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.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
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!
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!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
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.....
"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.....
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Post 47: Sweat Lodge goes Urban
flashback to October, 2005
After the festival was over, my son and I returned to central Israel and Arie and his sons returned to their Galilee town. I continued my succot holiday with my son and friends in the Dead Sea area, visiting Ein Gedi and Massada, far from the would-be hippies I had left near the Sea of Gailee.
I checked my messages that weekend at home to find one from Arie. He told me how much he enjoyed meeting me and wished me a good trip in the Dead Sea. After a few phone calls back and forth over the next week or so, he told me that he was going to a Sweat Lodge ceremony in Tivon, an hour south of where he lived and thought he would visit me. Well, to drive to my city from Tivon in northern Israel is another hour drive, making his commute approximately two-hours. I got the hint. It wasn't a matter of 'I'm going to be in your area", but the Sweat Lodge was an excuse for "I'm going to be closer to your area and will make the extra effort to see you if you give me the green light".
So I did. I had a subscription to the theater in Tel Aviv. To my delight, as well as hiking and new age workshops, he also liked classical music, theater, jazz and reading. Later I was to discover at his apartment old records, yes, vinal records of Neil Young, Cat Stevens, among others.
My son conveniently ended up staying at friends on that Friday night.
And that's how it all began.
This writer finally had a boyfriend that met all her criteria - non-smoking, divorced, and with children - and this time the boyfriend was not imaginary.
After the festival was over, my son and I returned to central Israel and Arie and his sons returned to their Galilee town. I continued my succot holiday with my son and friends in the Dead Sea area, visiting Ein Gedi and Massada, far from the would-be hippies I had left near the Sea of Gailee.
I checked my messages that weekend at home to find one from Arie. He told me how much he enjoyed meeting me and wished me a good trip in the Dead Sea. After a few phone calls back and forth over the next week or so, he told me that he was going to a Sweat Lodge ceremony in Tivon, an hour south of where he lived and thought he would visit me. Well, to drive to my city from Tivon in northern Israel is another hour drive, making his commute approximately two-hours. I got the hint. It wasn't a matter of 'I'm going to be in your area", but the Sweat Lodge was an excuse for "I'm going to be closer to your area and will make the extra effort to see you if you give me the green light".
So I did. I had a subscription to the theater in Tel Aviv. To my delight, as well as hiking and new age workshops, he also liked classical music, theater, jazz and reading. Later I was to discover at his apartment old records, yes, vinal records of Neil Young, Cat Stevens, among others.
My son conveniently ended up staying at friends on that Friday night.
And that's how it all began.
This writer finally had a boyfriend that met all her criteria - non-smoking, divorced, and with children - and this time the boyfriend was not imaginary.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Post 46: No Sex in the Tent
flashback to October, 2005
On the northeast side of the Sea of Galilee, during the Succot holidays, I spent a few days with Arie and his sons, Erez and Alon at the Breshit (Genesis) Festival. Born in the sixties, I was too young to be a hippy and too old to be Generation X. I was born just after the baby boomers, between generations.
I typed my essays in university on a typewriter and learned word-processing on a computer on the job. The first time I saw a fax machine was during one of my first temp jobs. I didn't fear technology because it was in its infancy. and I didn't fear new age workshops, as my mother had already been involved with the new age movement in Canada in the 70s. We just didn't know it was the new age then.
I discovered music of the 60s in the 70s, and the 70s in the 80s, always feeling I had just missed the train. Although the festival was full of teenagers, there were some families and I was happy to have hooked up with a divorced man and his sons. What I didn't expect was the intensity of the rain! My son and I had pitched our tent in the family area, about a kilometer walk from Arie and his sons' camping area.
On the second day of the festival, my son and I awoke to a downpour. The food court area was drenched. The workshop area was soaked. One of the only warm place was in the lake itself...but until we got there, we visited Arie in his home away from home. He had hooked his appliances up to the electricity of the staff area and made us coffee and tea. He had a foldup table and chairs, two or three tents, one for each of his sons and enough food to feed us as well as his offspring.
With nothing to do, my son entered ten-year old Alon's tent, and Arie offered to play backgammon with me in his tent. I beat him at the first few games, but Alon told my son that I spent the entire time having sex with his father in the tent.
This writer did not know that backgammon had sexual overtones.
On the northeast side of the Sea of Galilee, during the Succot holidays, I spent a few days with Arie and his sons, Erez and Alon at the Breshit (Genesis) Festival. Born in the sixties, I was too young to be a hippy and too old to be Generation X. I was born just after the baby boomers, between generations.
I typed my essays in university on a typewriter and learned word-processing on a computer on the job. The first time I saw a fax machine was during one of my first temp jobs. I didn't fear technology because it was in its infancy. and I didn't fear new age workshops, as my mother had already been involved with the new age movement in Canada in the 70s. We just didn't know it was the new age then.
I discovered music of the 60s in the 70s, and the 70s in the 80s, always feeling I had just missed the train. Although the festival was full of teenagers, there were some families and I was happy to have hooked up with a divorced man and his sons. What I didn't expect was the intensity of the rain! My son and I had pitched our tent in the family area, about a kilometer walk from Arie and his sons' camping area.
On the second day of the festival, my son and I awoke to a downpour. The food court area was drenched. The workshop area was soaked. One of the only warm place was in the lake itself...but until we got there, we visited Arie in his home away from home. He had hooked his appliances up to the electricity of the staff area and made us coffee and tea. He had a foldup table and chairs, two or three tents, one for each of his sons and enough food to feed us as well as his offspring.
With nothing to do, my son entered ten-year old Alon's tent, and Arie offered to play backgammon with me in his tent. I beat him at the first few games, but Alon told my son that I spent the entire time having sex with his father in the tent.
This writer did not know that backgammon had sexual overtones.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Post 45: Finding a Haven Despite the Teenagers
flashback to october, 2005
Arie and his exwife named their children according to the same letter of the alphabet - the Hebrew letter aleph - Alma, Erez and Alon. The first one I met was the Alon, the ten year old.
Arie and Alon greeted us near the main gate of the festival area. After a kilometer walk from the family camping area, we found our meeting place and introduced ourselves. Arie and I had met a week or so earlier at a party. I didn't know if he was coming with a girlfriend or by himself, but I was happy to see a familiar face and even happier that my son would have some company among the hippies who seemed to have forgotten that there are no more hippies left. We decided to go the the evening performances together, featuring Israeli artists - not mainstream but not too alternative either. This suited me fine.
Arie had half his house with him. He had even set hooked up some of his appliances to the electric system of the festival employees. The reason he was set up in the staff section is that his 15 year old, Erez, was working in the children's area, helping with ceramics and other activities. Erez was apparently hanging out with his teenage peers, while Arie, Alon and my son hung out together, listening to the likes of Mika Karni and the sons of the late Meir Ariel. A few groups had cancelled because of the impending rain, but we didn't care.
This writer realized that she was actually having fun at this festival despite it being invaded by teenagers.
Arie and his exwife named their children according to the same letter of the alphabet - the Hebrew letter aleph - Alma, Erez and Alon. The first one I met was the Alon, the ten year old.
Arie and Alon greeted us near the main gate of the festival area. After a kilometer walk from the family camping area, we found our meeting place and introduced ourselves. Arie and I had met a week or so earlier at a party. I didn't know if he was coming with a girlfriend or by himself, but I was happy to see a familiar face and even happier that my son would have some company among the hippies who seemed to have forgotten that there are no more hippies left. We decided to go the the evening performances together, featuring Israeli artists - not mainstream but not too alternative either. This suited me fine.
Arie had half his house with him. He had even set hooked up some of his appliances to the electric system of the festival employees. The reason he was set up in the staff section is that his 15 year old, Erez, was working in the children's area, helping with ceramics and other activities. Erez was apparently hanging out with his teenage peers, while Arie, Alon and my son hung out together, listening to the likes of Mika Karni and the sons of the late Meir Ariel. A few groups had cancelled because of the impending rain, but we didn't care.
This writer realized that she was actually having fun at this festival despite it being invaded by teenagers.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Post 44: Busride with an adult, some teenagers and the vodka bottles
flashback to October, 2005
I signed a contract with a new hitech company so I had a month off, free of job interviews and going to work. But I still didn't have a car. This wasn't so bad during the week, but Israeli Jewish holidays proved to be a bit challenging. Trains don't run during the Sabbath and religious holidays, and buses are hard to find, except in some of the mixed neighborhoods and cities such as Haifa.
Therefore, being secular and having the high holidays fall smack in the middle of the week can make you feel stranded. Rosh hashana passed. Yom kippur passed. Then it was Succot. There was no way we were going to spend 4 days without a car stuck in our house eating Pasta and watching DVDs of Seinfeld.
There were two new age festivals that were meant for families during the festival of Succot - one was Festival Breshit, at the Sea of Galilee and one was Segol, at the Dor beach. I didn't know one from the other, so I asked my son to choose. He chose fresh water over sea water, and that's how we ended up, one quiet morning during Succot, on a chartered bus - an eleven year old, a forty-two year old, and a bus full of teenagers with minimal shanti style clothing, multiple body-piercing, tattoos and vodka.
This was the bus to the family festival. After about ten minutes on the bus, I was ready to turn around. But I had already paid for the fares and so there was no turning back. There was nowhere to go anyway. Our tent and backpack were already in the baggage compartment of the bus and I was determined to get away from the city life, even though I missed driving the company car and stopping wherever I wanted to, whenever I wanted to.
Eventually we reached our destination on the eastern part of the Sea of Gailee, along with thousands of other teenagers, and thankfully, a few families. The family camping area was uncomfortably close to the noisy chai shop where many of the teenagers partied all night.
But before nightfall, I still had to pitch my tent, and there was someone who had offered to help me with that.
This writer called Arie's cellphone. There was no answer so she asked someone else to help her with the tent. Shortly before the sunset, her phone rang.
I signed a contract with a new hitech company so I had a month off, free of job interviews and going to work. But I still didn't have a car. This wasn't so bad during the week, but Israeli Jewish holidays proved to be a bit challenging. Trains don't run during the Sabbath and religious holidays, and buses are hard to find, except in some of the mixed neighborhoods and cities such as Haifa.
Therefore, being secular and having the high holidays fall smack in the middle of the week can make you feel stranded. Rosh hashana passed. Yom kippur passed. Then it was Succot. There was no way we were going to spend 4 days without a car stuck in our house eating Pasta and watching DVDs of Seinfeld.
There were two new age festivals that were meant for families during the festival of Succot - one was Festival Breshit, at the Sea of Galilee and one was Segol, at the Dor beach. I didn't know one from the other, so I asked my son to choose. He chose fresh water over sea water, and that's how we ended up, one quiet morning during Succot, on a chartered bus - an eleven year old, a forty-two year old, and a bus full of teenagers with minimal shanti style clothing, multiple body-piercing, tattoos and vodka.
This was the bus to the family festival. After about ten minutes on the bus, I was ready to turn around. But I had already paid for the fares and so there was no turning back. There was nowhere to go anyway. Our tent and backpack were already in the baggage compartment of the bus and I was determined to get away from the city life, even though I missed driving the company car and stopping wherever I wanted to, whenever I wanted to.
Eventually we reached our destination on the eastern part of the Sea of Gailee, along with thousands of other teenagers, and thankfully, a few families. The family camping area was uncomfortably close to the noisy chai shop where many of the teenagers partied all night.
But before nightfall, I still had to pitch my tent, and there was someone who had offered to help me with that.
This writer called Arie's cellphone. There was no answer so she asked someone else to help her with the tent. Shortly before the sunset, her phone rang.
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