I'm Macca-Famous?!?! Oh Dear...

Oh my.

I didn't think my recent little joke-post about the Maccabeats with the cutesy availability picture I whipped up would turn into such a big deal.

Well, now I'm linked, along with the now-infamous picture, on the Jerusalem Post's regular pop-culture segment called The Weekly Schmooze.

Um, hello world?

And here I was wistfully wondering when I'd surpass 40,000 hits, knowing that I went to sleep last night about 500 short. I was also pondering the notion of having a contest with a prize for the 40,000th hit, but I guess that'd be pretty moot at this point. Maybe I'll do it when Shades of Grey reaches 50,000 hits? That is a little more monumental anyway.

I guess it's a good thing I'm married, cuz I have no doubt that this is Bad for Shidduchim.

UPDATE 2/10/11 - Now the post is linked on Frum Satire...

My, What Rosy Colored Glasses You Have

Recently, a popular subject of discussion on Bad For Shidduchim has been pet peeves caused by roommates/spouses that crop up and lead to bouts of annoyance and frustration for those sharing the same living space (I wrote about this somewhat extensively here). Granted, behaviors such as noisy phone calls or other activities that disturb sleep are quite unwelcome, but other things, such as hanging the toilet paper in the under or over-hand fashion and how one chooses to squeeze the toothpaste tube, seem quite innocuous.

I can understand how maddening it can be if you step all over clipped toenails littering the floor, encounter shaved hair strewn about the bathroom sink, or dirty clothes piled up in various corners of a room instead of the hamper, but are the manners of utilizing/preparing toothpaste and toilet paper so offensive?

While both ASoG and I squeeze the toothpaste from the top or middle, the concept of being provoked by an alternate squeezing method is just absurd. I can empathize if the person squeezes the tube from the middle until applying pressure from that area no longer produces anything to brush his/her teeth with, and instead of wisely squeezing from the bottom to use the rest contained within, decides to throw out the whole thing. That’s ridiculous and wasteful, like trying to cram a square peg into a circular opening and giving up when the square opening is one slot over. And if you really are bugged beyond your limitation of tolerance for this sort of thing – just use two different toothpaste tubes, and shalom al Yisrael.

Regarding hanging toilet paper, I prefer over-hand, while ASoG generally tends to hang under-hand out of habit, not preference. While I find that hanging over-handed makes the toilet paper more accessible, whenever I notice that ASoG inserted a new roll “upside down” (to my mind), I simply flip it over. She doesn’t seem to mind my reversal, and everyone wins.

As a side note, can anyone explain to me the reason why hanging toilet paper under-handed is at all beneficial? You end up having to reach into the recessed area of the holder to find the detached end if there isn’t any paper overtly visible, whereas the overhand method always presents the free end to the user.

Everything in life has its proper use and time. I wrote about this a while ago in reference to being single versus being married, with a tie-in to the concept found in Koheles. In this post, I want to address the idea of viewing life through rose-tinged glasses, as the saying goes.

In dating, viewing your prospective mate through the filtered lens of the “rose-tinged glasses” is a huge mistake. Firstly, you could easily overlook major red flags that would be deal breakers and make your life as a married person utterly miserable, possibly to the point of needing a to break an engagement or have a divorce, Rachmana latzlan.

I always thought it was interesting that “red” flags could be so easily masked by this “rosy” frame of view.

Additionally, you need to be fully aware as many of those little nit-picky, potentially annoying quirks that your date possesses. Why, might you ask? Because you need to have an honest conversation with yourself to determine if you can live with these idiosyncrasies, because they aren’t going anywhere once you give/receive that wedding band under the chuppah. I say “as many of” because it’s impossible to know everything about the person, including some of their eccentricities, until you are living as husband and wife.

And yet, that is where the rose-tinged glasses are entirely appropriate.

Once you’re tied the knot, thus making one of the biggest (if not the biggest) decisions of your life, you need to don those pinkish lenses to filter out the little things that pop up here and there and focus on the greater picture of the wonderful person you married. After you’ve seen everything that’s truly important, such what his/her personality is, how he/she handles stress, expresses anger and disappointment, who his/her friends and family are and how he/she relates to them, not to mention hashkafos, level of religious commitment, and views on future lifestyle and child rearing, you know in your heart that you want to spent the rest of your life with this wonderful person. At that point, both husband and wife need to back off focusing on the little things, which truly have no real significance in the overall functioning of their marriage.

I’m not talking about harmful habits, or things that disturb one’s emotional/psychological peace, or undermines their health and wellbeing. I’m referring to all those “pet peeves,” which can be sensitively addressed – as long as both partners are willing to work together, one being patient, encouraging and understanding, while the other proactive, determined to work on his/herself, and willing to accept making a mistake or two on the road to improvement.

Yes, things have come up here and there in the few months that ASoG and I have been married, and most times we have successfully negotiated a compromise that worked out for both of us. In a few instances, certain issues have led to more heated discussions, but the attitude of perceiving the other person for the sum total of amazing things that made us want to marry the other has prevailed in the end. That is one of the key lessons to be learned and applied to have an effective and successful marriage.

So while you are still single, find out as much as you possibly can about the other person’s habits, good and bad. Talk to roommates, former roommates, and ex-roommates to inquire about your personal concerns in a spouse (the difference between the last two is where one graduated/got married/moved away and the other left because they couldn’t stand living with the guy/gal).

Once you are married, it behooves you to see the forest, not the trees, and appreciate your spouse for all the positive, heartwarming things that brought you together in the first place and made the idea of marriage a welcome one in your mind and heart.

If you find yourself still “in the parsha,” stash those rose-colored glasses away. If you’re already married, bring ‘em out and wear them 24/7 – both you and your spouse will be happier for it. Get all googly-eyed and wistful, sigh in ardor when your mind wafts to thoughts of your beloved – in short, do all that stuff that you used to do when you were dating and what should be bottled up and stored for use after sheva brachos are over (and sometimes, even during sheva brachos, considering how stressful they often are).

May everyone use their own personal pair of rose-tinted glasses at the right time and with the right person!

Yet Another Marriage Segulah!?

Segulos for marriage - everyone's heard of them. Bad for Shidduchim has chronicled quite a few, but I heard a new one tonight from my Rav that I don't think has been mentioned anywhere before.

Everyone (or mostly everyone) has heard of the famous segulah for a single girl to hold the candle at havdallah. The segulah is even size-specific, since she should hold the candle at the height she would like her future husband to be.

However, has anyone ever heard of a segulah involving the havdallah wine? Nope, I'm not talking about drinking it.

Rather, akin to the practice of dipping one's fingers into the post extinguishment wine and dabbing it over the eyes (for healthy vision), the forehead (for seichel), on the back of the neck (the location of the luz bone, necessary for the resurrection of the dead), or the pockets (for parnassa) - a single girl dips her fingertip into the wine and dabs in on her left ring finger, in the hopes that it will be a segulah that a real ring should find its way there soon.

I'd never heard anyone mention/write about this particular marriage segulah, but my Rav mentioned that he knows of several single girls who do this, so I figure it might be worth something.

Any readers out there know of/practice this very interesting segulah?

Invasion of The Cradle Snatchers

Suri was beside herself with grief. She threw her cell phone across her bedroom, where it crashed into the wall. The back compartment popped off and the battery skittered somewhere under her bed. Yet another shadchan had told her the dreaded line she had grown to expect and hate at the same time:

“I’m so sorry dear. You’re just too old for what the boys are interested in these days.”

Merely thinking about that stuck up, know-it-all, tone of voice echoing in her head made Suri ball her hand into a fist and punch her pillow. She wished she could just gather up all these inconsiderate old ladies wearing ill-fitting black dresses, outrageously expensive, badly styled sheitels, topped off with enough makeup to make a clown envious, and wring all their necks one-by-one.

Who were they to tell her that she was “too old?” What right did they have to determine what the age limit was for eligibility, declaring, seemingly at random, that certain girls were “over-the-hill” and no longer acceptable for shidduchim? Why did they get to make the rules that decide when girls were “out of the game?”

A squeal emanating from the hallway interrupted Suri’s outraged ruminations. Chaya, Suri’s younger sister, abruptly poked her head into Suri’s room, smiling ear to ear.

“Guess what!?” Chaya asked, her eyes wide with excitement. Suri simply scowled in return, since she already knew what Chaya was going to say.

“Pray tell.”

Chaya’s face contorted in confusion, “What does that mean?”

Suri sighed in frustration, rolled her eyes, and replied “What?”

“I just got a call from Mrs. Frumkelshtein! I have a date with that cute Mandelbaum boy from down the block.”

Suri’s eyes bulged out in shock, while an angry vein rose to the surface of her skin and began to pulsate on her forehead. “She gave you the Mandelbaum boy!? ARGH!” She exclaimed in frustration, as the remaining shreds of her dan lekaf zechus thoughts evaporated into thin air.

“Um, did I say something wrong?” Chaya clutched the door frame tightly, her voice apprehensive.

“No, no. Run along now,” Suri replied through gritted teeth and waved her off.

“‘Kay!” Chaya spun on her heel and skipped down the hallway.

This was unforgiveable. How in the world could that witch turn Suri down in favor of her own little sister? Where was the sensitivity, the decency? Especially considering the fact that she practically hung up on Suri and dialed Chaya’s number seconds later! Did that conceited old lady not realize what kind of abuse she was piling on top of the heartache she already caused? Suri wrung a pillow between her hands, so furious that she almost felt the steam jetting out her ears.

A soft knock announced a more welcome visitor. Looking up, Suri saw her mother hovering in the hall, barely allowing her face to appear in the space left by the door Chaya had left ajar.

“Hi, Ema.”

“How are you, Suri?” She smiled slightly, raising her eyebrows as a request to enter. Suri nodded her head, and her mother gently closed the door behind her. “I’m sorry about Chaya’s impoliteness. You know she’s very young and still doesn’t quite understand how to handle delicate emotional situations.”

“Then why is she dating, Ema? Don’t you think going out to get married requires more than a little maturity?” Suri emphasized her point by holding up a hand and pretending to grasp a small object between her index finger and thumb.

“Well, we couldn’t really wait any longer, sweetheart. It was time for her to start.”

“Uh huh, right. That’s what doesn’t make any sense to me, why would Mrs. Frumkelshtein say I’m too old to cut it, then turn right around and call Chaya?”

Ema sat down on the edge of the bed, “That’s just the way boys are and always have been. They want the youngest, most attractive girls out there.”

“Ema, Chaya is a child!” Suri pouted. “She hasn’t even gone off to a seminary in Israel yet!”

“But that’s the new thing these days, you know,” Ema said. “Girls get married and kill two birds with one stone by having a double ‘shana aleph.’” She rested her jaw on an outstretched hand. “I think it’s kind of cute, actually.”

“Okay, that might make some sense.” To someone who’s utterly whacked out, Suri added silently. “But Chaya isn’t even close to that. She still plays Pokémon on her Gameboy and collects Beanie Babies!”

“Look, everyone is allowed to have a hobby or two. For example, you make sculptures and play the viola.”

“You’re mixing apples and oranges, Ema. My hobbies are entirely grown up and age-appropriate. They represent my artistic expression and serve as a means of personal and spiritual inspiration. Y’know, just the sort of thing a person of marriageable age should bring to the table,” Suri puffed out her chest a little, willing to let her ego have its way for a moment.

“But guys are also looking for the youthful, vivacious type – someone who can get out there and be competitive at the arcade or relate to a sports memorabilia obsession –which Chaya definitely personifies.”

Suri sighed. “Ema, you’re missing the point. There is no reason why a well put together, attractive young woman such as myself can’t get a decent suggestion, let alone one that would go out with me. I’m not a person that believes in the whole “size matters” shtick, but I honestly am slim and fit. What does Chaya have that I don’t!?”

“Well, honey, Chaya is four years younger than you, after all.”

“Ema! She’s fifteen!” Suri all-but-shouted.

“That’s right,” Ema nodded in agreement. “And she’s going to get her learner’s permit next month. She is a big girl now.”

“Ema, really?” Suri threw an incredulous look at her mother. “Come on-”

“My baby’s all grown up now,” Suri’s mother clasped her hands together next to her cheek. “Soon she’ll be a married woman and mother,” she sniffed back a tear.

“Yeah, yeah,” Suri sighed.

Ema suddenly bolted upright. “Wait-a-minute! If Chaya is going to be a mother, then that makes me a grandmother.” She looked like a deer caught in a truck’s headlights. “But I’m too young to be a grandmother! We’re still part of the younger couple’s minyan at shul!” She began to hyperventilate.

“Ema, really, I don’t think you have anything to worry about just yet,” Suri offered in a conciliatory tone.

Gripped by terror, Ema ignored Suri completely. “What are the kids going to call me? Grandma? Bubbe? Savta? Savti?” She paused just long enough to suck in a few gulps of air. “I-I never gave this any significant thought…!” She shook her head in an attempt to ward off her nerves. “Abba and I must discuss this right away!”

“What about me!?” Suri called after her, as Ema sprang from the bed and flew down the hall. The rapid pounding of her feet on the carpet faded into silence, and Suri was left alone yet again. “What about me?” She repeated mournfully to no one in particular.

“What about you, sweetums?” A manly voiced intoned from the doorway.

Suri’s head jerked up in surprise. “Oh! Abba, you can come in. I’m just sitting here all by my lonesome, stewing in my personal misery.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Abba sauntered in and gingerly closed the door. “What’s bothering you, Suri?”

“That insufferable shadchan called Chaya and gave her the boy that I was going to go out with. Can you believe it!?”

“My, she really is a nasty piece of work, that Mrs. Frumkelshtein,” Abba crossed his arms over his chest and leaned on the wall nearest the bed. “She hasn’t changed in decades, let me tell you.”

Suri lifted an eyebrow cautiously, “What, you mean to tell me she used to redt shidduchim for you and your friends?”

“Yup. The woman is ancient. I heard she once tried to redt a shidduch to Lincoln,” he chuckled.

Suri laughed along. “Abba, Abraham Lincoln wasn’t Jewish!”

“Oh I know, darling. It was the first name that got her. That woman is utterly ridiculous and always has been.”

“I’m glad to know I have someone on my side about this,” Suri smiled. “By the way, Ema was looking for you a moment ago.”

“Oh, I heard her dashing around in one of her freaked out moods again, so I hid in the linen closet until she went down the stairs. I can detect those coming a mile away by now,” he tapped his temple, reveling in his daughter’s giggles. “You’ll learn all about little incongruities like that when you’ve been married for twenty years.”

Suri’s mood took a downturn, “If I ever get married.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t worry about that just yet. You’ve got plenty of time before you get to join that old spinsters’ Mah Jong club at the shul.”

“They really have those things?”

“I just read about it in the weekly Jewish newspaper. However, I did notice they keep dropping the minimum age for admission.”

Suri hesitated for a moment before asking, “What is at now?”

“In the past month they’ve lowered it to twenty five,” he replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

Suri’s eyes widened in disbelief, “That means I have only six more years until I’m a spinster! This is a nightmare! I’ll never get married!” Suri wiped the first few tears streaming down her face with her palm. “At this rate, I may as well ask them if I can just join now and get it over with!” She began sobbing.

Sensing his gaff, Abba quickly plunked down next to his overwrought daughter and put an arm around her shoulder. Suri buried her face in his sweater and began soaking it tears. Swallowing hard, Abba wracked his brain for a moment.

“Ah, that’s what it was,” he jabbed a finger in the air emphatically.

“‘That’s what’ what was?” Suri asked, her voice muffled by argyle.

“I remembered the reason I came here to talk to you in the first place. There is a boy that wants to go out with you.”

Suri froze mid-sniffle. “Hold the phone, there’s a boy asking to go out with me?!”

“Yup,” Abba noticed the twinkle of hope in his eldest daughter’s eyes and smiled warmly. Suri pulled back from her father’s embrace and sat up straight, briefly rubbing her sleeve across her nose.

After composing herself, Suri asked, “So nu? Tell me some details!”

Her father raised a fist and coughed into it awkwardly. “Okay, but let me finish before you say anything.”

“Well, that sounds great already,” Suri interjected.

Abba held up both opened hands in front of defensively, “Please, just hear me out, and then comment.”

“Sure. Please go ahead.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Gold called this morning saying that her son really wanted to go out with you. She thinks it’s a good idea and wants to try and arrange the shidduch.”

Confused, Suri gave a thumbs up and flipped it over a few times to see if she could talk yet, and Abba nodded his permission. “You mean Dov, my friend Shira’s really handsome older brother?” She inquired expectantly.

“Not quite, he got engaged a week ago. It’s Izzy.”

Suri pursed her lips tightly, trying to find her train of thought. “Izzy. As in Shira’s little brother?”

Abba sensed her apprehension “…that’d be the one.” He too obviously began to glance around the room and started to whistle.

“Izzy, the one who’s only sixteen? Who’s only a grade above Chaya and always wears that kippa with the puffy paint Mets logo on it?”

“That would be him.”

“The same Izzy who just won the state science fair for his project on the ecology of compost heaps?”

“Now, that was really impressive, you’ve got to admit.”

“Little Izzy Gold, who scraped his knee on our driveway when he was learning to ride his bicycle?”

“Now sweetie, that wasn’t his fault. You know those bushes on our semi-circle driveway can be a bit misleading on that initial curve-”

“I’m having a bit of a hard time grasping this, if you can’t tell,” Suri declared. She closed her eyes, and after a calming breath looked at her father. “Did he have the usual list of obnoxiously invasive questions that I have to answer every single time, revealing each and every last secret about me?”

“Actually, that was the refreshing part, he only asked one.”

“Really, what was it?”

The door abruptly swung open with such force that it bounced off the wall, leaving a small dent. “Where’s your father!?” Ema demanded hysterically.

“Ah! Ema, he was just-” Suri felt a tug on her ankle and allowed her gaze to dip downward. Abba huddled beneath her bed, holding a finger to his lips. “Going to go grocery shopping, that’s right,” she concluded. She firmed her voice and added, “He said he’d be back in about an hour.”

“Well, at least he’s out doing something useful. The minute he gets back we have to have a serious talk about where we want Chaya’s children to go to high school.”

“Sure thing, Ema. I’m sure he’ll be looking forward to it,” Suri flashed a very unconvincing grin. Ema whirled around while shutting the door in the same coordinated motion. Abba crept out from under the bed, stood up, and stretched his back.

“That was a close one. Good cover, by the way,” he bent over and touched his toes a few times.

“Thanks. I don’t envy you that upcoming conversation, though.”

“Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll worry about it in an hour,” he glanced at his watch.

“Back on topic… so what’s the question that Izzy asked about me?”

Abba reached up and loosened his collar a bit. “Well…”

“Did he want to know if I wore sneakers when I work out?”

“Nope.”

“If Ema uses a plastic table cover on Shabbos?”

“Negative.”

Suri tried again, “What my dress size was?”

“Sort of…” Abba trailed off.

“What do you mean ‘sort of?’”

Clearly embarrassed, Abba dithered, linked his fingers together and stared at the ceiling. “Hmmm, it seems I need to change one of the light bulbs in your chandelier, I better get on that right away.”

“Abba. Please stop stalling. What did he ask?”

“He wanted to know your, um, cup size,” Abba recoiled as though preparing to be struck.

“WHAT?!” Suri thundered.

Abba started speaking a mile a minute. “That was the only question. He basically knows everything about you and us from your friendship with Shira and the dozens of shabbos meals we’ve spent at each other’s homes. He’s seen you in a natural setting, with friends and family, even when things went wrong like that time you spilled the whole chulent dish on your lap and that other time when it rained and your hair looked like a drowned terrier. That was the one thing he simply didn’t have a clue about, and I figured; ‘What’s the harm in asking?’ Especially since it’s such a simple, mostly innocuous inquiry in the first place, right? And-”

“I can’t believe that little twerp had the guts to ask that! His mind is so completely submerged in the gutter, just like every other hormone-driven, full-of-himself, egotistical, skirt-chasing guy out there! Why in the world would I even consider going out with someone as depraved as that!?”

“Honestly, Suri, I think you’re missing something here.”

“And just what is that Abba?”

“The boy is only sixteen. What else does he think about?”

Suri stopped mid-rant. “You actually have a point.”

“And besides that one semi-objectionable question – which I might add parenthetically, is a question that every guy has on his mind in the first place, even if he doesn’t actually ask it – you both have a lot in common,” Abba began counting on his fingers. “He plays the cello, makes Jewish-themed mosaics, is a serious straight A student, and wants to go into bio-research.” Abba put the last finger back down, “Well, I don’t know if you can include that one just yet, since he doesn’t have his high school diploma.”

Suri felt her indignation give way to an unusual burst of whimsy welling up within her. “What the heck, why not?”

“Really?” Abba flinched, clearly expecting a flat-out rejection. “I can call Mrs. Gold back and let her know it’s on?” He asked excitedly.

“Sure. Who knows, maybe he’ll turn out to be that magical, special someone,” Suri remarked half-sarcastically.

“I’ll get on it right away!” Abba jumped up and closed the door on his way out.

“This is going to be an interesting experience,” Suri thought aloud.

A moment later, Abba poked his head back in. “You know, my Aunt Gertrude is three years older than Uncle Shloime, and just look how happy they are!”

“Abba, I said ‘yes’ already!” Suri replied in exasperation.

“Okey-dokie, smokey-rokie!” Abba quipped as he disappeared from view.

Suri allowed herself a little smile at the humor of the entire situation, wondering if she had any idea what she had just agreed to. But then again, who knows what might happen, good or bad? It was worth a shot.

Re: Objectification of Me

I wrote this as a response to Bad4's latest post about providing pictures for shidduchim, and figured it was long enough to be an actual post of its own:

It is very true, as many have noted, that physical attraction is not only necessary for the relationship, but significant enough in many cases to determine whether someone may find the suggested candidate attractive enough to date.

One of the biggest issues is that shadchanim/wanna-be-match-makers are not honest, or not totally honest, in describing a person's physical features. Due to this liability, pictures are requested. Often, as others have noted here, the pictures themselves are not reliable due to the staged nature (extra make up, professional picture, etc) or the flawed aspects of the photograph make the person seem less attractive than they actually are.

As a side point, particularly since this happened to me several times when I was dating: why in the world would ANYONE want to have an unattractive picture of him/herself available for the purpose of evaluation regarding shidduchim? I saw dozens of YUConnects profiles with girls who haphazardly slapped up some cropped, unflattering Facebook picture. I was surprised on more than one occasion that the girl was more attractive than her photo depicted. If you want a date, don't pass around a bad picture of you! Get multiple opinions from people you know and trust to approve the worthiness of a particular picture before it gets out there for general evaluation.

Back on topic: So we're basically stuck with a double sense of falsehood. Descriptions are incomplete or wrong, so we ask for a picture, but asking for a picture is insulting and also often misleading. The option to go in "blind" will often lead to numerous disappointments, as some guys have noted. If the looks are a no-go, then the entire venture is a non-starter. That applies to both guys and girls, and girls need to learn to accept that, especially since they don't necessarily focus on looks from the get go as much as a guys often do.

I think there is a clear difference when someone asks for a picture "stam" versus asking for a picture because you can tell they're stuck up, utterly full of him/herself and looking for a supermodel for a spouse. Nobody should have an exact "look" that they absolutely require, because that's simply impossible. Everyone has their own personal likes and dislikes when it comes to appearances, but often these preferences can be lumped into more general categories that paint a fuzzy picture of what is acceptable, thus letting the details remain more open for the actual dating experience.

As I've said many times before on my own blog and comments here [IE Bad for Shidduchim], everyone needs to have a standard of what they find attractive, per those general guidelines I just mentioned, which can include height, facial features, body shape, etc. The only thing a picture should do, and hopefully do accurately is determine if he/she meets that cut-off line in your mind. A short examination of a picture can accomplish that. The same thing is done on a date as well, but the stakes are higher and a greater degree of scrutiny is absolutely necessary, especially if you are determining if you can accept certain imperfections or unique characteristics (this is part of the more specific aspect I mentioned above). For a picture, if the person is "too fat," "too skinny," too this or that, per your personal tastes then you know right off the bat and don't have to go further.

It is NOT fair to jump on someone's back and say they're being too prejudiced against someone because of a decent picture. True, finer elements of a person's features will only be apparent while seeing them in person, but if someone hands me a picture of a girl who was 400 pounds, and I don't find that attractive, no matter how great the quality of the photo, I would say no because that's not what I want. The same thing goes for ANYTHING (not to stereotype against the obese) that a particular person finds unattractive. I had a professor who told us that he couldn't stand red heads when he was dating - and as such, he didn't marry a red head. True, the possibility exists that he could compromise for a particular person, but that would entail further examination. But telling him he's absolutely wrong for having such a strong gut-reaction (based on who knows what) isn't right. In fact, that particular professor even told us about a red head cousin of his who married a guy from Lakewood, and now she wears a dark sheital, because her husband hates red hair (the professor didn't ask what she did around the house/when her hair was uncovered).

At any rate, everyone needs to be honest and up front about looks and pictures. Why can't we just standardize picture usage (like YUConnects does), with EVERYONE providing decent pictures that accurately portray their looks? If someone turns you down that means A) You aren't their physical type, for whatever reason, so deal with it or B) He/she is a shallow jerk who didn't like how your right nostril looked and you're better off not going out with him/her anyway because he/she is stupid.

May everyone find the person who looks the way they would like their spouse to look - and more importantly - find the person who represents all the good qualities required to be a good spouse.

Her Mother Was A WHAT!?!?

For readers who are fans of Monty Python, the answer is not “a hamster.”

A rather crazy notion recently came up during my night seder chevrusa, where we happen to learning Masechta Sotah. On 7B, the Gemara discusses the a contradiction of a braisa to the mishna under examination regarding the beis din trying to intimidate the suspected adulteress into fessing up to her crime, if in fact she was guilty. This was done in order to prevent the erasure of G-d’s name in the creation of the potentially deadly potion that would cause any true Sotah to explode shortly thereafter (or following a delay, but that’s a whole different discussion).

The contradictory braisa that the Gemara quotes says that the beis din would try to intimidate the woman in the opposite direction, namely that she should drink the Sotah water. The Gemara then resolves the seeming contradiction by saying that the beis din tries to intimidate her not to drink before the shem HaShem is erased, to prevent such drastic measures. But once the name has already been erased into the Sotah’s beverage, then they do their best to make sure she does drink so that the erasure of G-d’s name was not done for naught.

Rashi there writes that one of the things the beis din would say to the woman to convince her TO drink was mentioning the concern that she might cast aspersions on her children if she suddenly decides not to drink at that last minute (IE they might be the product of an adulterous relationship and thus mamzerim).

My immediate response (thanks to years of reading Bad4’s blog) was that Rashi was basically saying “it’s bad for shidduchim!” After both my chevrusa and I calmed down from our fit of laughter, we wondered what if such a thing was really an issue nowadays, and how that would dramatically impact the “research” that people do into potential shidduchim candidates.

Forget “her parents are divorced,” “her grandmother was a convert,” “her mother was chozer b’teshuva in college,” and even “her mother doesn’t cover her hair.”

What about: “her mother was a sotah, and y’know… exploded.”

Presume that the suggestion in question was born halachically fine without any problem of mamzerus. Talk about yichus problems...

Think about it.

Pick YOUR Favorite Shidduch Blog Post

Ever read a post about Shidduchim/Dating and thought - "I wish they printed stuff like this in bookform!" Well, your input might now bring that to fruition!

After a round of discussion that I generated on this post at Bad For Shidduchim, Bad for Shidduchim, Frum N' Flipping and I are attempting to cull together the greatest posts related to shidduchim and hopefully create some sort of book for your reading enjoyment.

They really should get all the credit, though - especially Frum N' Flipping for setting this up. I'm just the idea man.

Where can you send in your nominations for what you think is print-worthy?

Right here: The Shidduch Anthology (title TBD).

Yes, you can suggest your own posts (why not, after all?), and *insert shameless self plug* any suggestions of things I've written are greatly appreciated.

We're trying this out to see if we can reach beyond the realm of cyberspace and spread ideas about shidduchim/dating to the general Jewish reading public, including those who may not have access to, or choose not to access, the internet for one reason or another.

One of the main reasons we write/read these things anyway is to give others out there an insight into how the dater "on the ground" thinks about his/her experiences, and how he/she relates to the whole system, with all it's zaniness.

As an avid reader of dating/marriage books, I know I've always wanted to read something like this, but all we really get are "how to guides" of sorts written by either a) shadchanim or b) psychologists/therapists - both of whom are already married and are dispensing the widsom of their positions/history. Granted that these things are wonderful to read about (mostly), it's always nice to have works that reach to you on the same level of existence. That sort of essay/story/expression of opinion/whatever connects more directly to you as a reader because the author is very similar to you and knows first-hand (and not in just the recollective sense) what you're going through.

Plus, there's the whole Shabbos thing and not being able to use my computer to read blogs about dating :)

So scour your favorite posts (I've recently added the search bar and subject tag listing on the ride-hand side of the blog for your browsing convenience) and make your suggestions!

Tell your friends, neighbors, and family! We want your input!

Have a great Shabbos!

P.S. With finals and graduation over (huzzah!), more posts should be forthcoming...

Torah Tours + Shidduch Music Video + Preview Of Future Posts

I've been quite busy the past week. Finals and studying for finals definitely took their toll, as did Shavuos and participating in Torah Tours (in a good way, it was a lot of fun), so I haven't really had time to write/complete any posts. So while I still hammer away at the books for my remaining finals, I threw together a few interesting things to create this post.

First, Torah Tours was a blast! We ran a very successful program, with shiurim, kids activities and divrei Torah, and the community we were sent to absolutely loved us. I highly recommend participating in Torah Tours to any Yeshiva/Stern student, especially those currently dating. You might just meet your bashert, as one of my friends did a few years ago (and they weren't even in the same group, he just gave her a ride to the other shul near where he was stationed). Or, if you're otherwise occupied (like I was) you have the opportunity to meet some really great people of the opposite gender and can practice your social interaction skills. All, or I should say almost all, awkwardness of inter-gender communication, etc. was non-existent (or went away over the course of yom tov) and we all banded together to form a really cohesive team. Someone asked me toward the end of Thursday if we had ever met before a week or two ago when we had the big organizational meeting - and was shocked when I said no. They commented that it seemed like we were all best buddies since high school.

Oh, and there were a TON of in-jokes being born and flying back and forth all weekend, which was all part of the fun. A friend who also went on Torah Tours for Shavuos told me the following story:

Their plane had landed and he was busily texting his girlfriend as he approached the exit door. He thanked the stewardess (who was in her early 30's), and she promptly asked him "Why aren't you texting me?" He replied, innocently enough, "How could I text you when I don't have your number?" The stewardess thought this was a pick-up line and gave him a sassed-up response (complete with side-to-side neck motions).

In Summary: Torah Tours gets two big thumbs up from me.

While looking for a different shidduch-related video on Youtube, I came across this little gem: It's a parody of "Tik Tok" by Ke$ha called "Oy Vey (The Shidduch Crisis)." The lyrics are quite funny, and the overall production is a very on-target critique of "The System." The video has a fairly low number of hits - I'm surprised no one has discovered it before.

As a caveat, the video does feature women singing - though there are no pictures of the artist herself (themselves?). So that means there is a technical heter to view/listen, since the real issur is putting a voice together with a face, which could then produced bad thoughts (I learned an Igros Moshe that discussed this point with my madrich when I was on NCSY Kollel, though I can't seem to find it at the moment). Plus, it's also "auto-tuned" so it isn't exactly the artist's real voice at any rate...

Perhaps this should be included in Bad4's Shidduchim: The Musical?

Lastly, for a preview of posts yet to be completed/published:

A review of "I Only Want To Get Married Once" by Chana Levitan (a great book!). They even have a Kindle version (does anyone have one?).

A Dating Case Study of Barnes and Noble, akin to the one I did about Dave and Buster's.

Based on a post at Bad For Shidduchim, I'm going to write up a fake version of a realistically informative profile using a template a friend gave me (which also serves as the format for my own profile).

In short: The whole debate over the usefulness of "profiles" or *shudder* "resumes" is getting really annoying, in my opinion. If daters want profiles to be worthwhile, then WRITE SOMETHING on them!!! The same thing goes for the YUConnects/Saw You at Sinai profiles, where people write all of 2-3 sentences about who they are and what they're looking for. Everyone always complains how it's so hard to concisely write these things down, so I say: write MORE. Give the shadchan/friend/potential date something that is worth reading and will actually tell them something about you and what you want our of a marriage partner. I honestly never seriously consider someone who tells me so little about herself on her profile. Why even send me the profile when I can get the same information in a 5 minute phone conversation with your reference? In my view, the profile should be the best possible presentation of who you really are, with lots of details. After reading a profile, the interested party should legitimately know to a reasonable degree if a date is shayach or not, rather than Bad4's dilemma from the above post.

Anyway, that's all for now!

P.S. (added at 4:40 PM): It turns out that another girl I went out with got engaged recently! I think that's #3. Mazal Tov!

Awkward Dating Moment #1

I’ve seen other bloggers write posts on awkward moments that occur during dates, so I won’t try to replicate and explicate on what has already been said. I also don’t think I can write anything comprehensive enough to cover the gamut of embarrassing, gauche moments that crop up from time to time while out on the town with your young lady/man companion. Instead, I will post short snippets of specific events that I have experienced or heard about from friends. I hope to cover topics that have not been mentioned before, but there may be some retreading of issues discussed elsewhere.

So consider this a new “feature” or “series” if you will.

Anyway, onto Awkward Dating Moment (ADM) #1: Walking into the turnstile in the subway.

Picture this: the guy has met his date and they are heading to the subway to travel to the previously determined activity/location. When they reach the turnstile, the guy can either:

a) swipe his card and go through first, then pass the card back for his date to swipe.

Or

b) he could swipe for her, let her proceed through, and then swipe for himself.

In either situation, imagine the impossible happening: the guy attempts to pass through the turnstile, having inconveniently forgotten to swipe the card, which may or may not be in his hand at that moment. So instead of gracefully passing through to join his date on the other side, or quickly entering the subway and handing his card back to her to swipe, he repeatedly and unsuccessfully bangs into the non-moving turnstile.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

Eventually he figures out the dilemma himself through some miracle/revelation, or he gets the hint from the angry mutterings of other subway goers behind him. Once clued in, he sheepishly corrects his mistake and the date continues on.

I have done this once or twice. For some reason it seems most likely to occur when I have just refilled my metro card moments before, after which I accidentally tucked it back in my wallet with my credit card, which was then returned to my pocket. I have also bumped into the turnstile while literally holding the metro card, but that, thankfully, wasn’t on a date. Not once has my date pointed out my error to me while I’m actively embarrassing myself, though I will often make some self deprecating remark afterward (in spite of the fact that they are greatly discouraged). This gives me a chance to laugh at the incident and move on with the evening’s proceedings, which will hopefully provide my date with good reasons to forget my blunder.

P.S. While the recent link on Bad For Shidduchim’s blog to my newest story has generated a large increase in hits (we've passed the 10,000 mark, huzza!), my counter indicates that the vast majority (63.8%) of the “readers” spend less than 5 seconds on this blog. I find that a bit depressing, especially when the percentage of people who used to spend larger amounts of time on the blog composed the larger total of overall hits (for example, the 1 hour+ category was around 34-40%, and has now dropped to 17.3% with other categories also decreasing a lot).

This ties into another pet-peeve of mine: comments. Prior to the recent explosion of hits (thanks Bad4!) there were large numbers of people spending significant amounts of time (20 minutes or more) reading the blog. But very few seem to take the time to comment. Just to clarify, I’m definitely not looking for ego boosters of a bajillion comments that say “Ur post is da bom!” or “Great post!” But I would like to know if the things that I write make people think generate discussion of the issues I raise. I am very appreciative of those who DO comment and as questions/engage in dialogue (keep 'em coming!), I just wish more of y’all would do so.

[Edit as of 3:53 PM = ESPECIALLY the stories! How can a story get over 200 hits, mostly from being directly linked, and not a single comment!?]

In conclusion, if you have the time (and I know we’re all busy these days) please leave a comment every now and then – let’s get some meaningful discussion going. I’ll take all the constructive feedback I can get.

Have a great Shabbos!

Shades Of Grey On A First Date

Just a warning: I’m a very thorough writer (in case you hadn’t noticed), so this is a long post. I hope the readers find it informative and enjoyable. So grab a drink or snack and read on, dear visitor.

After reading Bored Jewish Guy's original post (and challenge) regarding the male perspective of a first date, followed by (not) The Girl Next Door’s female viewpoint, along with Bad For Shidduchim’s call for other bloggers to participate (and their diversified posts), I’ve decided to throw my hat into the ring.

To start off, one of the reasons I think that it’s worthwhile to participate in this creative exercise, aside from the fun I derive from blogging, is because I presume my entry will be a bit different from most others out there. Particularly, since I am an out-of-towner, far from home, living in the YU dorms without a car (by choice), I don’t fit the typical sort of male dater model that most posts have written about.

Preparation

My pre-date prep usually begins about an hour before I depart my dorm room, which is often two hours before the actual date start time – taking into account the subway ride into the Times Square area (more on that later). More recently, I’ve actually dated a few girls who live on the other side of The Heights, which then shifts my preparation to the hour beforehand. I shave, shower, and brush my teeth. I also utilize the time spent taking care of my oral hygiene to pick through my clothing and finalize my outfit.

I admit to having no real sense of style, so my generic dating attire includes black or (on occasion) dark navy slacks with a solid colored, long-sleeved, button-down shirt. In the fall and winter I will also pick a matching sweater, and I have a specific, medium-length black overcoat I wear in colder weather. In general, I also happen to have particular items of clothing that are set aside exclusively for dating, since everyday clothing, including Shabbos clothing, tends to get worn down with repeated use, so I sidestep that by having a belt and pair of shoes I only wear on dates. This keeps my belt buckle and shoes nice, shiny, and unscratched/un-scuffed.

I also don my nicer pair of glasses (which are otherwise worn on Shabbos/Yom Tov and at weddings and are also less beaten up), which have been variably been frameless or half-frame. I very infrequently wear contacts, despite the comments I get from family members (thanks, Mom) that I look much handsomer without glasses. So while I don’t have a first date outfit, I usually pick between two or three colors for my shirt/sweater combo.

After I’ve gotten dressed, I make sure I have my room keys, cell phone, wallet containing subway card, credit card, and around $100 in cash (just in case) and a little sticky-note that has a list of Starbucks in the general Times Square area. I have one or two that I specifically favor, but it has sometimes occurred that my first choice had no free tables or, on occasion, that the bathroom was non-operational. Hence, I make sure to know the addresses of several nearby stores to function as a fallback plan. I empathize with Bored Jewish Guy’s concern for wallet-bulge syndrome, and empty out all unnecessary receipts and change. If I am not meeting the girl in The Heights and thus going with her to and from the date, I will also bring my iPod.

Additionally, in case of inclement weather, I will bring two mini umbrellas (the good, more expensive kind with the double hinged arms which will bend and revert back instead of breaking when exposed to the winds of NY rainy days), one for me, and one to offer my date, should she need/want one.

Side Point Regarding First Date Venues and General Etiquette

Begin Rant.

Before going any further, I have to get some things off my chest. After reading the other first date posts published thus far, I am appalled to learn that guys are so haphazard with planning their activity prior to a date. It is extremely troublesome to read that other guys out there don’t inform their date where they intend to take them, thus leaving the girls stuck wondering if they should eat beforehand, or what they should eat, and what they should wear, etc. That seems utterly irresponsible and very ungentlemanly. The very idea of asking a girl when she firsts enters the car if she is hungry or not is, in my eyes, offensively insensitive! She’s nervous enough as it is (as is the guy), why forcibly induce more awkwardness?!

One of my rabbeim in Israel very strongly related in his dating shiurim that a guy should not starve the girl under any circumstance. This means one of two things:

1) If they are going out at a standard meal-time on a non-food date, then he should tell her to eat something beforehand.
2) He should be conscious enough to realize that if he has dragged her around walking for some extended period of time that she might be thirsty, or if the date has lasted a number of hours since her pre-date snack/meal, he should offer to get her something to sate her growing hunger.

In every first phone call I have ever had, aside from generic small talk, I always give my date specific information about what my plan is for the date. Sometimes due to scheduling or whatever we end up going to a restaurant instead of Starbucks since dinnertime was the most convenient timeframe for going out. I’ll tell her the exact restaurant and make sure she knows if it is milchig or fleischig, and I will offer an alternative or two just in case she isn’t such a fan of that particular establishment.

I don’t feel so qualified to comment about the driving tendencies of my fellow males, since I’ve driven on all of two dates (my first two dates in fact, back in my hometown, two years ago). I also drive like an “out-of-towner” which seems to mean I keep to the speed limit and obeying all traffic signs/lights. I will say this, however: parallel parking is one of the banes of my existence (along with window blinds) and I totally messed up my attempt to parallel park on my first date.

Nevertheless, why do guys drive like madmen!? Fine if you want to take your own life in your hands when you are out driving, but doing anything risky when you have any passengers, ESPECIALLY the woman you might end up marrying, is really irresponsible. I’ve heard quotes in the name of Rav Nebenzahl, shlita that following the proper traffic laws is an absolute chiyuv for public safety and as part of the kiyum of dina d’malchusa dina.

Regarding cab protocol: hailing a cab isn’t so difficult, even for an outlander like me. Second, it just makes perfect sense that a guy should get in the cab (and I got this from a Commentator article on dating). Aside from the uncomfortable visual trespassing opportunity many have mentioned, this writer for the Commie said it prevents the girl from having to slide across the seat, thereby rumpling or misaligning her skirt. I think that makes a lot of sense and will always make note of this point to my date, and proceed to enter first and slide across to the far side of the cab.

In summary: Why are guys SO thickheaded about these rather basic factors that cater to their date’s needs and personal comfort?! I admit to being a stickler for etiquette and protocol, but so much of the other blogger’s experiences reflect a genuine lack of concern for the well being of their date and a paucity of gentlemanly behavior.

End Rant.

Travelling to the Date.

As I mentioned, I don’t have a car in this part of the country. Maintaining an automobile in the adverse weather conditions, fearing for its safety in The Heights, dealing with the hazards of New York traffic, and the convenience of public transportation simply make it clear in my mind that having a car here is more trouble than its worth.

Most often, getting to the date involves me sitting on the subway or inter-campus shuttle by myself heading toward the Stern dormitories or somewhere recognizable, often enough Toys R Us, where we meet and proceed to Starbucks. I am almost always listening to music that is very upbeat and pop-y, which can vary from groups such as Yaakov Chesed or Judablue to a niggun sung by Shlomo Katz or even something secular (gasp) like “GO” by Inoue Joe, a current J-Pop (Japanese pop) star. Sometimes I might not be in the best mood that day due to school or whatever is going on, so my goal is to:

1) Upgrade my mood to as happy as it can be.
2) Create an overly positive mindset – I want to legitimately greet my date cheerfully without resorting to a false display of emotions, masking what I’m really thinking/feeling. I can’t stand people who live behind a façade and pretend they’re actually interested in interacting with me, so I do my very best to never present that false face to a date.

I also sometimes randomly listen to a shiur on dating to brush up on some ideas I’ve heard before but want to ensure they are on the forefront of my mind. But, more often than not, I’m listening to my music, and getting jazzed up for what I presume will be a good experience (and I’ve seldom been disappointed).

In recent months, the occurrence of the girl living on the other side of The Heights has come up slightly more frequently. This is because since my shidduch suggestions have aged with me - I prefer girls around my own age, and that means that many of them are have graduated Stern/Touro, and are attending graduate school. In these cases, I walk over/take the local shuttle to where their apartment is and we head to the subway from there. The few that live at home while attending grad school have very graciously met me in Midtown, or sometimes in The Heights, so I have never had a meet-the-parents scenario. From what I’ve heard about the uncomfortable oddities of that experience, I’m glad I’ve never had to pick a girl up from her home.

I am always ever so grateful to the girl who schleps in to meet me, but it also makes me feel guilty for making her do that (though she often says it’s no big deal and prefers to date in the city). I have yet to get far enough in a relationship with any of these living-at-home types that would require me to go visit her in the nearby city she lives in (which is often somewhere in New Jersey or Long Island).

The Meet

In the vast majority of cases, I know what the girl looks like beforehand via a picture the friend who set us up sent me, or the pictures on her YUConnects/Saw You At Sinai profile. I try to get a picture before I say yes, because I’ve had several dates that were great on paper but just not attractive (from my perspective). After reading Bad4’s post on pictures (I forget which one), whenever I am offered a picture by the shadchan, I will immediately reply with the option of me sending my own picture for the girl to view, just to be fair. So far, no one’s taken me up on that offer (most just say yes).

I don’t have an overt tactic for “checking her out,” but will casually observe her general physical form over the course of the evening. In that same vein, I don’t feel the need to not-so-discreetly check out her posterior while riding an escalator or getting in a cab.

Whether I meet the girl on the other side of The Heights or at some location in Times Square, I always start the conversation by asking how her trip in was and how her day went. The first question gets a very quick, courteous answer, and the second is perfectly neutral and a good conversation opener. I usually know a bit about her educational background/career plans, so this gives me a chance to delve a bit deeper into that. She’ll often reciprocate, knowing my own career aspirations from my profile/the shadchan and inquire about me and my educational goals as well.

I also always do my best to hold open the door for her and I’ve never had anyone refuse this civil gesture. However, some have grabbed the door handle and opened it for me when I was too mentally involved in the budding conversation and totally missed my cue. In that case, I’ll thank her and offer a quip about her taking away my gentlemanly duties, which she usually finds funny (this then often leads into a discussion about those sorts of things).

I will also ALWAYS offer to use my Metro card to pay for her ride, which the vast majority of dates have accepted without question. I swipe for her first, she goes through, and then I swipe and enter after her. A small minority have insisted she use her own card since she has an unlimited/monthly whatever card, and one or two of those girls even offered to swipe for me!

Once inside the Starbucks, I will quickly scout out any free tables and of those available (if there are more than one) point it out to her so we can quickly claim it before anyone else gets the jump on us, which has happened once or twice. After acquiring our seats, and setting down our coats (if need be) I suggest that if she doesn’t have a specific drink in mind and wants to check out the menu, that she go first and decide while I hold down the fort, after which I will go order and pay for both of us when she returns with her choice.

I am not a coffee drinker at all, so I only buy one of two things, depending on the weather and my tastes at that moment : Naked Juice or a tall (small) vanilla latte. Why a vanilla latte, you ask? It was recommended to me by my married friend from my hometown who set me up on my first date when I told her that I didn’t like coffee. It’s very mild, semi-sweet, and pretty drinkable, so I’ve ordered it numerous times since then.

I always find it a little awkward to wait in line by myself after I’ve made our order, while my date sits at our table by herself. This is especially true if our table is nowhere near the service counter and I can’t even make small talk adequately. It feels like I’ve abandoned her, only moments after we’ve officially met, and it goes against my sense of gentlemanliness. Once I’ve paid and received the drinks, I quickly hop over (not literally) to the condiment/napkin stand and grab a few napkins before heading back to the table.

The Conversation

Now the fun begins!

The first “real” conversation often picks up wherever we left off when we were chatting upon entering the Starbucks. Since the “how was your day” bit can only last so long, and because we’ve pretty much exhausted that by this point, we will shift into several “safe” topics. These subjects include: Year(s) in Israel experiences, Jewish geography/mutual friends/how we know the person(s) who set us up, Jewish music (I am a HUGE Jewish music fan, so this is always an enjoyable topic, unless she doesn’t like Jewish music), current events, YU/Stern Hock, and secular popular culture.

This can then tangent into fluffier hashkafic topics, rabbeim we both know (from YU/Stern or Israel), general bits of info about our families – such as family trips, Shabbos meals, extended family relationships. Invariably, a dating story or two is brought up, both bad and simply funny. I don’t really have that many such stories to tell, but I add to my paltry list a sampling of stories that my roommates/chevrusas have shared (leaving out all essential identifying details).

I also sometimes veer off into deeper ideas of hashkafa, or some other “serious” topic which is officially a no-no. I never just stop the conversation, but do try to not go full-force with all my hashkafic/religious nuances. I think it’s important to give the girl a general sense about who I am and what my interests/beliefs are, sort of a sampling, which she will then use as part of her evaluation regarding if I deserve a second date or not.

Small pauses in conversation are normal, but I have sometimes found that some girls aren’t really into talking so much. This has shocked me, since I always though girls were the more talkative gender (no offense meant, and the Gemara in Brachos backs me up on this anyway).

In general, I don’t try to lead the conversation or guide it one way or another. I don’t have a specific set of topics I want to cover. If there is anything on her profile that warrants further discussion, I’ll save it for a later date when I’ve learned more about her and can evaluate if any minor concerns were really warranted or not, after which I would then bring them up. I also believe that proper conversation is a supposed to be give and take. If I feel that I am asking too many questions and she’s not reciprocating, I’ll try and lead her into asking me something.

Oddly enough, I sometimes find that I am the more talkative of the two of us. When I first started dating, I felt I was a real introvert, but I have since developed my conversational skills to a much greater functional degree. As one sibling put it, I used to hardly talk at all (since I have always been more of a quiet, deep thinker than social butterfly), and now I won’t shut up. So I have to be mindful of this, and will let the shadchan know if I think I succumbed to this new talkative tendency of mine just to make sure the girl wasn’t overwhelmed by the flow of information I shared.

I also happen to talk very quickly, and have worked very hard to diminish the speed of my speech. My mind just works too quickly for my lips, and this sometimes leads to mispronunciation in my haste to tell a story or whatever. When I am more consciously aware of how fast I’m speaking, I will immediately pause for breath and switch gears into a more languid expression. The slower pace of talking sometimes makes me feel like my tongue is dancing over the words that exit my mouth, which is an interesting sensation (in a good way).

The girl will often marvel at my lack of any discernable accent or noticeable out-of-towner quirks, and I’ll assure her that I’m the anomaly in the family (for better or worse) in this area, despite having living in my hometown for the first 18 years of my life. That also leads into fun discussion about background differences, usually centering on them bemoaning the typical nature of theirs and curiously inquiring about my rather different upbringing.

Using the Bathroom

When I first started dating, I was very nervous to excuse myself to use the restroom, but I have since wizened up and realize that this isn’t a big deal at all. However, the actual departure from the table and return is still a bit awkward. There is also the problem that is more applicable for guys than girls, which is making sure my fly is properly zipped up. Thankfully, I’ve never had any embarrassing incidents, but the possibility makes me a little paranoid.

After several hours since my last bathroom use before I left my dorm, combined with the consumption of an entire Naked Juice or coffee, using the facilities inevitably becomes a necessity. My problem, which still happens every now and then, is that I become so enthralled with the conversation that I ignore the pleas of my bladder and end up realizing I should use the bathroom just as we are about to leave (and before the long subway ride back), which is awkward in its own way. If I am taking the shuttle back, I’ll usually wait until I get to the Brookdale lobby so as not to interrupt the date.

Ending the Date

When the typical pauses in conversation suddenly become grindingly painful, I know we’ve run out of things to talk about. Sometimes the girl will need to catch a certain bus or meet someone to get a ride home for Shabbos, so I’m more consciously aware of needing to end the date by a specific time. If we happen to be at a restaurant, the course of the meal generally leads toward a conclusion pretty readily (and I can only ignore the waiter’s request for me to pay the bill so many times).

I usually (but not always) pick up the subtle hints that she is getting a little tired or bored, and will ask, “So, do you think it’s time to head back?” She’ll then nod her head and express an affirmation of my suspicions. We gather our things, clear the table and throw away our trash. I’m always conflicted about what I should do with plastic bottles in these stores that don’t have recycling bins (what can I say, I’ve been brainwashed, in a good way, by YU’s Recycle-mania). In such a scenario, I’ll mention recycling to the girl, and she very often expresses a similar sentiment. If she seems aghast at the idea of me putting the bottle in my coat pocket (this only works in the winter, I’m not going to carry a bottle in my hand back in the subway, but sometimes I will carry it to Brookedale where they DO have recycling bins), I’ll just swallow my greener inclination and throw the bottle away with the rest of the refuse.

And yes, I’ve had situations where we are both likeminded in this area and we each take our empty bottles back with us. Call me crazy if you will – but this only happens every once and a while when I don’t get a vanilla latte.

After we leave, I will: A) Walk her back to her dorm and hang out in the Brookdale Lounge, listening to my iPod until the shuttle arrives B) Walk her to the bus station or C) Head back to the subway with my date and accompany her back to the entrance of her apartment building.

If I am taking her back to her apartment, we continue talking, with varying results. Sometimes conversation really picks up after the lull between the official "end" of the date and getting settled in the subway, while other times all interaction is basically dead in the water. In that case, we chat lightly, but mostly about nothing in particular, while taking advantage of the noisiness of the subway ride to create breaks instead of forcing continued dialogue.

Saying Goodnight

Saying goodnight is always awkward. I have never even thought of asking the girl for a second date then and there, because that puts her on the spot unfairly, even if I can readily tell that she liked me and will say yes. I usually thank her for accompanying me and make a reference to having enjoyed myself, after she responds in kind. I then awkwardly mention something to the effect of we’ll each get back to the shadchan and see where we go from here, which she’ll agree to in very neutral, sometimes restrained fashion (if she likes me). I wish her a final goodnight, thank her again, and she makes her exit.

The Journey Back

I’m either on the subway or shuttle listening to music of some kind (depending on my mood). I prefer the shuttle if possible, especially if it’s late, since it will drop me off right in front of my dorm building (so I don’t have to trek through the local neighborhood, and in the cold if it’s winter), is free, and far less obnoxious than taking the subway in general. I lose myself in the music, ignoring everything happening around me, and reflect on the date. I usually have a good time on a first date, but I’ll also think over the one or two rough spots that might have cropped up. If I really like her, I may end up listening to bouncy wedding songs on the way back (a bit premature, I know).

The Decision

In the vast majority of cases, I will always go on a second date. I’ve never had issues with looks that were so disturbing that I’d turn down another chance. I did want to end one shidduch after a first date (the first YUConnects shidduch) since we were simply incompatible on a number of issues, but my connector guilt-tripped me into a second date (wherein I noticed the issues didn’t change at all, and I ended it then). The one other time I wanted to end the shidduch after the first date since I couldn't identify with the girl at all, despite her great qualities, and she thought the same thing.

I’ll call the shadchan and give my post-date debriefing which consists of a short summary, a highlight of the positive points of what transpired, and what I liked about her. He/she will respond, “great, I’ll call her and see what she thought.” With the exception of one girl, they always say yes to a second date.

If I hear back from the shadchan that night that she agreed to another outing, I go to bed very pleased with the results of the evening. If it’s too late to call him/her, or they say they’ll call the girl in the morning, I’m still happy, but also a little nervous that she’s going to say no (even if that hasn’t been a widespread concern).

Conclusion

So there you have it, after thinking about this all week and mentioning my in-progress status on numerous other blogs’ comments, I’ve finished my version of the nitty-gritty details of Shades of Grey on a first date. I hope this has been an enlightening educational read. Comments and questions are most welcome!

Re: Making Sure She Has A Good Time

It's always fun to see some confirmation of the ideas produced in my sometimes (or is that always?) creatively zany mind.

Bad4 just posted a link to an article published in Ladies Home Digest back in 1950 regarding how a young woman can best secure second date with her handsome, young gentleman caller. Noticeable among the 25 items listed that are to be considered post-date, is #23:

23. Did you have a good time - and show it?

I rest my case. Well, not really. But, the fact that this is listed from the female perspective is certainly interesting.

Intelligence In A Shidduch Prospect

I know this issue has been discussed to death, and I would hate to be yet another blogger to plant a proverbial boot into the flank of an already abused, rotting equine carcass, but I think my perspective is a little different than most posts readers may have seen thus far. First, basically every blogger that has written about this subject has been female (that I have seen, and I could very easily be wrong, considering how many untold numbers of Jewish bloggers discussing shidduchim are out there). Second, my views on the subject of a date's intelligence are probably not typical at any rate, as are most things I think or write about. Therefore, I hope I can present a fairly unique perspective, rather than repeat points previously expressed, by people who, at any rate, probably write better than I do.

There are many things that people often prioritize when thinking about considering a potential marriage partner (see Bad for Shidduchim and A Mother in Israel). I emphatically agree with many commenters on both sites that list kindness as a top priority. I think that possessing a firm essence of kindness is especially significant since kindness is a very important "foundational trait" of sorts that many other positive attributes, such as being giving, expressing patience, and having the will to work out problems, can, and do stem from. I'll safely place kindness as the number one choice of what one should look for (both men and women).

But what about intelligence?

Everyone, to one degree or another, has some functional level of intelligence. However, is it wrong to desire a spouse (or in my case a wife) who enjoys actively participating in deeper discussions of Judaism-related topics (hashkafa, halacha, learning, etc) and/or secular matters (science, literature, etc)?

Just to clarify, even though I would personally very much like to have a wife who can hold her own in talking about some area of Judaic studies, I am not looking for a "chevrusa," as one of my rabbeim in Israel so eloquently put it. It is true that husband and wife often find some matter to study together, such as a beautiful example of a friend's parents who regularly studied the Chofetz Chaim's works on Lashon Hara together, even though the daily grind of kids running around the house can detract from such regular paired study. Even someone who has some level of exposure to Gemara study (whether minimal, or significant) doesn't worry me, but I don't anticipate spending the evenings of Shana Rishona immersed in a night-seder chevrusa in my apartment instead of in the beis medrish.

I am not frightened of the idea of even having a wife who could very well be smarter or more intelligent than I am (as in I would never be scared off like the guy from Bad for Shidduchim's story). If anything, I find a woman displaying higher levels of intelligence, or who is accomplished in her studies to be a potential source of inspiration. Rather than creating a childish competition of "who's smarter," I feel as though I would admire such a person. Instead of letting myself be complacent, and potentially backsliding over the course of my life (as in, if you don't use it, you DO lose it), I would do my very best to continue developing in Torah study and elsewhere. I also think I would shep nachas from a wife who could deliver interesting and engaging shiurim.

Upon bringing this idea up with my parents, Mom quickly replied that this shouldn't be a significant factor in evaluating a date. She basically said that the general craziness of married life and the particular unending job of raising children would preclude any possibility of ever having serious, intellectually stimulating conversation with my wife. While she would know far better than I about what it's like to deal with kids running around the house, I must respectfully disagree on her second point - I don't think one can make such a broad statement about looking for intelligence in a spouse.

Having seen examples of relatives and friends' parents who have started settling into their older years sprawled out on a couch, passively watching TV, is it wrong to want someone who would rather read a book? Reading and discussing books is a pastime long forgotten in many places in the world we live in today, and can provide very meaningful interaction and exchange of ideas. It may just be me, but I find the image of my wife and I sitting side by side reading together to be inherently more romantic than perched on a sofa, my arm around her shoulders, viewing the latest hit TV show or blockbuster movie.

I'm not trying to make an anti TV rant here. While there is indeed a glut of mind-wasting sludge out there (*cough* reality TV *cough*), there is programming worth watching as well (anyone seen episodes from the Discovery Channel's "Planet Earth" series? It's absolutely fascinating and features gorgeous footage of the incredible world we live in). My point is that preferring leisure activities/forms of entertainment that are intellectually stimulating should be a person's priority (which doesn't remove the license for a little fun on the more mindless side of things every now and then).

Intelligence is certainly attractive, and I think it is something that can make someone even more attractive than their physical features alone. Unlike what I presume most guys would choose - I would much rather have a wife who does not possess super modelesque looks and proportions (but whom I find physically attractive) and can give me a run for my money in the intellectual arena, than a woman who could easily be featured on the cover of a fashion magazine and not know who Shakespeare was.

I just feel as though there is a whole additional level of connection in the cerebral realm between husband and wife. Certainly, the physical attraction component must exist, as well as the emotional connection - the will to place the other person ahead of your own needs (IE kindness, giving, loving him/her more than yourself etc), and a level of spiritual compatibility (similar religious levels, values, hashkafic viewpoints). But the ability to engage in intellectual discourse - a sort of melding of minds - even if the particular educational perspectives are different (as they inherently will be, to some degree) seems like something worth desiring in a mate.

I agree that you can't presume your spouse will be able to fulfill every single intellectual need you have, that's what friends and rabbeim/teachers/chevrusas are for. I just don't believe that this is an area that is so easily compromised as say, an interest in a particular area of popular culture. I can live with the fact that my wife doesn't like _____ as much as I do (or at all, for that matter) - I can discuss it with my guy friends when I get the chance. But to entirely lack that deeper, brainier sort of relationship with the one woman who I'm going to share the rest of my life with, partner with to raise a family, and hopefully create a positive communal impact beyond the walls of our home, is a big issue in my mind.

Also, just to make something clear - I am not the most brilliant genius that has ever graced the YU campus (my GPA is NOT 4.0). I have plenty of friends who I will willingly recognize as making better grades and quite likely possess an IQ higher than mine. This post isn't about me being intellectually arrogant and putting down others who are not as smart as I might be. There are definitely guys and girls out there who could really care less how smart their husbands/wives are, as long as they are fun, easy to get along with, and will be a great person to help run a family. I certainly respect those who need that kind of spouse, and who they themselves are not the more intellectual type. As a commenter or two said in the above linked posts (check second paragraph), intelligence is a G-d given ability, so far be it from me to be a snob about a person's natural abilities, whatever level they are on. I merely feel that this is a level of connection that seems very essential to a successful, long-lasting relationship with my future wife. I could survive without this component, but I don't think I would be as fulfilled without it.

Maybe this is why I tend to think girls who wear glasses are more attractive than those who don't?