I consider myself a warm and affectionate person.  I have very little problems with my feelings and expressing them.  I tell my friends at least a couple times a week that I love them(mainly because they are so awesome).  I tell my family that I love them after every conversation.  I like holding hands with my boyfriend as we walk down the street.  I love cuddling.

But as affectionate as I am, I have my limits.  

Hugging should be reserved for people you know and love.  It should be like an "I love you", if you do it too much it looses it's meaning.  It's a personal invasion thing.  You don't need to be in my space if I just met you.  I hug people I like.  If I don't really know you then I haven't decided whether or not I like you.  If you come in for a hug too soon in our relationship, I'm gonna have to quote Johnny Castle- "This is my dance space, this is your dance space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine!"

Holding hands.  I think of it as something very intimate.  Another thing I don't mind doing, if I know you and love you.  Or if you are a little child and we are crossing the street.  I once went on a second date with someone.  Second dates are not "hand holding dates".  Second dates are "we are still getting to know each other dates".  He held my hand while we were walking to the restaurant.  He held my hand at the restaurant.  He held my hand walking back from the restaurant.  Dude, I'm not going to run, you can leave my hand alone.

PDA.  I don't mind kissing in public.  When I say "hi" to the guy I'm dating, I'll kiss him.  Even when he does something cute, I'll kiss him in public.  I will not start making out with him in a bar full of people.  There are couples at the bar that I work at that don't leave much to the imagination.  When I feel uncomfortable coming up to your table because your tongues are down each other's throats, you should probably detach yourselves and pay the bill.  Your bed has to be much more comfortable than the bench you are sitting on. 

I really am a warm and affectionate person.  You just have to get to know me to see that side. Until then,respect my space.

Text Message

Sometimes I'm confused about the times we live in.  I was not born with a cellphone in my hand.  I had to remember phone numbers.  I had to ask permission to talk to the person I was looking for from their parents.  The term "land line" did not exist-because there was only one line, and if you were on it- nobody else could be.  The first "cell phone" my dad had, had it's own bag because it was so huge.    And even with the cell phone, you still had to remember phone numbers.

Most of all, I remember the times before texting.

I'm not anti-technology.  I LOVE technology.  I don't know how we walked around with cell phones that aren't IPhones.  And for those of you who know me also know that I'm not against texting.  I talk to my friends, all day, every day through text messages.  It's a great way to keep in touch.  I text my cousins in the States(which is awesome).  I text my parents while they're at work and can not talk.  But those are people I know and love.  Those are not people I want to date.

When did it become socially acceptable to text a girl about going out instead of actually calling?  Why did we (girls) give up on the fact that boys should make an effort?  We should hear their voice when they ask what time should they pick us up.  

I recently went out with a boy who texted me when and where.  We went out on a nice date, it was better then others but not awesome.  But, what really killed it for me was the fact that the next day- he texted me again.  And then proceeded to text me all day long about my day and his.  I am not 16 and neither are you.  You want to know how my day was? Call me up at the end of it and ask.  I went out on a second date with him because my friends told me it would be good, but really- I was already over him.  It was a week before we were able to schedule another date, which meant it was a week of texting from morning to night.  The second date was doomed from the beginning, even if he didn't do all the other annoying things he did.

This is not the first boy that has decided that texting is a way of life.  What happened and when did it happen??  Is it too late to stop?  

Guys, I'm 29, I remember the time you had to remember phone numbers- If you want to ask me out on a date, man up and call!

Mothers deserve a Mother's Day.  Here in Israel it has become "Family Day", not that family isn't important-but Mothers... they deserve their own day.  The Family does not keep going even though they are sick(in fact the Family curls up into a ball to complain and ask to be taken care of).  The Family doesn't clean up vomit(sorry, but they don't!).  The Family isn't there when you scrap your knee, or get your heart broken.  

My Mom is  awesome.  She DEFINETLY deserves her own day.  My Mom got parenting right.  Like any daughter, I had a couple of years when I was just plain mean.  I probably said a lot of things that would make me cringe today.  We yelled a lot, doors were slammed a lot, and there were tears from the both of us. But once the terrible teens were over, she became my best friend.

She's the reason I've seen and love all the chick flicks that make me smile or cry.  She introduced me to the classics(any Audrey Hepburn for example).  

We cry.  We cry at movies, happy or sad.  We cry at tv shows, happy or sad.  We cry at award shows.  We cry at Presidents' speeches.  We cry when we are angry.  We cry when we are tired. We cry when something good happens.  We cry when we see each other cry.  (I realize it sounds like we cry 90% of the time..but sometimes it's a good cry!)

She pushes me to be better, to try harder.  It may not be things I want to hear and I may tell her to leave me alone, but I appreciate it.  

She has sacrificed things that she wants to get me things that I want, and I try very hard to return the favor when ever I can.

When I have a problem, she's the one I talk to about it.  

When I write, she's the one I ask to tell me her opinion about it.

When I get my heart broken, she's my shoulder to cry on.

She taught me the answer when cynics tell me that being in love with your spouse does not last- I think about my parents and laugh-because I know that it does.

I plan my trips home so that I have time with her.  

When I fight back tears during an argument(pissed at myself for being such a girl), I have her to thank for that.  When I forget my keys in my door or can't remember where I last put something, I have her to thank for that.  When I realize what awesome friendship is and when to cut the unhealthy drama from my life, I have her to thank for that.  And when I can honestly tell a guy who says he "wants to make me better" that I am AWESOME, I have her to thank for that.

She is a big part of who I am today.

My Mom deserves more then one day.  My Mom deserves a life time of days.  

My Mom got parenting right, because when I think of the day that I have children and I say to myself "Oh my God, I'm just like my Mom"-it will be one of my proudest moments, cause then I'll know that I'm getting it right.

Love you soooooooo much!

My first experience on J-Date was not awesome.  A boy sent me a message on the site.  I looked at his profile, and decided-why not?  Sure, his profile was a little wordy(maybe that should have been a warning sign), but I decided (or probably more accurate, my friends lectured me that I need to stop being a "Seinfeld" episode) that I'll go out with him.

After a couple of short messages he asked for my number.  A few seconds later, he called.

It was the longest hour and 20 min.(but who's counting) of my life!

Yes, that's right, ONE HOUR AND 20 MIN.!!

During the longest conversation of my life, this boy asked me three times if I REALLY wanted to go out on Friday(I'm pretty sure that the first time I said yes should have been a clue to that question).  Told me about what an awesome boyfriend he is with examples from past relationships.  And managed to make me uncomfortable when he told me about his sick mother and dead father.  When people over share, especially ones I haven't even seen in person- I have no idea how to react.  The only thing that popped into my head is- "Maybe my Mom is your Mom's nurse!"  Yep...that's the best I could do.

During the phone call from hell, I was trying very hard to not go Seinfeld on certain things-even when asked if I would hug him when I saw him(for the first time).  To which I replied- No. I don't know you.  I hug people I know.  To which he thought appropriate to say "Oh, so you are a cold person".  Even then! I gave him another chance.  I explained that once he gets to know me, he'll realize how untrue that is.

Then everything took a turn for the worst(yes, even more.).  After the 50th time he told me to be more open and talk more(I don't think he realizes that for that to happen- he has to stop talking!!!)  I told him that was not going to happen.  With patience and time, I open up, and there's nothing he can do to change that.  

But it's ok, because he doesn't want to change me, he wants to make me better!

HA!

I told him that after 28 years, I feel really good about myself.  And I'm pretty awesome.  After about 2 minutes of back and forth I realized that I'm arguing with somebody I don't know!  We even started arguing about whether or not we are arguing(I'm pretty sure that when you start raising your voice..you are arguing!).

Needless to say-we did not go out that Friday.

Although the first on-line dating experience was not awesome at least I learned something.  ALWAYS talk with guy on the phone before going on a date with him.  

I’m 28 years old.  Last year I broke up with my boyfriend.  After a long post break up relationship- you know the one- when you decide you can be friends and talk all the time.  Then you decide that it would be an awesome idea to get together- because you’re friends!  Then you fall into a pattern, a familiar pattern, but that ok- because you’re friends!  And then you realize you’re not really friends.  So you have the talk, again.  You cry, again.  You get over it…again.

After the break up, I rebounded.  I started hanging out with a boy who had broken up with his girlfriend around the same time that I had broken up with my boyfriend.  We talked at night when we couldn’t fall asleep.  We laughed.  We had fun and it was exactly what I needed when it happened.

During the past year I liked one boy-but was way too “post break up blind” to see that I was seeing the wrong boy.  Luckily, him being the wrong boy, totally blew it after like 2 minutes.  He’s a good friend now, the real kind and I love him a lot.

I went on one real date.  But when running on the treadmill te next day- all I could think about is the ex.  I decided to wait a little while before I started dating again.

I started to enjoy the quiet.  I slept with both pillows.  I leave the cabinet doors open and my clothes on the floor.  I might have started on one side of the bed, but as the night goes on, I’m all over the place.  And the best part, I leave a place because I want to leave (or it’s closing, whichever comes first).

Then I made my last, “I’m over you” move.  I liked a guy who was a lot like my ex-boyfriend, only a little better.  He’s my “Ex 4S”.  Basically, the same only with a couple little improvements.  When I realized that, realized I didn’t want that, I knew I was read to date. 

Except I’m 28 and I don’t get out.  I work at a bar with mainly drunk men.  And when you’re drunk, you are not attractive, male or female.  When I’m not at the bar, I like to stay at home………and sleep.

So I’m 28 and have decided to register at a dating website.  Put it out into the universe that I’m ready to date.  And deal with whatever weirdness comes my way.  Plus, I’m pretty sure it will make a funny blog… 

I love books. 

My Parents have a Kindle.  They have fallen in love with it.  They even almost convinced me to get one ASAP.  It actually makes more sense here in Israel.  The book stores here aren’t over flowing with English books(the only kind that I read) and the books that they do have are pretty expensive.  With a Kindle you can have that book you’ve heard about in a matter of seconds.

 

Except, Kindles don’t look as good as books on bookshelves.  In fact, you don’t really need bookshelves for a Kindle.  I love my bookshelves.  I love the way all my books look on my shelves.  I had recently bought this very pretty bamboo straw bookshelf.  What makes it even better are the different sized and different colored books from my favorite authors.  When I run out of new books to read I just go to my trusted shelves.  I skim over the different spines and pick a book I’ve read already and fall in love with it all over again (one of the many reasons I’ve read Lamb 4 times).

Kindles don’t use all your senses.  New books are my favorite.  They have a new book smell.  The pages aren’t creased yet and the spine is still straight.  They don’t have little animal bites on them(my bulldog loved books too).  They’re pretty.  New books feel new.  The pages turn easily and they’re still soft.  When you turn another page on your book because you can’t put it down and go to sleep(even if you have to get up early in the morning) you hear a page turning(instead of a click).  New books will make me turn off the tv and get lost in a world where my imagination can run wild.  If the book is awesome, I won’t put it down (not even for coffee or a meal).

You can’t get a Kindle signed.  The best anniversary gift that I got my parents is a signed copy of Lamb by Christopher Moore.  When the book got here, I was so excited I thought I was going to burst.  I’m not good at keeping secrets from my parents(why I’m a Warady), so the day it came was the day that I called my sister 3 times to figure out when we are going to give it to them.  When I did finally give them their present, they loved it.  The book was beautiful and the fact that it was signed made it amazing. This was the best anniversary present we could have gotten for my parents, and it couldn’t have happened with a Kindle.

You don’t have to go to a book store every time you want to buy a book when you are using a Kindle.  I LOVE bookstores.  I can spend a lot of time at a bookstore in Israel, and they don’t even have a great selection.  Not compared to the States at least.  I can spend the afternoon in a bookstore in the States. Wandering the aisles, trying to decide what book I want to read next.  Discovering new authors and making sure I didn’t miss any new books from my favorite authors.  The smell of bookstores.  They smell like coffee all over the world.  Coffee and new books. I LOVE bookstores.

Bookstores, books in general are becoming extinct.  I love technology(I’m in love with my Iphone), but books should be here to stay.  I understand Kindles.  But I will buy books at bookstores till there are no more or nowhere to buy more.  Books(with actual pages to turn) are always going to be more awesome then a Kindle.  Always.

Family Ties

I was reading my Mom's blog (yes Mom, I really do read your blog): "Coming of Age..again" (comingofageagain.blogspot.com).  She talked about weeding out the old clothes in her closest and that got me thinking about the different things I get from both my parents.

First of all, my Mom blogged about her ability to go through her closet and get rid of clothes.  This is an ability that I don't have.  Now, if you go through my Dad's closet you'll find..well..everything he's ever worn. It may not fit anymore, it may have many many holes, it may be from before I was born- but you can't throw it away, what if he NEEDS it sometime in the future.  To people like us, EVERYTHING is sentimental.   Everything reminds us of something.  And maybe I haven't worn this since last year, but I might wear it tomorrow.

I cry at everything.  My boyfriend knows me well enough by now, but he's still surprised at how much I cry. I love chic flicks, because there is always a chance to cry.  I am the typical girl when it comes to tearing up.  My Dad doesn't even have to look at my mom and me when he hands us the tissues.

I can balance a spoon on my nose.  It was my Uncle's thing- on my Dad's side.  It may not seem like much to you, but it was great entertainment for my co-workers at the bar that I work at. 

I forget where I put things.  I used to laugh at my Mom when it happened to her.  When I would find the ice cream in the fridge or the milk in the freezer, I would shake my head and think "oh mom".  Then I started doing it too.  My keys would stay all night in the lock on the outside of the door.  I once misplaced my glasses and found them in the refrigerator. 

I love this country.  I'm happy here.  I have great friends, I have a great job, I love being able to speak Hebrew, and I love the view that you have almost everywhere.  This, I get from both my parents.