"I have a great guy for you. He's 6'3"!"
Silence.
"And . . ?"
"Um, he's 6'3"!"
Golly gee, I have noticed that I am taller than most women. Yet as I proved with enough men, height is no indicator of compatibility. Take a happily married couple of fifty years, and ask them what was the basis of their long and steady relationship; chances are it is not going to be "Well, we both have green eyes."
A few years ago I had read an article in either Bazaar or Vogue about a really tall gal (taller than me), who stumbles across a man a foot taller than her. Bliss! They merrily date, objects of amusement to passerby—best of all, she can wear heels! Divinity!
Until that fateful lunch when she realized: They have nothing to talk about. Nothing. Height does not a timeless bond make.
A few years ago I had read an article in either Bazaar or Vogue about a really tall gal (taller than me), who stumbles across a man a foot taller than her. Bliss! They merrily date, objects of amusement to passerby—best of all, she can wear heels! Divinity!
Until that fateful lunch when she realized: They have nothing to talk about. Nothing. Height does not a timeless bond make.
I am interested in character; I really don't mind if Han doesn't tower over me. Ironically, in my experience, guys take my height as a personal affront. I wonder if the Star Trek: TNG episode "Angel One," where all the male crew drool over the tall women of the planet, was just an elaborate hoax at my expense.
As we know with shidduch profiles, misinformation proliferates. Male descriptions of their own height tend to be . . . exaggerated.
However, no one has, as yet, been able to accurately describe a potential date with any form of accuracy when it comes to personality. "Nice" guys have, in many cases, caused Webster's Dictionary to wail in defeat. Vocabulary takes on a whole new dimension when dating.
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| He finds her height so alluring he doesn't want to return to Earth! |
However, no one has, as yet, been able to accurately describe a potential date with any form of accuracy when it comes to personality. "Nice" guys have, in many cases, caused Webster's Dictionary to wail in defeat. Vocabulary takes on a whole new dimension when dating.
In my narrow criteria of seeking a mind-marriage (not a mind-meld, although that would be pretty cool), no one can truly confirm the actual criteria I desire. Who can testify to another's intellect? The guy whose mother asked if I was an intellectual, but he couldn't handle any of the miscellaneous trivia I have rattling about in my brain?
Therefore, the only way to know what someone is like is to actually have a conversation with them. Tedious, but true; it must be done.
Therefore, the only way to know what someone is like is to actually have a conversation with them. Tedious, but true; it must be done.
But I still need a little more information than his height. If that's all I cared about, my ideal spouse would be Big Bird.
8 comments:
Of all the tall girls I know (criteria 5'8 and up)only one married a guy tall enough for her to wear heels. (He was 6'8, my friend 5'9, at their chuppa his face was hidden by the decorative drape that trimmed the edge of the canopy!) All the others married guys who where the same height - maybe a drop taller, the girls wear flats the men black hats :)
And then my sister who's 5'1 married a guy who's 6'3. :)
"the only way to know what someone is like is to actually have a conversation with them" Do phone conversations count?? They're usually nervous and its hard to feel any real chemistry
I love reading your blog- it's so refreshing to see that some people still have some perspective! Sometimes I feel like I have found a twin soul here... All the way down to being a bit of a tomboy who also happens to think you should wear makeup and look your best... Looking forward to reading more!
SI: Yet all the men that cross my path who are my height or SLIGHTLY shorter grumble. Hm.
Anon: No, in my experience, phone conversations do not count. Without the benefit of body language and the like, they can be real red herrings. One of the best phone conversations I ever had (running more than an hour) preceded a colossal FAIL of a date.
Face-to-face only.
Nachliele: Goodness me, I am a sucker for complimentary feedback; you really made my day! I'm so happy that there is an audience out there that relates to me, and I can relate to!
Just to clarify, I'm a wannabe tomboy. I wanted to be that girl who climbs trees and plays basketball. I'm afraid of heights and can't throw or catch to save my life. It's my secret shame.
Aha- ever the honest one! Well, I'm not the hugest sports maven ever, but I will climb pretty much anything, love cars and a good shot of Scotch and I am usually the one to handle the medical or insect emergencies :) On the other hand, though, I constantly give the people I see in the street makeovers- mentally, of course-; I love makeup, wear heels whenever I can - and hate when people apply both of the above improperly; I am the one who is always lending out my hats, scarves, statement jewelry, belts to everyone; the one they call for fashion advice- you get the picture. I agree with pretty much everything I've read here so far- the subjects that stand out most in my head are eating properly- and knowing how to indulge; feeling emotion, but still remembering how you look on the outside (that post you had about that chosson with the red nose and flailing hands! I was howling with laughter and nodding in agreement at the same time! I totally agree!); remembering to be a lady/gentleman- on the outside AND on the inside; and I especially loved the post I saw from last year Purim, about dressing up beautifully instead of plain weird or ugly- especially since I was taking inspiration from the same movie for my kids' costumes! How's that for telepathy?!
And the costumes were gorgeous, of course... ;)
Sports? Not me! Although medical emergencies is my thing, since I watched too much "House" so I think I know everything, plus I come running out of my bathroom with tea tree oil every time someone gets a scratch.
Ah, the mental makeover! Plight of my existence. I was at a vort the other night and my hand kept itching to whip out the mascara and lipstick. "Just a touch! Please! Trust me! No officer, I was not harassing this woman."
That chosson did such a number on me. I feel like I'm in a reality show now whenever I go to a wedding. The moment of suspense . . . will I get punked?
Ooh, you went authentic Persian on your kids' costumes? Stuuuuning! Much better than anything involving oversize bananas . . .
You flatter me totally that you remember my posts! I'm giggling like a schoolgirl.
Well, I do love your blog... Somehow whenever I'm putting on eyeliner or doing my nightly face routine [:)] I always think of some post or other I read here... And it does tend to feel really weird when I read posts here and it's like I'm hearing myself think! So I tend to remember those...
Would love to send you pics of the kids' costumes- but I don't post my email address here and I don't see yours here either- and I can't seem to paste a pic in the comments box. Any ideas?
You can email me at frumanista@gmail.com. I don't put it on display for all and sundry, but for you, I shall definitely make an exception. Looking forward to the photo!
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