It seems to me that as a people who have been persecuted for 5,000 years, we Jews would have a more enlightened and less secular attitude toward those we choose as life partners.

Amy Odell’s recent article, “Shalom, Be Alone,” touches on the subject of inter-marriage. Many of her readers had a strong reaction to her opinion that many of us are limiting ourselves by only choosing Jewish mates. I understand that many feel that Judaism is not just a religion or a culture/ethnicity, but something akin to the master race (and who could argue with that?).

Talking recently to a non-Jew friend of mine, she said that she refused to date anyone that is not at least a little bit Italian. It dawned on me once again, that while I belong to and associate with a community that has survived over 5,000 years by sticking together and abiding by their laws, we are living in a world where remaining ethnically pure is no longer viable. We fight for peace and equal rights and then turn around with the prejudice that marrying outside our ethnic/religious group is the way of the fallen. If it is still 1850, I would like to know why women aren’t completely covered and wearing corsets. Anyone?

Perhaps it’s true, as we’ve recently heard, that Jews possess some genetic advantages. Maybe avoiding inter-relationships really will make you more to likely birth another doctor, lawyer, or banker. But if your reasons are to preserve the Jewish genes that have been around for the past 5,000 years, allow me to refer you to Meryl Yourish’s post about James Watson and his double helix. Genes, by the way, are not fixed, they oscillate, so who we associate with could actually change our genetic structure. Beware, my superior friends.

I expect Lubavitch Jews not to inter-marry, as I expect Hasidic Jews not to intermarry; but these sects are isolated from society and many carry unrealistic views about how we heathens live our lives. Not to mention, they are usually not fair-haired and blue-eyed, which as we all know is absolutely and undeniably horrendous.

No matter where you are from or whom you marry you can raise your children ethnically and religiously in any combination you desire. I, as a half French/half Greek Jew can choose to raise my kids as Mexican-Korean Hindus if it suits my fancy. We have choices about how we identify ourselves and our children and I am asking the Jewish community, one which knows more about closed-mindedness than any other group, to think a outside the box. It’s ludicrous that we as Jews have a problem intermarrying (which we should leave to the Greeks and Italians) but absolutely no problem driving a huge Mercedes, or Volkswagen, the chosen car of the Nazis.

Maybe it is time for us all to interbreed. One race under G-d, indivisible… that way we have no reason to doubt or hate anyone else or their race/religion or what have you. The moral of my story: Interbreed now, the world depends on it.

We’re used to insensitivity from strangers and people whose opinions don’t matter to us. But far more curious – not to mention painful – is being on the business end of rude behavior from someone we love.

I was talking to my boyfriend the other day. I was on a diatribe about how stressful my life has been in the past few weeks, how I have been coping by stuffing my face with dark chocolate, and how that has resulted in a terrible breakout on my usually blemish-free skin. The blemishes on my face have of course been adding to my stress. Joe listened and was very patient with me, which I really appreciated because it can sometimes be unpleasant and unbearably un-fun when I am on a diatribe.

The next day, the worst day of the past few weeks by far, Joe and I were driving out of the city when he said “baby, I know you have had a stressful few weeks so I have something for you.” I was grinning from ear to ear because I was sure he brought me something comforting, something I would want and crave…dark chocolate. And how sweet, I thought, that I just bought him a gift out of the blue (which by the way was a bottle of Armani Code) and now he has gone and done the same thing.

“What is it?” I asked eagerly.

He handed me a small thin tube and said, “I thought you could use this.”

As I looked into my hand a feeling of needing to hurt him came over me. He had handed me a tube of Clearasil for my face, which was ironic because I was hoping for chocolate, which would have made my face break out even more. I was so shocked that I couldn’t move or speak for at least sixty seconds. Then I rolled down the window, and threw the tube as violently as possible out the window and onto the street.

After telling this story to my friends I found out that not only has something similar happened to all of them, but with frequency and a shocking portion of the male community seems to suffer from his unidentified syndrome. Straight or gay men out there I call you to learn the etiquette of dating/relationships.

I will give you a start, a helping hand, if you will. If your significant other tells you they wants to lose weight the correct response is to honor them for where they are now: something to the effect of, “Honey you are so beautiful, you don’t need to lose weight.” Not: “Here, baby I bought you a bottle of TrimSpa.”

When I complain about my skin that means I know it is not doing well, the one I am in relationship with should assume I am taking the proper measures to take care of the problem, or that I am not and that there is nothing that he can do about it. If he wants to do something sweet for me, a more thoughtful gesture would be to get me an amazing facial at a spa or something like that.

All I am saying, gents, is to think things through a bit more. If you pretend you are sweet and thoughtful, you may begin to feel and think more thoughtfully; that place and that place only is where action toward your loved ones should come from.

If that doesn’t work, or you can’t figure it out, buy your something that won’t cause a physical or emotional allergy. Flowers are good.

Antoine Saint-Exupéry: Don't phunk with your heartHave you ever noticed that often when deciding whom to date we start out at the most shallow level? I hear myself and others saying things like, “He's not that good looking,” or, “Wow, he is amazing to look at,” as if these are the factors that will ensure we will be treated well and fall in love. I understand the importance of being attracted to the person you are romantic with, but why does appearance become the first factor in dating? Why are we as a culture completely comfortable micro-analyzing others and yet never comfortable looking inward to make constructive changes to our own dispositions? In this culture of vacuous shallowism (I know I made that word up) where everything is based on egoism, how did dating become exclusively about the other party?

When reading the other Jewcy dating columns it occurs to me that more and more we should be relying on our deeper gut instinct and not so much on what can be seen and deconstructed. I see Emily write about POP (Perfect on Paper) or Amy write about this club owner or that financier doing coke in a bathroom and making out with her on the stairs of a bar. Emily's Perfect on Paper doesn't exist and Amy seems to be dating new people all the time, as am I. None of these dates ever seems to pan out as is proven by the progression of our pieces. I am guilty of all the same judgments: I have my own version of Perfect on Paper, and surely can be easily wooed by rich guys who are attractive and connected. These, though, are not what I'm really looking for, and I would go so far to say that the behaviors drawn above conflict with my core values. Maybe now is the time to stand up and say we as a culture will not prescribe to your bullshit, we will think for ourselves and move away from shallowism.

Let's examine for a moment the idea of Perfect on Paper. We all have our idea of what this means and in truth few of us ever find our definition, perhaps because the idea itself is preposterous and impossible. If asked to define the exact definition of Perfect on Paper all of us would define it differently. To Sue it might be a lawyer or doctor, who is handsome, loving, and romantic. Sue might marry her ideal and later say it was all wrong and tell others never to marry a doctor or lawyer because they're never home and you will be constantly discontented and lonely. When will we realize that perfect doesn't exist? We are defining our “perfect” mates by some Hollywood, celluloid standard that doesn't exist. Instead we should be looking for the best match to help us grow and in turn help our mate grow.

As look back over the work of the dating bloggers, I am astounded by the common thread that runs through us all. We are supposed to talk about people and dates; instead what we are really accomplishing is putting people under an impossible microscope. I know that if I judged myself with the standards that I'm judging others, I'd have been broken up with myself a long time ago. No one can live up to the standards we set. Why not just be? Why not just enjoy our lives, be our selves and hope that someone who makes us happy, without the freight of expectation, will appear? Why must we define who other people are when it is clear that we do not even know ourselves?

People always say that love finds you when you least expect it or you always fall into a relationship when you are not looking. I am realizing the validity of these statements. When we least expect it or are not looking is when we're okay enough with ourselves and are not looking for outside validation. We are not looking for anything, so the harsh judgments, critiques, and standards of perfection are not cutting into our ability to listen and feel. Maybe that's why relationships appear when you least expect them. Perhaps it is time for us to be ourselves and let others be themselves; to find a way to celebrate the people we date with joy, humor, and grace.

I hope this helps even just one person to go out on their next date with new eyes. Sure, there are creeps, and jerks out there and that is why I am urging the single, dating community, to get rooted in self, and stop analyzing… go with the flow. If you don't like it, don't look at it. Antoine Saint Exupery makes my point exquisitely: “One sees rightly only with the heart, everything essential is blind to the eyes.”

Godspeed daters.

Have you ever noticed that every racist joke begins with, “I am not racist… but have you heard about the one where the three black men…?” Of course, then I have to say something about how I find this particular joke distasteful or offensive. The immediate reaction is, “I am not racist, I have black friends. G-d, learn how to take a joke.”

Patterns in my life emerge rapidly and men fit into the most recent one, only a few weeks old. Two most recent patterns are by told I’d make a fabulous-looking woman, and being propositioned by men in relationships.

Drag queens/transgender women telling me I’d make a fine like specimen.

Last Friday night I was out with two lesbian friends. (I collect lesbians because I love them. I keep them in a tiny china cabinet in my heart and they all know it). I was dancing and having a good time when a drag queen came up to me and said, “Why aren’t you in drag… you’re gorgeous!” STRIKE 1.

Saturday night: I was at ladies night (my favorite night because you can dance without being groped by sleazebags) with my lesbians and a transgender woman approached me to tell me that I would be divine in high heals and a mini dress. “Just look at those hips,” she said. STRIKE 2.

Monday night: Out having one beer by myself and another “woman” felt the implicit need to inform me that I would be a stunning and elegant woman, that I would need half as much makeup as she needed and could I please let her do me up as a Queen. STRIKE 3.

Do I look like a girl? I really like being a man and these comments are starting to insult me.

Men who give me their number/e-mail address on the sly because they are in relationships or dating other people.

This phenomenon has recently arisen and hopefully will cease in the near future. All of these men have been extremely kind and lovely people, who I would date if their status read: “not taken.” Ugh. I am not one to destroy my own karma or the happiness of others by pursuing an interest in dating men who are already taken. Contact with these guys – and all have been handsome, smart, and hilarious – does violate my own codes of ethical principle. Therefore, I cannot and will not pursue someone who is otherwise engaged…

I was clearly interested in Todd; I have decided that he should be a friend. Who doesn’t need a wonderful friend, right? The level/growth stage that I am at in life leads me to the conclusion that these guys shall remain friends, nothing but friends, until death do us part. The actions/direction of the aforementioned parties indicates otherwise, I will from this point forward run from the guys that want to date me although they are otherwise engaged. (Wow, could that sentence be any more Upper-West-Side-private-school-pretentious?) Who says “aforementioned” in an email to a new friend?

While accepting a date from a man who is dating someone else does not agree with my moral principles, what happens when you fall in love at first sight with one of these people? When does breaking your own code become acceptable? Since I do not have the answer I am not going to do anything with this particular guy. But… His eyes when he sang (karaoke)… must watch. His presence when you speaks… so full of life. Meeting him… refreshing and regenerative. And now I am done gushing because how unattractive is gushing? Very! Especially from me when it should be a ranting diatribe about how unattractive it is when men completely ignore the fact that they are in relationships and become pigs at the first piece of hot ass (even if it would also be a hot female ass) that walks by.

This week’s lesson: I would make a lovely woman. Unavailable men in relationships love me. I think you are all swell and thank you for reading. Wishing you peace and blessings in the New Year.