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By Allison Schein, January 17, 2011 6:00 am

via babywit.com

While cuddling on the couch one evening, I nuzzled into my boyfriend’s side, squeezing him tight and rubbing his belly, and said, “you’re like a six-foot tall teddy bear.”

To which he replied, “a big, cuddly, panda teddy bear.”

I quickly shot up. He looked at me, puzzled, as I stared back, trying to figure out if he was a mind reader, or if this was just an eerie coincidence.

For the longest time, I had been preaching this theory I had about relationships. The theory involved pandas, and here my boyfriend was, proudly declaring he was one. This was a problem, as my theory revolved around the fact that I did not get along with pandas, because I was not a panda, but a lion, and if there were ever two animals in the animal kingdom that were not suited to get along, they were the lion and the panda.

It all started when I broke up with a guy I briefly dated. I likened our relationship to how a lion and panda might get along, given their polar-opposite personalities. Lions were headstrong, fierce, and energetic, and pandas were… well, pandas. They were soft and cuddly, but trying to get them to do anything other than eat bamboo or sit in a tree was an exercise in futility.

In my head, our conversations went a little something like this:

“I’m hungry, let’s go find some antelope or something.”

“But I want to stay on this branch.”

“Food. Let’s go, it’s already two o’clock.”

“But I want to stay on this branch.”

“RAWR FOOD NOW RAWR.”

“I… I don’t understand…. Branch?”

“RAAAAWWWRRR!!! I’M GONNA EAT YOU, PANDA!…. Hey, um, can you at least run a little or fall off the branch or something? The chase is half the fun.” Continue reading 'The Lion And The Panda'»

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By Allison Schein, September 20, 2010 6:30 am

via lickthebowlgood

Religion is a funny thing. Last week the Jewish high holidays happened, and every year right about now, I tend to get introspective and unordinarily gung-ho about “recommitting” myself to Judaism (or whatever you want to call efforts I should be making year-round to not be considered the horrible Jew I am).

I don’t think you have to follow all the rules and believe every story to be part of a religion. In fact, one of the things I love about Judaism, in extremely simple terms, is that it’s so much more than a religion.

Religion is just a small part of what’s involved in being a Jew. But then again, anyone who’s ever seen an episode of Seinfeld or been to a Channukah party knows that.

The high holidays, for my gentile friends not in the know, consist of two main parts, the first being Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year. It’s a two-night holiday that starts a ten-day period of introspection (that’s actually supposed to go on the entire month leading up to Rosh Hashanah), capped off by the second part of the holidays, Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement, which you may know as the day we sit schvitzing in temple, saying “I’m sorry” and promising to be better Jews, all the while bitching about our growling stomachs and how it’s totally not fair that we can’t even chew gum to hold us over.

Now, I openly admit that I’m a bad Jew. I don’t go to synagogue, I don’t keep kosher (I sincerely believe if God really didn’t want us to eat bacon, he wouldn’t have made it so delicious), I wear polyester… But every year at Rosh Hashanah, I get nostalgic for Hebrew school and retreats and baking challah and singing and, believe it or not, sitting in temple.

Of course, I’m sitting at my desk as I write this, having awkwardly dodged my boss’s question of why I wasn’t in temple today. But it means something that it’s at least on my mind, right? Continue reading 'I Can Have My Bacon And Eat It, Too'»

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By Allison Schein, August 30, 2010 8:00 am

via onely.org

My friend and I were recently lamenting our lacking love lives when the conversation turned into a proverbial pissing match of self-deprecation.

“I won’t meet anyone anytime soon. I’m just not that attractive.”

“Shut up. At least you have people interested in you.”

“At least you get past the second date.”

“Whatever, it’s not like it goes much farther than that.”

“It would if you’d stop being so picky.”

Wait, what? Picky? Moi? I am many things—careful, honest, logical—but picky? Someone who refuses to try new restaurants because she only eats chicken and rice is picky. Someone who refuses to compromise on traits she deems integral to a man’s character isn’t picky—she’s reasonable.

I tried to explain this to my friend, and what started as a simple discussion quickly morphed into a Supreme Court trial. She maintained that dumping a guy for singular reasons isn’t justifiable. I argued that dumping a guy because talking to him makes me want to slit my wrists just to entertain myself is completely justifiable.

As we continued to disagree, it was apparent that the crux of our dispute lay in the old, horrible, terribly over-generalized adage, “beggars can’t be choosers.” The fundamental problem with this saying is that it implies that asking for something—in this case, a date—is begging. But what if the person in question isn’t actually desperate?

If I’m sitting home alone every night, crying about how I need a boyfriend to complete my life, whining that a penis and a pulse are all I need, then I would have to agree with my friend. Continue reading 'I'm Picky, And I'm Proud Of It'»

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By Allison Schein, August 2, 2010 8:00 am

via someecards.com

To some, online dating is a shamefully self-destructive activity: Men and women, dissatisfied with traditional methods of finding a mate, feed their dating hunger by sifting through the week-old garbage that are online dating sites, stuffing their faces with the refuse of the masses until they overindulge and sit in the shower, rocking back and forth, wailing, “why did I do this to myself? Why?! WHYYYYY?!!!”

Or that’s how it seems to me, after witnessing people’s reactions when I come out of the online dating closet.

Um, guys? What’s the big deal? Why is online dating so disgraceful? I must be missing something here because I honestly don’t see how it’s different from any other method of finding someone.

Okay, I understand why some people might think online dating is a sign of desperation, and that dating sites are a last resort for people who can’t function in the rough-and-tumble realities of in-person dating. After all, the online dater is on a mission to find someone—and is sometimes paying to do so.

But critics forget that not everyone dating online is an idealistic virgin looking to get married right this second. There are millions of people on different sites, from all socioeconomic, educational, and ethnic backgrounds, with varying levels of dating and relationship experience.

Everyone always says that thing about the fish in the sea. Well, online dating sites are that sea. Casting a line in it is as easy as checking a few boxes and clicking “search.” Bait the hook with a nice-lookin’ snapshot, and you’re good to go.

Naysayers also don’t like to admit how efficient online dating is. Continue reading 'What's Wrong With Online Dating?'»

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By Allison Schein, May 6, 2010 9:43 pm

Image by aylaujp via Flickr

A friend and I were recently discussing her breakup when she said something I’d been thinking for at least a year now.

“I feel kind of like a bad person,” she started, “but is it too much to ask to want to date a guy who meets a certain intelligence requirement?”

My answer: absolutely not.

Now, my friend’s ex wasn’t necessarily an idiot. He was successful in what he did, pulled in a decent salary, and generally seemed like he had his act together. The problem was, for my friend at least, that he never finished high school. I’ve been in similar situations, where the guys I dated either dropped out of college or were finishing their associate’s degree, and each time, I came to the same conclusion as my friend.

The main issue was that they had no desire to educate themselves, and having conversations with these guys was like pulling teeth with no nitrous. Sentences had to be repeated; words had to be defined; background information had to be established. By the time all that was squared away, no one even cared about the conversation anymore. It was exhausting, not to mention frustrating. I mean, really? You don’t know there are three branches of government? Or who Stephen Hawking is? How is that possible? Continue reading 'Intellect Required'»