he would invite her to his apartment for “coffee”. In the summer, it’s sometimes called “watermelon”. Now in the age when men cook, it has progressed to “spaghetti”.

The lack of sex in my life has become so depressing, that I simply have scheduled my free evenings (which are every second Friday night, when my son is with his father), a long time in advance. I don’t want to have sex with someone who isn’t interested in a relationship other than a sexual one, and although it would be nice, I might get hurt.

But when the invitation actually came, and I refused I felt a bit disappointed. I didn’t know whether to feel cheap that this guy was asking me over for a home-cooked meal after three months of not hearing from him, or whether to feel flattered that he still thought about me. I told him I needed a lot more notice than the same-night invitation, and was glad that he realized I was a woman in demand (for all he knows I was busy with another man).

The concert I saw with Liat was quite enjoyable, and I do not regret going with her by any means. When I checked my messages that night, there was one from an ex-boyfriend who wasn’t asleep yet, and invited me to drop in on my way home from Tel Aviv. It was 2 am when I checked the messages, and he had called at midnight, so I decided that it was way too late to call him back. Two offers in one night. And a few days later, a blind date I went out with called me and invited me to go out on a second date. Hey, I might be on a roll.

But what will happen when I actually have sex and/or a boyfriend? Will I stop writing? The whole point of this column is that there is no sex in the city, but I don’t think I’ll stop writing at least until Liat, Dafna and I all get a third date.

During her lunch break on Sunday, this writer ordered pasta on her lunch break on Sunday, instead of tuna salad. She could have chosen to have a full stomach on Friday night, but might have woken up Saturday morning with an empty heart.

Objects to Sleep with but No Sex Objects

Post 16 : Objects to Sleep with but No Sex Objects

originally created as Column Sixteen, November 2000

Note: this was written in the fall - hard to believe with the weather the way it is in Israel today in June!

Unlike my native Canada where there are six seasons, (spring, summer, Indian summer, fall, winter, and deep freeze), Israel has two seasons – summer and winter. The transitional period can happen within a few hours after the first serious rainfall and then the sandals disappear, the umbrellas and boots come out of hiding and there is a lot more closet space because the blankets on the beds are thicker. With the extreme of temperatures emerge also colds, viruses and aches and pains in places long forgotten. For example, a stiff neck or sore shoulder.

A boyfriend would definitely solve this problem. We could both massage each other’s sore muscles and maybe use other muscles not exercised in awhile. There would be no need to buy an electric blanket or let the space heater work overtime. But let’s face the facts. Not only did Israel experience a draught this year, but my Dafna, Liat and I have also been imitating camels. Even camels have their limits on how long they can last without water! Liat went all the way to Africa to look for a boyfriend and after seeing more animals than one can imagine she is courting a mammal of the human variety. Dafna has dogs and cats at home, but hasn’t managed to get to a second date lately. I’ve made it to the second date but can’t get to the third. Yet I’m the one born in Canada who is more sensitive to the cold than my sabra partners in celibacy.

So besides my son, who sometimes creeps into my bed when the sun shines through the shutters and wakes him up, I am left going to bed with a good book for my restlessness and a hot water bottle for my stiff neck. I’ve fantasized about several potential bed partners, but never a hot water bottle. That’s why my imaginary boyfriend is looking better all the time.

This writer hopes that this winter she will be able to toss off her blankets and quilts in search of cuddlier covers.

Round and Round the Teenager

Note: this is a departure from my regular blog posts because:
1. it happens in the present (when I'm 45 and my son is 14)
2. it is not about dating, although it is about parenting as a single, divorced mom
3. it is my first entry to Scribbit. This month's write-away contest has the theme "Going Places", so here I go.

Round and Round the Teenager

When I moved into my apartment building 12 years ago, my son's arm could barely reach the ground-floor button in the elevator. The ride up and down the elevator to the ninth floor must have seemed like a big trip for him.

Now at 5' 5" (165 cm) and growing, my fourteen-year old now calls me "shorty". He outdoes me in almost any aspect as do most of his classmates in his gifted class, and looking at him, just finishing 7th Grade (or Grade 7 as they say in Canada and "kita zayin" in Israel in Hebrew), I drift back to my own summers as a teenager.

Although I had a seemingly conventional family (mother, father, sister, brother and canary), summer cottage, sailboat, canoe, and chipmunks and squirrels we managed to domesticate, with the help of some sunflower seeds conveniently strewn on the steps leading up to the cottage, I dreaded the loneliness of not seeing my friends in the summer. They spent their summer
at the other side of the lake, which was 60 miles (100 kilometers) away.

I spent my days swimming or canoeing in the half-frozen lake, thankful for the fact that we had mosquitoes on our side of the lake, but the west side of the lake had mosquitoes AND fish flies. I never experienced the now common occurrence of bears actually coming up to the cottage property, scouting out food.

Fast forward back to my fourteen year-old. How different his summers are -no father, sister, brother or bird (at least not living with him since I'm divorced and don't recall giving birth to any other kids), computers, internet, Tel Aviv humidity combined with 40-degree Celsius heat,
but with no hole in the ozone layer like in Canada. He also doesn't seem very interested in meeting up with his friends. After endless tests and projects, bar mitzvah parties and end-of-year get- togethers, his peers just want one thing - to sleep-in.

Tomorrow we are going to the funeral of a dear family friend, 80-years old, who was like a grandfather to my son. When I'm eighty, my son will be forty-nine, five years older than I am today. Will there be any water left in the lakes? Will there be any fuel to power the planes across the oceans?

The price of gas doesn't affect the time-traveling mind of this writer,nor her teenager who will have to be content with traveling round and round Wikipedia until this writer finishes paying for his bar mitzvah travels and festivities from last year. (But that's another post yet to be written..)