originally created as column eleven, November 2000
The Career Change
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 blog (then column). After working for eight years with middle-aged married men and menopausal divorced women – actually a few women were single and some had babies, but others died or got sick with various forms of cancer or heart attacks – it really was depressing! The men seemed to flourish and mellow while the women seemed to get more hot flushes and more bitter.
As I was approaching 40, I saw myself as a prime candidate to become another statistic and decided I had to get out. Once I made the decision there was no turning back, so I decided to get into hi-tech. Without a technical background, I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to get in, but I did, albeit through the back door, but in. I thought I would meet some nice computer nerd, divorced, around my age, and that we would build a cubicle in the suburbs, drive into the city together and relieve the pain of traffic jams. I mean with Israel falling not far behind the U.S. in divorce statistics, I thought that the divorced men would be waiting for me with open arms.
I was wrong. I couldn’t find even one divorced man. Apparently, the only divorced men in the company already managed to upgrade to their second marriages. (As I’ve written about in another column, you always need more than one release in hi-tech). And no other men were divorced because they were so young they haven’t even been married! I quickly learned that although there were a lot of fathers around there were too many young, attractive guys. If I just wanted sex, then I, thirty-something would be sexually compatible with these twenty-something guys, but since this society does not accept such an age difference, I realized that I didn’t have a chance.
I did pass for ten years younger on a few occasions, but I didn’t want to lie about my personal status and the existence of my flat mate. (“I share my apartment with a great guy. He’s attractive with blond hair and blue eyes and is a lot of fun. Only problem is he is too young to share paying the bills”). I often think my son should go out and pick up boyfriends for me while I stay at home watching Disney videos and Pokeman tv shows. (I can tolerate Pokeman but I can’t stand Barney. Luckily, the Hebrew language version never really caught on that strongly in Israel).
So that’s where I find myself today – surrounded by attractive single and married men. Wrong place and wrong time. Who knows – ten years from now I might be remarried and these guys will finally be divorced*. As for the nerds, I must be one myself as I can’t seem to find them.
* a bit of foreshadowing...
This writer is managing to learn new skills, despite being distracted by hi-tech hunks.
.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
Post 10: Wedding Ring for Sale
originally posted as column ten, November, 2000
A couple is engaged. The invitations have been printed, the bride’s dress has been altered and the groom’s suit has been bought. Although by Jewish law only the woman needs an object of value (usually a wedding ring) for the religious ceremony, the man often gets one too, as a tradition, as a symbol of partnership. I am yours and you are mine. We are devoted to each other. We will not cheat on each other. We will wear the rings proudly and show the world that we are spoken for. The religious women cover their hair. The more modern orthodox or secular women leave their hair uncovered but wear wedding rings.
Or so I thought. It seems that some just find them uncomfortable and keep them at home or in safety deposit boxes. As for the men, some work in more physical jobs than women do. I’m not being sexist, but there are more men working as electricians, plumbers and painters than there are women. The ring is not to stop the married men from having affairs, but at least those women not wanting to get involved with married men can sometimes tell that they are married. I don’t think it’s fair that some married men do not wear wedding rings.
A friend of mine tells me to stop going on blind dates and to pick up men on the street, in playgrounds, shopping centers, cafes, at red lights. So when I see a man with a child or two in the playground or in a shopping center, the problem is that I look at his hand and I don’t know if he’s married, divorced, widowed, single or gay. Chances are that if he is particularly good looking, he is probably gay, but there are not that many gay men, as far as I know with children. It is becoming more common, but usually I seem to run into married men. They look like great fathers. Sometimes their wives emerge from behind the trees, or come waltzing down the sidewalk with a stroller and a small baby.
As I said, it’s just not fair. If the married men and women refuse to wear their wedding rings, then it is about time for the divorced men and women to have some sort of sign. Perhaps a certain colored sock? A tattoo? (Not a good idea – what if they remarry?) Hair dyed an unusual color (blue for a broken marriage?) A hat...or the t-shirt I mentioned in one of my earlier posts (post 1) – I don’t want a boyfriend. It seems so easy to start a conversation about a man’s child or dog, but how do you pick the right guy to talk to? Until you build up the nerve, he is off with another woman. You know the type. She doesn’t try, but gets the guy. I’m through with trying, although I never really started.
That’s why I’m writing. I figure if I write long enough about it I might create this reality, and maybe we wouldn’t need friends, matchmakers or the internet to set us up. We could go to trips for singles and know each person’s status. Perhaps the men should walk around with little computer screens around their heads with their marital status, smoking and dietary habits flashing as subtitles.
When I was twelve I didn’t think any boy would ever like me, and would like any boy who so much paid the slightest bit of attention to me. I remained a virgin until an age I do not yet wish to disclose. Maybe those teenage boys should have had signs at the school dances and I wouldn’t have been so shy. The sign could have read “I have a crush on....”
So it’s groping in the dark when you’re looking for a serious relationship. If you just want sex, I guess, then just put on a wedding ring.
This writer wore her wedding and engagement rings throughout her marriage. Today, most of the rings around her are from her telephones.
A couple is engaged. The invitations have been printed, the bride’s dress has been altered and the groom’s suit has been bought. Although by Jewish law only the woman needs an object of value (usually a wedding ring) for the religious ceremony, the man often gets one too, as a tradition, as a symbol of partnership. I am yours and you are mine. We are devoted to each other. We will not cheat on each other. We will wear the rings proudly and show the world that we are spoken for. The religious women cover their hair. The more modern orthodox or secular women leave their hair uncovered but wear wedding rings.
Or so I thought. It seems that some just find them uncomfortable and keep them at home or in safety deposit boxes. As for the men, some work in more physical jobs than women do. I’m not being sexist, but there are more men working as electricians, plumbers and painters than there are women. The ring is not to stop the married men from having affairs, but at least those women not wanting to get involved with married men can sometimes tell that they are married. I don’t think it’s fair that some married men do not wear wedding rings.
A friend of mine tells me to stop going on blind dates and to pick up men on the street, in playgrounds, shopping centers, cafes, at red lights. So when I see a man with a child or two in the playground or in a shopping center, the problem is that I look at his hand and I don’t know if he’s married, divorced, widowed, single or gay. Chances are that if he is particularly good looking, he is probably gay, but there are not that many gay men, as far as I know with children. It is becoming more common, but usually I seem to run into married men. They look like great fathers. Sometimes their wives emerge from behind the trees, or come waltzing down the sidewalk with a stroller and a small baby.
As I said, it’s just not fair. If the married men and women refuse to wear their wedding rings, then it is about time for the divorced men and women to have some sort of sign. Perhaps a certain colored sock? A tattoo? (Not a good idea – what if they remarry?) Hair dyed an unusual color (blue for a broken marriage?) A hat...or the t-shirt I mentioned in one of my earlier posts (post 1) – I don’t want a boyfriend. It seems so easy to start a conversation about a man’s child or dog, but how do you pick the right guy to talk to? Until you build up the nerve, he is off with another woman. You know the type. She doesn’t try, but gets the guy. I’m through with trying, although I never really started.
That’s why I’m writing. I figure if I write long enough about it I might create this reality, and maybe we wouldn’t need friends, matchmakers or the internet to set us up. We could go to trips for singles and know each person’s status. Perhaps the men should walk around with little computer screens around their heads with their marital status, smoking and dietary habits flashing as subtitles.
When I was twelve I didn’t think any boy would ever like me, and would like any boy who so much paid the slightest bit of attention to me. I remained a virgin until an age I do not yet wish to disclose. Maybe those teenage boys should have had signs at the school dances and I wouldn’t have been so shy. The sign could have read “I have a crush on....”
So it’s groping in the dark when you’re looking for a serious relationship. If you just want sex, I guess, then just put on a wedding ring.
This writer wore her wedding and engagement rings throughout her marriage. Today, most of the rings around her are from her telephones.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Post 9: Absence of Garbage Cans
originally created as column nine, October, 2000
I don’t know if it is a particularly Israeli phenomenon or a worldwide phenomenon in men’s homes or in workplaces where the majority of employees are male. I’m talking about the absence of garbage cans in toilets. Now what does this have to do with sex? Well, if there was no sex, then there would be no need for females or menstruation. When we women have our periods, we need to dispose of our tampons or pads in a garbage can/rubbish tin/disposable container. In most bathrooms designed by females, there is often a covered garbage can, often with a plastic bag lining it, and sometimes with a pedal. It might even match the decor of the bathroom and is not offensive.
Then there are men’s bathrooms. Not a garbage can in sight? Maybe in the kitchen, under the sink, or in the sink, but don’t hold your breath. Some men seem to prefer their windows. Now I could tolerate this, or at least understand this if we lived in a country that did a lot of recycling, had garbage compressing systems, or even garbage chutes in apartment buildings. But what do these men do with their dental floss, Q-tips, used razor blades, empty shaving cream or deodorant cans? I am certain they can’t possibly throw everything down the toilet? If they want a girlfriend as a semi-permanent house guest, it would be a grateful gesture to place a garbage can in their bathrooms. Otherwise we females must wrap up the reminders of our femininity in toilet paper, place them in our hands, walk through the bathroom door and begin our search for a garbage can.
Sometimes I think it is easier to find a date than a garbage can. Let’s say that you are lucky enough to work for an office that does have a bathroom equipped with a garbage can, but you happen to wear an outfit without pockets. How do you go to the bathroom with the tampon or pad? Do you hold it in your hands, bring your rolled fists together, take on the posture of a kangaroo and leap down the hall into the bathroom? Do you stick it in your bra and hope that nobody notices that your bra is padded more heavily in one cup than in another? You walk down the hall hoping not to run into the president of the company or your boss who is wondering why you had to take two trips to the bathroom (because you forgot the hygienic protection first time around) within the last 5 minutes.
It could be worse. You could be caught having sex in the bathroom. But since there seems to be no sex in this city, it doesn’t seem likely. And rare are the women (although they do exist) who would want to have sex during their period anyway.
This writer has garbage cans near both of her toilets. They are emptied regularly.
originally created as column nine, October, 2000
I don’t know if it is a particularly Israeli phenomenon or a worldwide phenomenon in men’s homes or in workplaces where the majority of employees are male. I’m talking about the absence of garbage cans in toilets. Now what does this have to do with sex? Well, if there was no sex, then there would be no need for females or menstruation. When we women have our periods, we need to dispose of our tampons or pads in a garbage can/rubbish tin/disposable container. In most bathrooms designed by females, there is often a covered garbage can, often with a plastic bag lining it, and sometimes with a pedal. It might even match the decor of the bathroom and is not offensive.
Then there are men’s bathrooms. Not a garbage can in sight? Maybe in the kitchen, under the sink, or in the sink, but don’t hold your breath. Some men seem to prefer their windows. Now I could tolerate this, or at least understand this if we lived in a country that did a lot of recycling, had garbage compressing systems, or even garbage chutes in apartment buildings. But what do these men do with their dental floss, Q-tips, used razor blades, empty shaving cream or deodorant cans? I am certain they can’t possibly throw everything down the toilet? If they want a girlfriend as a semi-permanent house guest, it would be a grateful gesture to place a garbage can in their bathrooms. Otherwise we females must wrap up the reminders of our femininity in toilet paper, place them in our hands, walk through the bathroom door and begin our search for a garbage can.
Sometimes I think it is easier to find a date than a garbage can. Let’s say that you are lucky enough to work for an office that does have a bathroom equipped with a garbage can, but you happen to wear an outfit without pockets. How do you go to the bathroom with the tampon or pad? Do you hold it in your hands, bring your rolled fists together, take on the posture of a kangaroo and leap down the hall into the bathroom? Do you stick it in your bra and hope that nobody notices that your bra is padded more heavily in one cup than in another? You walk down the hall hoping not to run into the president of the company or your boss who is wondering why you had to take two trips to the bathroom (because you forgot the hygienic protection first time around) within the last 5 minutes.
It could be worse. You could be caught having sex in the bathroom. But since there seems to be no sex in this city, it doesn’t seem likely. And rare are the women (although they do exist) who would want to have sex during their period anyway.
This writer has garbage cans near both of her toilets. They are emptied regularly.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Post 8: The Engineer
originally created as Column Eight, October 2000
Certain hi-tech companies employ engineers in their research and development departments. I thought they were supposed to research the latest communications technology and develop a product for a beta release that will later be distributed to the market at large. But it seems that some engineers use R&D for dating and believe that a stable partner is also static and is not valid for extensive use.
Itzik is a bright engineer, not bad looking and pretty sociable. I met him through a friend and bumped into him on several occasions. First at a party, second time at a conference and the third time at his home, where he invited a few friends over. Each time he had a different woman with him, different shape, different hair color, but definitely female. The last time I saw him was at Liz and Roni’s wedding. Again he showed up with a nice looking date. I guess as an engineer he always needs an upgraded version... With all new features displayed, he left Israel about a year ago and was last seen with a new model in a commonwealth country very much connected with the 20000 Olympics.
I finally figured out why so many men cheat on their partners. They are looking for new releases.
This writer doesn’t even know what model and version her computer is.
originally created as Column Eight, October 2000
Certain hi-tech companies employ engineers in their research and development departments. I thought they were supposed to research the latest communications technology and develop a product for a beta release that will later be distributed to the market at large. But it seems that some engineers use R&D for dating and believe that a stable partner is also static and is not valid for extensive use.
Itzik is a bright engineer, not bad looking and pretty sociable. I met him through a friend and bumped into him on several occasions. First at a party, second time at a conference and the third time at his home, where he invited a few friends over. Each time he had a different woman with him, different shape, different hair color, but definitely female. The last time I saw him was at Liz and Roni’s wedding. Again he showed up with a nice looking date. I guess as an engineer he always needs an upgraded version... With all new features displayed, he left Israel about a year ago and was last seen with a new model in a commonwealth country very much connected with the 20000 Olympics.
I finally figured out why so many men cheat on their partners. They are looking for new releases.
This writer doesn’t even know what model and version her computer is.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Post 7: There is sushi. There is sunshine.
originally created as column 7, October, 2000
There is sushi. There is sunshine.
Lately I’m simply a bit tired of thinking about men. So I met Dafna and Liat for sushi one Friday afternoon. It was a beautiful sunny day. No one asked if us if we were thin or fat, what we looked like and why we got divorced. We sat for a leisurely lunch and I didn’t have to worry if Dafna would call me again or whether Liat would try to kiss me. And I can call either one of them without them thinking that I am being pushy. We don’t have to define our relationship because we are all friends, and I won’t get jealous when they date other men or meet with other women. They will compliment me on my clothes and hair and forgive each other for losing or gaining weight, because there are more important things in life after all.
After lunch, I went home and bought myself flowers and put on some quiet romantic music, and then I took a nap. At least when there is no sex, you can sleep peacefully. So on some days, men, we just don’t need you. When there’s no sex, there is sushi, and there is sunshine.
This writer eats tuna salad, chicken and other, less exotic food. Sushi is a treat.
originally created as column 7, October, 2000
There is sushi. There is sunshine.
Lately I’m simply a bit tired of thinking about men. So I met Dafna and Liat for sushi one Friday afternoon. It was a beautiful sunny day. No one asked if us if we were thin or fat, what we looked like and why we got divorced. We sat for a leisurely lunch and I didn’t have to worry if Dafna would call me again or whether Liat would try to kiss me. And I can call either one of them without them thinking that I am being pushy. We don’t have to define our relationship because we are all friends, and I won’t get jealous when they date other men or meet with other women. They will compliment me on my clothes and hair and forgive each other for losing or gaining weight, because there are more important things in life after all.
After lunch, I went home and bought myself flowers and put on some quiet romantic music, and then I took a nap. At least when there is no sex, you can sleep peacefully. So on some days, men, we just don’t need you. When there’s no sex, there is sushi, and there is sunshine.
This writer eats tuna salad, chicken and other, less exotic food. Sushi is a treat.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Post 6: Breasts are not Shoulders
originally created as column 6, September 2000
Why do men think that breasts are like shoulders?
They fondle them like shoulders, and they don’t seem to know that they are not shoulders and are not pillows, but actual breasts. Our nipples are not raisins that will come off when plucked, and tension will not necessarily removed when fondled. Some women like some pain, and I must admit to liking my breasts fondled, except when I was breast feeding - –then breasts to me were the most asexual thing around, and I couldn’t figure out my then husband’s great interest in them. And if some people say that it is because they still miss their mothers, then why don’t women (who also drank milk from their mother’s breasts?) have this great need to seek out breasts?
And what is this business with bra straps showing in Israel? Don’t they make strapless bras here? Why wear this great sexy backless, off the shoulder peach colored dress with a black bra strap across the back? What’s the point of the backless look when the bra strap has to ruin it? I’m no fashion expert, but can someone explain this please? Is there an excess of straps that Israelis need to use them? I guess they wear their strapless bras under t-shirts and long sleeved high cut shirts, when they are not needed. If someone can explain this to me, I would appreciate it. Some of my girlfriends think it’s sexy; others agree it’s just plain ugly, but I just don’t get it.
This writer is the proud owner of more than three strapless bras.
originally created as column 6, September 2000
Why do men think that breasts are like shoulders?
They fondle them like shoulders, and they don’t seem to know that they are not shoulders and are not pillows, but actual breasts. Our nipples are not raisins that will come off when plucked, and tension will not necessarily removed when fondled. Some women like some pain, and I must admit to liking my breasts fondled, except when I was breast feeding - –then breasts to me were the most asexual thing around, and I couldn’t figure out my then husband’s great interest in them. And if some people say that it is because they still miss their mothers, then why don’t women (who also drank milk from their mother’s breasts?) have this great need to seek out breasts?
And what is this business with bra straps showing in Israel? Don’t they make strapless bras here? Why wear this great sexy backless, off the shoulder peach colored dress with a black bra strap across the back? What’s the point of the backless look when the bra strap has to ruin it? I’m no fashion expert, but can someone explain this please? Is there an excess of straps that Israelis need to use them? I guess they wear their strapless bras under t-shirts and long sleeved high cut shirts, when they are not needed. If someone can explain this to me, I would appreciate it. Some of my girlfriends think it’s sexy; others agree it’s just plain ugly, but I just don’t get it.
This writer is the proud owner of more than three strapless bras.
Sex and the City Movie: coming soon to Israel
Bringing you back to the present, I can't ignore the fact that the new "Sex and the City" movie opened in Europe and will come to Israel at the end of the month.
This appears to be the official blog of the movie: http://www.newline.com/sexandthecity/
I'll probably have read all the spoilers by the time I see the movie, but that doesn't mean I won't enjoy it. Anything to believe that these characters are still living, virtually at least.
Bringing you back to the present, I can't ignore the fact that the new "Sex and the City" movie opened in Europe and will come to Israel at the end of the month.
This appears to be the official blog of the movie: http://www.newline.com/sexandthecity/
I'll probably have read all the spoilers by the time I see the movie, but that doesn't mean I won't enjoy it. Anything to believe that these characters are still living, virtually at least.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Post 5: It's in his kiss
originally created as column five, September, 2000
I have heard that some prostitutes do not kiss on the mouth, because this implies an emotional attachment. They will have intercourse, give blow jobs, hand jobs, play psychologist and undergo all sorts of female-male acts, but they do not kiss on the mouth.
So you can imagine my devastation when a very cuddly man, divorced with twins, intelligent, charming and not bad looking would not kiss me on the mouth, and still doesn’t kiss any woman he sleeps with. He is still traumatized by his divorce and it will take some type of therapy, or he will simply snap out of it. He gave his soul to his ex-wife and just doesn’t feel that he can give anymore of himself. So he will hug, cuddle, fondle, give massages, but he will not kiss. You would think that I would be tired of that right away, but I stayed with him because it was a really cold winter and I wanted the male warmth and understanding. No one bought me an electric blanket and my quilts kept falling off the bed, but there’s nothing like a hug. So I was hugful and kissless. When I finally got the kiss I waited for from someone else I felt like some teenager. It was on a second date, months later, and it was in his car. He held my face when he kissed me and I didn’t see fireworks, but I felt like a virgin and teenager again (yes these days virginal doesn’t necessarily go with teenager) but I felt like one.... and now I am simply addicted to kissing. I don’t miss hugs so much or orgasms (I can do that by myself anyway) but a good kiss...not a sloppy one or particularly wet one, but a gentle well meaning warm and romantic kiss, and when I hear Cher’s song “It’s in His Kiss, That’s where it is”, I understand.
This writer holds no resemblance to Cher or she would not have time or need to write this column.
originally created as column five, September, 2000
I have heard that some prostitutes do not kiss on the mouth, because this implies an emotional attachment. They will have intercourse, give blow jobs, hand jobs, play psychologist and undergo all sorts of female-male acts, but they do not kiss on the mouth.
So you can imagine my devastation when a very cuddly man, divorced with twins, intelligent, charming and not bad looking would not kiss me on the mouth, and still doesn’t kiss any woman he sleeps with. He is still traumatized by his divorce and it will take some type of therapy, or he will simply snap out of it. He gave his soul to his ex-wife and just doesn’t feel that he can give anymore of himself. So he will hug, cuddle, fondle, give massages, but he will not kiss. You would think that I would be tired of that right away, but I stayed with him because it was a really cold winter and I wanted the male warmth and understanding. No one bought me an electric blanket and my quilts kept falling off the bed, but there’s nothing like a hug. So I was hugful and kissless. When I finally got the kiss I waited for from someone else I felt like some teenager. It was on a second date, months later, and it was in his car. He held my face when he kissed me and I didn’t see fireworks, but I felt like a virgin and teenager again (yes these days virginal doesn’t necessarily go with teenager) but I felt like one.... and now I am simply addicted to kissing. I don’t miss hugs so much or orgasms (I can do that by myself anyway) but a good kiss...not a sloppy one or particularly wet one, but a gentle well meaning warm and romantic kiss, and when I hear Cher’s song “It’s in His Kiss, That’s where it is”, I understand.
This writer holds no resemblance to Cher or she would not have time or need to write this column.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Post 4: How many dates should you wait?
originally created as column 4, September, 2000
Despite our supposedly modern society, and even those enough intelligent enough to use condoms and get periodic HIV tests, many of us still agree that one does not go to bed on the first date. So the question is, on what date is it ok to go to bed? There seems to be some consensus that the fourth date is passable but that the fifth or sixth is more respectable, and others say waiting for 20 dates is a real test of spiritual awareness and restraint.
So is it ok to kiss? To walk hand in hand, to put one’s arm around his/her partner in the movies. And by sex are they talking about intercourse or any type of physical contact? And what’s a date anyway. If phone conversations don’t count as dates, what happens if you have phone sex? And how often do you have dates. If a new potential partner sees you every day or twice a week, or only once a week, it will take anywhere from 20 days to 20 weeks to sleep with him? Sure, you will get to know each other better, but in the meantime he is probably sleeping with someone else, or you are masturbating like crazy and starting to worry whether reality will match your fantasy. Yes, there are some relationships that actually develop after going to bed on the first or second date, but they are far and few in this Israeli dating world, unless it is a relationship that is mainly sexually oriented, and then why do we care if they like pets, children, are bachelors or divorced. I recently fell for an intelligent non-smoking divorced man who has one child and he only wanted a sexual relationship. I thought, what a waste. If I want only a sexual relationship, that’s what bachelors are for? What a waste of a divorced man with a child.
I am looking for a partner and potential father figure for my son, as well as a friend and a lover. For lover, I would prefer an old friend, a “yeziz”. (Combination of the Hebrew word ‘yedid’ (friend) and ziyun (fuck). (In the tv program they call them “Fuck Buddies”). Good friends that sleep together are much safer than new ones. For the yezizim, I know where things stand. I know we can’t ever really be a couple and then I don’t have to worry about emotional attachment and can have “sex netto”, as I’ve heard this type of relationship being referred to.
This writer has yet to wait 20 dates. She hasn’t even had a third date in months.
originally created as column 4, September, 2000
Despite our supposedly modern society, and even those enough intelligent enough to use condoms and get periodic HIV tests, many of us still agree that one does not go to bed on the first date. So the question is, on what date is it ok to go to bed? There seems to be some consensus that the fourth date is passable but that the fifth or sixth is more respectable, and others say waiting for 20 dates is a real test of spiritual awareness and restraint.
So is it ok to kiss? To walk hand in hand, to put one’s arm around his/her partner in the movies. And by sex are they talking about intercourse or any type of physical contact? And what’s a date anyway. If phone conversations don’t count as dates, what happens if you have phone sex? And how often do you have dates. If a new potential partner sees you every day or twice a week, or only once a week, it will take anywhere from 20 days to 20 weeks to sleep with him? Sure, you will get to know each other better, but in the meantime he is probably sleeping with someone else, or you are masturbating like crazy and starting to worry whether reality will match your fantasy. Yes, there are some relationships that actually develop after going to bed on the first or second date, but they are far and few in this Israeli dating world, unless it is a relationship that is mainly sexually oriented, and then why do we care if they like pets, children, are bachelors or divorced. I recently fell for an intelligent non-smoking divorced man who has one child and he only wanted a sexual relationship. I thought, what a waste. If I want only a sexual relationship, that’s what bachelors are for? What a waste of a divorced man with a child.
I am looking for a partner and potential father figure for my son, as well as a friend and a lover. For lover, I would prefer an old friend, a “yeziz”. (Combination of the Hebrew word ‘yedid’ (friend) and ziyun (fuck). (In the tv program they call them “Fuck Buddies”). Good friends that sleep together are much safer than new ones. For the yezizim, I know where things stand. I know we can’t ever really be a couple and then I don’t have to worry about emotional attachment and can have “sex netto”, as I’ve heard this type of relationship being referred to.
This writer has yet to wait 20 dates. She hasn’t even had a third date in months.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Post 3: Working on our relationship
originally created as column 3, September, 2000
Child educators say to call a spade a spade. That means a penis a penis, a vagina a vagina, etc. etc. Yet some people still have a problem or are embarrassed to call body parts by their rightful name or even having sex by its name. Having sex, making love, screwing, fucking, fornication, sleeping together, “knowing in the Biblical sense” “were intimate” “were romantic”.
The intimacy one I love. I mean you can have sex without being intimate at all, without knowing your partner’s last name, or how many sugars he takes in his coffee. Does he drink coffee? Does he offer you coffee? Ok – but we’ll leave that for “how many dates to wait” chapter. My friend, married about a year, found a solution to talk about sex without giving it away completely. When she has sex with her husband, she refers to it to “working on her relationship”. So if I’ve called late at night and her answering machine is on, yet I had spoken to her only a half-hour earlier and I didn’t think she was going out anywhere, chances are she is working on her relationship. Or when I ask couples how their weekends are or what they did on Saturday and they say “nothing”, then I know that they are also “working on their relationship”.
This writer wouldn’t mind an entire weekend to work on her relationship, if she had one to work on.
originally created as column 3, September, 2000
Child educators say to call a spade a spade. That means a penis a penis, a vagina a vagina, etc. etc. Yet some people still have a problem or are embarrassed to call body parts by their rightful name or even having sex by its name. Having sex, making love, screwing, fucking, fornication, sleeping together, “knowing in the Biblical sense” “were intimate” “were romantic”.
The intimacy one I love. I mean you can have sex without being intimate at all, without knowing your partner’s last name, or how many sugars he takes in his coffee. Does he drink coffee? Does he offer you coffee? Ok – but we’ll leave that for “how many dates to wait” chapter. My friend, married about a year, found a solution to talk about sex without giving it away completely. When she has sex with her husband, she refers to it to “working on her relationship”. So if I’ve called late at night and her answering machine is on, yet I had spoken to her only a half-hour earlier and I didn’t think she was going out anywhere, chances are she is working on her relationship. Or when I ask couples how their weekends are or what they did on Saturday and they say “nothing”, then I know that they are also “working on their relationship”.
This writer wouldn’t mind an entire weekend to work on her relationship, if she had one to work on.
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