This week, I went to a wedding. I loathe weddings. In addition to weddings being really rough on diets--Roxie hates weddings almost as much as she hates weekends--and being bad places for the hearing impaired, weddings cause me to go slightly insane. I arrive at the wedding normal enough but within a short period of time I am halfway to suicidal.
This wedding was no exception and the depression hit hard. As I do at nearly all weddings, I started calling up all of my friends, from the huppa (wedding ceremony) to cry to them that I am old and decrepit and single and that I am never going to have sex again. Since my more savvy friends have learned to avoid my phone calls at these times, I had taken the precaution of not telling anyone in advance that I was going to a wedding. There you were, Friend, minding your own business, and all of a sudden the phone rang and it was me, calling from a wedding and generally a sodden mess (though a sober one--G-d forbid that this particular mess include any alcohol because I drove and the wedding was in the middle of nowhere and because I have no head for alchohol), tearfully asking you to please say something to cheer me up. At times like this, I ask you to remember one thing: my kick-ass oatmeal chocolate chip cookie recipe. Oh—and another thing. If in the past, apart from agreeing with me that G-d is an inconsiderate bastard, there was nothing to say, this week Kayla finally found that elusive Something To Say. When I called her to whine, she responded with two words: "blog material". Genius! The rest of the evening I was happily occupied with hounding my fellow guests to help me come up with stuff I could put on my blog. Unfortunately, apart from the guy with the unnaturally small head (looked rather like Beatlejuice after his encounter with the witch doctor) there was nothing to write about. But no matter. Maybe the next wedding I go to will be chock-full of entertaining disasters.
As fun as that might be, avoiding the wedding is still preferable. Indeed, in the best interests of my sanity and that of my friends, I avoid weddings whenever possible. To clarify, this does not preclude me from being offended when I am not invited to a wedding that I feel that I should have been invited to. Suppose, for example, we are not friends and have never even had a proper conversation but we do have many friends in common and are part of the same "circle". Or I am friendly with the bride, who knows how much I hate gong to weddings because I have called her up in the past to enlist her advice regarding how to get out of going to a wedding of a mutual friend. Or perhaps I invited the bride or the groom to one of my mass-invite fundraising parties. Or perhaps they had me over for a meal over the hagim, because I was staying with yet another mutual friend and the mutual friend asked if she could bring me. Or maybe three years ago I had the groom over for a dinner at my house--an bona fide invitation-- at which time I discovered he was an obnoxious twit and I hated him and never invited him again. Or something like that. You must agree with me--in such circumstances, do I not deserve to receive an invitation to decline? Scandalous!
But sometimes I get an invitation and (like this week) cannot safely decline it. The deleterious effects of weddings linger long after the event itself. Take this week, for instance. In the last two days, I have signed up for four (4) dating sites: Jdate, SawYouAtSinai, Dosidate and Look4Love. This can only end badly. Either no one will contact me, and I will be depressed because no one contacted me and that means I am ugly and pathetic and the dateless wonder or someone WILL contact me and I will have to go out on a blind date. I hate blind dates as much as I hate weddings.
Why, why WHY do I do this to myself?
Whatever. I have done this to myself. And I need your help. I need to choose my SawYouAtSinai Shadchanim (matchmakers) and I am looking for recommendations—in both directions. What better place to start looking than on my blog? As an incentive, allow me to remind you that blind dates are frequently a source of good blog material. That means fun for me and (hopefully) fun for you. Remember that Shabbat dinner when my friend tried to set me up? Wasn't that fun? Yes? Good. Now, I realize that self-interest demands that you hook me up with really horrible matchmakers, in order to guarantee entertaining blog posts. Allow me to assure you that there is no need for that. I have already gone the Rogue Shadchan Route and I have a respectable collection of blind-dates-from-hell. (To summarize—it appears that many shadchanim believe that a poor sad heroic victim of terror is damaged goods, and is properly matched with the unemployed, the hopeless, the mentally ill and men with comb-overs. So yeah, I have material.)
Hmmmm….maybe I should have you guys help me write my dating site profile?