Are Responsible People Missing Something?

This morning I opened my inbox to several shidduch suggestions. There was the 29-year-old guy from Australia who worked in Argentina then Germany then moved to Israel where he plans to live and learn for many years to come. Not so bad, just not for me.

Then there was the 30-year-old guy in California who has four college degrees plus various technical certificates who wants to go to medical school–but not ’til next year. Until then he’s learning. Oookay. He won’t finish paying back his student loans until he’s dead.

Then there’s the 31-year-old guy with the Harvard Business School degree who is learning while dabbling in stocks on the side. There’s a waste of a degree.

How did guys cop out of life before learning became a Thing?

When I complained to my flatmate, she pointed out that 30 is a really lousy time to have a job. “Who in their right mind gets a job when they’re young? It’s the best years of your life! Why would you waste it working all day? Get a job when you’re 80 and can’t do anything else anyway!” she ranted. She might have been upset about doing lesson plans on Sunday.

I hear her point.

Do these underemployed guys know something we don’t know? Who the heck needs a 401k anyway? By the time we retire we’ll either be in a welfare state or the world will have collapsed. Right? Wrong? Why the heck don’t so many 30-year-old men have jobs?!

Postscript: [added 2/19/2013]

Since it is apparently unclear who this post is targeting, I will add the following anecdote.

Yesterday, someone told me, “I went to college, I got a degree, I did the Real World job thing, and I didn’t like it. So I went back to school for a masters in dance therapy. It’s a lot of fun and I’m looking for a position in a hospital working with sick kids.”

This was a non-Jewish woman. She did Real Life, she didn’t like it, but she didn’t have the option of retiring to live on her independent income. So she considered carefully and switched careers.

Jewish men, however, do have an alternative. And that is to retire from Real Life to Learn. When I see a guy with a degree in something boring who is learning, my radar goes on. If he’s got a year of work experience, it starts blipping.  If I’m on a date and he makes a face while saying, “I guess I have to get a job now,” well, that pretty much says it.  And if he’s got a year of experience, then got another degree, then worked briefly again, then decided to learn… Seriously, am I the only one who sees this as a sign?

Don’t get me wrong, Jewish women do this too. I often hear singles claiming they just want to be housewives. Run a finger over their windowsill — does it come away clean? Is there nary a dish in their sink? Do they spend their recreational time over the stove? Do they adore children and want to spend all day with them? Rarely. They just don’t want to work. Since learning is not an option, they just have to hope for a rich husband instead.*

Hm… maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’m just jealous.

*Before someone jumps down my throat about disparaging housewives: I think it’s a wonderful thing to have a homemaker. And there are women who genuinely want to be there for their husband and kids. But when a woman says, wistfully, “I would make a great housewife” shortly after hating on her job, I suspect her motives.

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I was a bit put out to hear that one commenter’s mother thinks my outlook is too jaded. Me? Jaded? I’m not jaded. Jaded is when you’re bored by dating and are no longer excited at the idea of dressing up and meeting an interesting new guy. I’m always excited when I go out. In fact, now more than ever, because now I won’t go out with anyone who doesn’t sound exci… wait, that’s not jaded. That’s just experienced.

Okay, fine. Maybe a tad. This is why we have Friday reposts. To hearken back to the carefree days of skipping down Avenue J with nothing more weighty on my mind than the length of my skirt… and the Women in Black who were measuring it.

Yes, I know. I seem to obsess about dating. That’s cuz this is a dating blog. That means I write about things related to dating and being single and so on. It’s a topical blog, and that’s how topical goes. In real life I hardly ever talk about dating. Can’t seem to keep my friends from talking about it to me (as if I’m interested, guys! Well, just the bad date stories. Those I collect), but for the record, I’m not the one who brings it up.

Yeah really. Once Apple was picked out from a threesome of bloggers as the most likely Bad4 because she spent an entire afternoon complaining about crummy dates. I was just sitting there and taking mental notes. Thanks girlfriend! I got, like, three posts out of that afternoon. And complete anonymity.

Not that I’m perfectly contented. (And who is? That would stymie progress.) In my perfect life, I’d be engaged about now. But who ever lives their perfect life? In all the big things, I mean. Somehow the little things are always peaches and cream. But there have been times when I was very frustrated because life didn’t work out how I’d hoped and I was positive things would be – well, not rotten, but fairly mediocre. Of course they weren’t. In fact, every time, in retrospect, the way things actually worked out was infinitely better than how I’d planned them.

In fact, after a whole series of such occurrences I promised myself that I’d never plan again; I’d just go with the flow. That lasted about – oh – three and a half years. I’ve been really good about it, honest. But every now and then you hit an important crossroads when you just want to know. And I don’t.

So, does uncertainty stink? Yes. Am I depressed, obsessive, and miserable? Um, no.

If you don’t know me, you’ll have to trust me on this one. (If you do, be honest: am I?)