Not Again...

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On this, the eve of my 53rd birthday, I have been offered my complimentary glass of champagne from the owner of my favorite place. The place where they let me take up two tables and all of the cushions, no matter how crowded it is. 


I asked for my complimentary dessert, but the waiter said it was limited to pancakes. I don't believe him, but beggars can't be choosers. 


It's just hazy enough that I won't have to suffer through a beautiful sunset alone, but they are lighting the candles on the tables, which has the Pavlovian effect of making me cry.


I don't want to expand on anything else at this point. I'll let you know in a few days how I feel. 


In the meantime, I will start a new tradition and re-post my birthday post from last year. 


I'm sorry to say that it is still relevant.

Originally posted on TUESDAY, MARCH 29, 2011

Forty to Fortynine

Somewhere in the abyss between the constraints of motherhood and the inevitability of hotflashes, I turned 50. 

My first thought was this... "Shit, now all those guys who chose drop-down option of 'age preference for partner' 40-49 are going to miss me." 

I am like those digital clock radios from my childhood; back when digital meant you read the time with digits that flipped over on a hinge. I have flipped over.  All the numbers have made their rounds. The click is deafening. I am now 50 and alarms are going off everywhere in cyberspace. 

Every on-line dating site has celebrated my birthday with a fateful "refresh" at midnight. I have been relegated to the search results of the over 60s looking for a younger woman. No longer would I be an educated, non-smoker, 40-49 with a proportional body type.

How can I reverse this torture? Can I set my birthday back a few days? Is it too late?

The panic sets in and I change my birthday to next week. Relief for a few days. 

But ohhhhh. Not good.... Quick. look up when Aries is no longer Aries. We can't have a situation in which I am displaying STRICTLY Aries like traits when my new birthday is making me a whatever... this would confuse the shit out of the myriad of men that have me pegged as an Aries within 3 minutes of conversation..... 

And we don't want to confuse any more men. 

I easily could have gained another year of interest from the under 50 men who "love life" and are "ready for chapter 2". But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't contribute to that web of half-truths that are the world of on-line dating.  

So I chose to remain a 50 year old Aries. And a 51 year old Aries. And a soon to be 52 year old Aries. I'll keep my profile picture updated and (try to) stop thinking about the ones that got away. 

I'll devote my energy to being the best I can be as time marches on.

And with a bow to those men and women who choose to add years to their cyber life, I am almost finished writing the "New Translation of Internet Dating Answers". I promise to share it with you.

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A Passover Blessing.

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With the steadfastness of the changing moons, another Passover will be ushered in in a few hours. I am waiting for the eggs to get to room temperature. (A poor planning fiasco on my part that they weren't left out all night. At least I took the meat out of the freezer.) 


Passover is a favorite holiday in Israel. All branches of the family tree, the twigs and their spring buds, converge on one home, whose kitchen miraculously produces a spring bounty which will feed the masses and still be left over for lunch the next day. 


Despite the inherent joys of holidays, I have - in the past - known melancholy and sadness, at times when I was alone and the extended family home eluded me. More than one Passover over the years has brought me to the airport just so I could be with my mommy. 


Just over a year ago I was nursing a broken heart. Admitedly, under the circumstances, it never should have been out there to break. But it was and it did and creativity and other good things came of it. 


This year, this Passover,  I feel wind in my sails. I am propelled forward to new adventures.


I am 7 kilos lighter then I was a month ago, and watching that small weight on the doctor's scale move left every week.  My hair is a fab new color. I am convinced that all in all, I am quite a catch. 


So I won't tell you about the guy that has my interest, except to say that I also have his. And that, in and of itself, is special. 


It is not a given in my life that every man I fall for also falls for me. Nor is it a given that I should expect no less. 


For this past year I have been working on that elusive truth - that mutuality is the key. 


Mutual emotions, and mutual expectations of where they should lead, is the minimum criteria before  indulging in even a fleeting thought of a glimmer of a trace of a hope of a relationship. 


It is the absolute understanding that what isn't here now should not be waited for. 


I have been working so diligently on making these words true in life that maybe the universe has finally put me on its radar for better things. Maybe something momentous will happen in my life. 


And maybe not. 


At the very least, for now, for this moment in time, I am feeling pretty good. I want to believe that by the time the Brisket is finished, I will be quite the happy camper. 


In the meantime, while I bake the flourless cake, while I add enough matzo to sink the knaidlach, I wish everyone a very Happy Passover. And like the Israelites out of Egypt, may we all find our own personal Freedom. 


Amen. 


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