Post 26: Clothespins, Poppyseeds and Headguests

originally created as Column twenty-six, June, 2001

Clothespins, Poppyseeds and Headguests

Since post twenty-four I’ve opened up a few more doors, actually had three dates with the same guy and frankly feel a little ambivalent. I’ve noticed a few peculiar things over the last six years, since my separation. First of all, men are like clothespins. All the sturdy, stable ones seem to get away and you are left with the imperfect ones. The socks must fall off with the clothespins, as it is a well-known fact that there are more single socks than single women. Washing machines are a well-known eater of socks, but where do they go once they are eaten?

So after you lose so many clothespins, you have to go shopping for more, and there never seem to be enough. Do they feel like they are going on dates when the laundry is being hung out? I mean there they are being hung out on a line in the middle of nowhere, having to fend for themselves. As well as supporting their own weight, they have to hold up wet laundry and hope that pigeons don’t mess with them. Some of the good quality pins do stay around, but they are a rare, faithful kind.

Speaking of laundry, I had a boyfriend for three years who basically saw my son grow up. Don met me when my son was only 2 and still in diapers. Despite the differences Don and I shared, I valued his tolerance of putting up with disgusting diapers. How was I to know that you don’t feed poppyseed hamantaschen (oznei haman) to a 2 year old boy, that poppyseed is something only older children can tolerate? Don was patient but nonetheless relieved when my son was FINALLY toilet trained only a month before his fourth birthday. Also at age 3, Don tolerated visitors of a different variety – head lice. I completely lost it when the daycare worker broke the news to me, but Don helped me comb out those little buggers and I have been fortunate not to buy lice killing shampoo for 3 and a half years until.....THEY’RE BACK.

It is 2 am and I am not having mad passionate sex with my imaginary boyfriend. I am combing head lice out of my hair, and this is all because my (blogger's note: at the time this post was created, my son was 7 - in 2008 he is 14) 7 year old son loves to hug his classmates. Only in Israel can I be dodging bombs one morning and combing hair lice out of my hair another night. Who knows, if perfume doesn’t attract men, then maybe the smell of this shampoo will work? What happens if on the fourth date, (if I get reach the fourth date) my “number 3 man” will want to stroke my hair? Do I tell him the truth and risk turning him off for life and turning this column into “Absolutely No Sex in the City Forever?”

This writer wishes that the little black things on her scalp were simply poppyseeds.

Post 25: The Towel

originally created as Column Twenty-Five, April, 2001


I have seen more men in towels than I have seen men naked. The first time I dropped in on a then platonic friend of mine several years ago (Don later became a lover, but it took months), he answered the door dressed only in a towel. Don wasn’t expecting me and I was rather taken aback at catching him straight out of the shower. I came to pick something up that he had brought for my son from one of his trips out of the country. We only started to sleep together months after that initial home visit. Perhaps the towel had frightened me, but having him greet me stark naked would have frightened me even more.

Today I confessed to my latest platonic friend, Evan, that I am attracted to him, and he confirmed (verbally at least) my suspicions that he is not interested in me physically. (I didn’t press him for the reason) He made sure not to let me into his bedroom when he got undressed to shower (yes, you might ask – why was I in his apartment while he was showering?) Rest assured that he did not invite me to join him in the shower. Next thing I know, he is parading in a towel in the kitchen, and ironing his shirt, while I stand, fully-clothed, watching this spectacle as if I am sitting in an audience.

I see myself on stage, playing the part of the rejected party while the object of my affection and physical attraction shows off his freshly showered and scrubbed torso. You would think he would be a bit embarrassed now knowing that I am attracted to his smell and yet he flashes his flesh unintentionally teasing me – tempting me to touch the body I dare not, because I know with certainty now, that my advances will be rejected.

My phone rings at night, and I know it is not Mr. Tempting Towel with second thoughts, but one of my “fuck buddies” trying to seduce me and console my soul with his body. I refuse, deciding to lose sleep by writing as opposed to wriggling.

Why are men so willing to expose their chests but when I dare mention their ex-girlfriends or wives, even accidentally, I get snapped at and no closer to peeling a layer off their fragile exterior?

This writer will probably throw in the towel long before Evan will.

Kisses are a Girl's Best Friend

Kisses are a Girl's Best Friend

The following is my submission for Scribbit's write-away contest for August, 2008.

We had been dating for a few months. He spent most of his nights at my apartment, as it was more convenient and closer to Tel Aviv, where we both worked. We had already declared that we loved each other, and I had already accepted his marriage proposal. But in Israel, you usually go from dating to marriage, and the engagement stage is shorter and less celebrated.

Although I am Canadian and my fiance was Australian, I didn't expect him to be any different from our Israeli-born friends. The fact that we had set a date and already announced our engagement to our parents seemed serious enough to me. I was elated that after four years since my immigration to Israel, a few failed relationships and some spurts of just plain loneliness, I had found someone with similar values and from a similar culture with whom to share my life and my future.

Or so I thought.

One night, a few weeks after we made our intent to marry public, my fiance told me he had something special to give me. He handed me a decorated box full of Hershey's Kisses. I was delighted, being a chocolate lover. It had been several hours since we had eaten dinner, so I happily unwrapped a few Kisses and enjoyed the taste and texture of non-Israeli chocolate.

"So, what do you think?” he asked.

"Thanks a lot. It was really nice of your sister to bring back these chocolates all the way from Australia.”

"Did you look through the entire box?”

"No, don't worry. I left some kisses for you”, I reassured him.

"Look again.”

Confused, I returned to the bedroom. Following his prompt, I emptied all the Kisses on to my bed, and saw that one of them shined. It wasn't a kiss at all, but his late grandmother's diamond ring, sent all the way from Australia. And now it was my engagement ring.

The next day at work everyone marvelled at the jewel on my finger.

But this writer had agreed to marry him already, even before the first kiss.

Post 24: The Current State of Non-Affairs

Originally created as column twenty-four, April 2001

The Current State of Non-Affairs

note: the following was written 7 years ago when the rate of suicide bombs in central Israel was very high. This writer was also younger

The hi-tech industry is at a stand still and so is my love life. Employees are being laid off, or there is simply a hiring freeze, including my free-lance position. The months roll by and the frequency of bombs going off increases. The bombs are exploding closer and closer to my home. I’m trying to go off the sex with ex-boyfriend habit, as I am ready for something deeper, or am I? I met an amazing guy at work, Evan, but he is a bachelor, which goes against all my “rules”. We have an amazing friendship, but he doesn’t seem to want a physical relationship with me, and although we have been almost inseparable for the past two months, he doesn’t appear to want a relationship with me because:

I work with him.
I am divorced.
He is not attracted to me.
I don’t know! And I can’t discuss this with him, as I don’t want to ruin our friendship. We have even spoken about writing together. He gets along amazingly with my son and we both share a love for writing, folk music and theater.

And I’m attracted to him. But I see his faults, and I know that in his forties, if he is not married, there is a reason. Perfectionism? Criticism? Having been hurt in the past?

I can’t get him to open up in this area. I suspect that he takes a long time making decisions. I think I have made it very obvious that I like him and find him attractive...

I even took him one night to the theater so that I didn’t have to be alone and face my ex boyfriend with his new girlfriend. They are perfect for each other. Both overweight. Both without children. Both live within a few blocks of each other. They don’t have children, but they both cook so well that they have to decide about who has custody of the kitchen on the weekends. Food and sex must be a very big part of their lives – but I would choose the sex over the food, given a choice on a Friday night, whereas I am sure they would choose the food first. Oh, I would definitely get to the food, but not if I were seduced first, kissed slowly on my ears, behind my ears, on my neck....

All of a sudden potential blind-dates are calling me as well as men from the past, and my mind is thinking about my work, or lack of permanent work, and I sit exhausted typing about the current state of non-affairs. My perfect lover, who is not a friend and my perfect friend, who is not a lover...and all the ex-lovers and friends in between, suddenly back in my life or trying to enter my life. It’s not really in my hands. I am letting things happen, but I am not hiding my feelings. I am giving unconditionally, something I have not done in a very long time. I have finally gotten “over” my ex-boyfriend now that he has a new girlfriend and I can see that his basic personality and habits will never change.

I look into the eyes of my platonic friend and smile. I try not to imagine my lips touching his, my arms around him, after a friendly hug, being met by an extended hug - I’ve seen him half naked in a swimsuit and he, likewise has seen me in everything from an elegant suit to casual jeans to a bathing suit, with or without makeup...all his friends assure me that he isn’t gay, and he himself has denied being gay and has released names of past girlfriends...

Yet we are both going to bed with books and sleeping in our own beds alone. His pet adores him and reflects his good temper. My expensive house pet adores me and is pretty good natured himself.

No sex in the city tonight for this writer, whereas that may not be the case for two gourmet cooks whiling away the hours at saucepans and the bedsheets at one of two flats in Tel Aviv...

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.