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Writer's pictureLeah Jones

Too Jewish and other possibilities.


Too Jewish.

Too Jewish, anyway, for anyone who would consider my conversion valid. Therein lies the rub. Had I done this conversion thing in between a proposal and a wedding, I wouldn’t be too Jewish. But, no, I had to go and become a Jew while I was single and therefore inflict Jdate on myself.

And with Jdate the online service comes the Jdates and the Jdaters. Meh. And the realization that I should have dated Jewish while I wasn’t and then converted.

Clearly things have not worked out with the guy that things were previously going quite well with. And all I can guess is that I’m too Jewish. It’s not the first time. I also have a whole litany of physical problems running through my head. Too tall. Too fat. Should have gotten a haircut. Shoudn’t have worn heels. Should’ve worked out more.

Should’ve served meat at the seder. Okay, drifting out of physical here, but once the ball starts rolling…

I don’t get why this is so hard. Are my friends lying to me? It is possible that I have no potential as a girlfriend? What would be so terrible about dating me?

For pete’s sake, I only have one cat. I stopped at one cat. I did that on purpose people. I don’t have any possesive ex-boyfriends or terrible amounts of baggage that I trail behind me. Or is it the disctinct lack of baggage? That instead of dating, I worked on friendships and my careers.

And now I’m hungry. Very, very hungry. I can not eat another matzah or matzah ball. And I have presentation in the morning. This gets an official “meh.”

UPDATE: I feel like I should add a bit now that I’ve finally had some protein. I’m still quite angry, but have also said to other men “no spark.” Albeit rarely, as we usually choose the fade away after one date.

This guy had so many things that I’d forgotten I even valued. Big ideas, prototypes, fantastic art swirling around in his head, a love of Chicago mixed with a travel bug. He spoke the same geekly interweb slang I do and even sent me code after our first date. Other women swoon for roses and I was kvelling over code. There was also the part where he seemed to like me back. The part where he wanted to see me. Which after the ongoing battle of unrequitedness that you are all so familiar with, well, it was really nice.

I think that our common online language was part of the problem. Two people too well versed in Google. Google, my dears, does not find or ignite sparks, but I think it can certainly douse one.

Or not. Or there was really nothing there and I am just as foolish as I was six months ago. Believe it or not, I was feeling better when I was in the shower a few minutes ago. Damn.

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