If I had to pick out the adventurous girl in a crowd, Jill would be one of the last I’d point to. Whether that has to do with my horrible perception or her initial caginess, I don’t know. But she surprised me at almost every turn as she crawled out of her proverbial cage. She loves watching sports. Her favorites are basketball, football … and boxing. Seriously?
Erin’s a selfish girl. She’s spent 12 years working as a registered nurse, specializing in adult critical care and pediatric post-surgical care. Her last seven vacations have been to Asia and South America, though instead of getting her hair braided and lying on a beach, she spent all day in surgery volunteering with a program called ReSurge International that does reconstructive surgery on the world’s poor. I gave a dollar to a homeless guy a few days ago, and I’m still waiting for my trophy. And now this selfish girl has me feeling “less than.” How dare she.
Gary’s brother, Jason, is a recent single peep. And, like Jason, Gary’s a nice, easygoing guy.
I’ve become fascinated with meeting single peeps who are only children. Sarica is one of them. Whatever negatives there are growing up without siblings, the positives are immediately apparent. Sarica, like others I’ve met, is overachieving, confident and a natural leader. She also happens to be really smart.
Aimee was born and raised in Memphis, Tenn., but went to college in upstate New York to get as far away from the South as possible.
Lisa describes herself as looking like Shirley Temple, “But I’m spicy — not vanilla.” She’s originally from New York, then moved to San Francisco for 12 years.
Jason lives in the same building as I do and shares an apartment with two friends from high school. During our interview him for this profile, one of the roommates, Rebecca, wanders around the house, eavesdropping.
I met Eva this year as part of EILI, an entertainment leadership group through The Jewish Federation.
Ian grew up with two much older sisters, but “I was kind of like an only child … good life, good childhood, maids … I even had a wet nurse.”
Esther walks into Starbucks to sit down with me, recognizes a young guy at the table next to us and gives him a hug. “He’s my acting coach.” She sits down, continuing, “I noticed people come off kvetchy [in the column]. I want to come off on a higher level. On a sophisticated level.” Her accent is the Jewish Bronx of the 1940s.
