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Jewish Journal

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dating

Trafficking in Futility

Teresa Strasser July 23, 1998

I was caught in the cruel cogs of a heartless machine. I was stripped of my humanity and dignity. I was without representation or recourse.

I was in traffic court.

Learning ‘Romance’ Language

Stephen A. Simon July 16, 1998

Berlitz won\’t help. You can\’t listen to tapes in the car. And the Foreign Service programs ignore it completely.

It\’s a \”romance\” language, but the subjunctive is the least of your problems.

Singles

Jewish Journal June 11, 1998

I must admit, I have a soft spot for the man I\’ll call \”Pizza Guy.\”\n\nHe writes me almost weekly to report his trials and tribulations in the helter-skelter world of food distribution and to comment on my columns. Sure, his first letter was a little frightening, what with psychotic penmanship and \”screen play ideas\” doodled in the margins. Still, he takes the time to write, and I can\’t help but be flattered by his missives.

Force of Nature

Marlene Adler Marks June 4, 1998

Where does a parent — a Jewish mother — begin a frank consideration of her daughter\’s sexuality? As the Zen master says, you have to start from where you are, and then let it flow.

Singles

Teresa Strasser May 14, 1998

I\’m not mental. Really. I\’m not manic-depressive,hypomanic, borderline schizophrenic or psychotic. I don\’t hear voicesor imagine I\’m being followed by Marie Osmond. I don\’t have tics or acompulsive need to wash my hands or avoid cracks in thesidewalk.
Like a lot of people, I could just use someone totalk to. That\’s all. I figure it can\’t hurt.

After all, my family is like a Who\’s Who of mentalillness.

Driving Miss Lazy

Teresa Strasser April 9, 1998

Usually, I\’m so used to the clutter that has accumulated inmy 1986 Honda Civic that I don\’t even notice it. Now and again,however, I squint and think to myself, \”Why am I seated in a mobilegarbage can?\”

Singles

Jewish Journal March 12, 1998

Singles

Kissing A Lot of Frogs

Teresa Strasser February 12, 1998

I am standing in the doorway looking at my first blind date, I\’mthinking: somebody could have said something about — how do I saythis tactfully — his face.

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