“Where’d we meet? On an app called J-Swipe. Oh, you don’t know it? Well, it’s an app where Jews can swipe left or right on other Jews. It’s also location-based, so you can see all the Jews in your immediate vicinity. Basically I looked at my app and was like, ‘What’s that, a Jew 2 blocks away? Sounds convenient– let’s do this!’ No no, don’t give me that look. This was not a sleazy late night meeting. I know people refer to J-Swipe as the Jewish Tinder, but it’s really not the same reputation. And besides, Tinder doesn’t even have that slutty rep anymore! I totally know people who have found true love on Tinder. But anyway, I think the fact that it’s a Jewish site makes it inherently less one-night-stand-ish because, I mean, if you’re a Jew specifically looking for another Jew, you presumably are probably wanting more than just a one-night ‘wham bam thank you jewish ma’am?’ Don’t you think?”
“Oh, I’m sorry…I thought we were in the trust tree…in the nest. Are we not?”
— Conversation I envision happening when we meet with our wedding rabbi.
Co-teacher (helping a kid write his historical fiction story): “If the colonial man in your story is chopping down a tree and the tree is falling, what might he yell out?”
Kid: (blank stare)
Coteacher: “Starts with a T…”
Kid: “Oh! TINDER!!!!!!”
Eric is still holding a grudge from that time, back in the spring, when I rejected his invitation to a Mumford and Sons concert, especially now that I have a growing appreciation for live music (thanks to him).
“I’m getting on that piece of wood with you.”
— Eric, making it very clear what he will do should we find ourselves in the same situation as Rose and Jack after the Titanic sank.
(Part of the Sassy Pedicurist series)
Many people have been asking me what has happened to Sassy Pedicurist, as we haven’t heard from her in a while.
I’m not quite sure. I have had my nails done many times in the past several months, and she has not been at the salon. She used to be there almost every single time, and now she has virtually disappeared. It’s as though she sensed that I found a man, and now her work here is done.
I’m starting to question if she ever even existed.
Just now in our faculty meeting, the emergency contact sheet (where we write our full name and the name/number of one person to contact in case of emergency) was passed around because it hasn’t been updated in a while. We were asked to look over the information we had provided years ago and update it accordingly.
By the time the sheet got to me, dozens of people had crossed out their former last names and written their new married names. I felt pretty proud that when I looked at my information, I could cross out and replace the last name, too.
Of my emergency contact.
Because she got married.
So, you know. That’s exciting.
That moment when the guy you’re dating asks you to please stop referring to him on your blog as “the guy I’m dating.”
As referenced here, my friend Moss has repeatedly made the argument that I am far less funny when I’m happy with a guy.
I think that’s an outrageous and completely baseless claim.
Just check out my monthly blog stats, guys!!!!
Coach and I met last week of April and….