Archive for the ‘Weddings’ Category

Recently, two former JDaters came to us with two separate requests asking for help in creating two distinct marriage proposals for their two respective girlfriends (whom both met on JDate). Talk about a one-two (proposal) punch!

Of course we jumped at the opportunity to help each of these lovesick lads, but working with two different men meant we needed to make each proposal as unique, unexpected and unforgettable as possible. It was a challenge we gladly accepted!

For the first, we utilized our Times Square digital billboard as Bachelor Number One (AKA Dan) popped the question in the midst of Times Square with thousands of people watching. For the second, we pulled off a bit of Hollywood magic to help Bachelor Number Two (AKA Howard) make his unsuspecting girlfriend believe she was being interviewed for a JDate success story testimonial shoot.

Both women were completely surprised by these two magical marriage proposals, but did they say, “yes”? You’ll just have to watch to find out!

Watch The Ultimate NYC Proposal

Go Behind The Scenes Of A Real LA Love Story

We’re celebrating more than just the beginning of the Jewish New Year. A new study confirms that JDate is responsible for more Jewish marriages than all other dating sites combined. Of course we already knew this was true, but now we have the facts to back it up.

We recently commissioned an independent research company, ResearchNow, to survey nearly 1,000 married Jewish internet users. One of the most compelling findings: JDate is responsible for 52% of the marriages that started online, while only 17% of those surveyed met on Match.com® and 10% on eHarmony®.

Those who were surveyed were more likely to find a date on JDate than on any other online dating site. In fact, 63% of all online dates came from JDate. That’s three times more than Match and nine times more than eHarmony.

We couldn’t be happier about JDate’s success and contribution to the Jewish community, and are thrilled to share the good news!

Additional Highlights

·         5 out of 9 Jews married since 2008 used online dating during their search

·         63% of online dates amongst Jews originated at JDate

·         76% of Jewish online daters use JDate

·         Match.com’s President even used JDate

It’s been two days since the apocalypse. Judgment day has passed. Sinners have been punished, and the righteous were flown to heaven on angel wings. My most awkward moment from a life filled with uncomfortable silences and even more uncomfortable silences was pretty anti-climactic. Long story longer, a girl from JDate who stopped talking to me when I was fat and started talking to me again after I lost some weight, happened to be running a wedding of two very good friends of mine. Before the wedding, we went on a date that didn’t go too well. Afterwards, I told her I’d let her know when I lost some weight.

So she was at the wedding, but we were friendly-ish and successfully avoided each other for most of the night. One minute I’msitting at my table with my best friends, the next minute I’m lying in my bed, wearing a suit with a t-shirt over it, with two pairs of boxers on. Also, most of the items in my room are completely trashed. Since I couldn’t remember the end of the night, I asked my bestie what happened. She answered that I should get tested for an STD. After that, she said nothing. If you only remember two things before you die, one should be the knowledge that you should never tell an OCD patient that he should be tested for sexually transmitted diseases and then not tell him anything about what happened. She wouldn’t answer me when my OCD-induced panic kicked in, and I hurriedly tried to reach anybody else that went to the wedding.

I woke up the next morning at 5:30 am after a night filled with dreams about dying covered withback sweat. I went to work, but all I could think about was whatever horrible disease I had contracted during a night I didn’t remember. My friend finally called me and told me that she was just kidding. Hilarious.

Kids, I am about to experience the most awkward situation of my life. The Countdown to this moment is set for 72 hours from now. I’ve worked for this my entire life. All of the times I called Erica in junior high and asked her to go out with me. All of the times I nervously walked around and pretended that I was okay being the only person without somebody to slow dance with at Bar Mitzvah parties when I was not okay with it at all. All of the times I was in a movie theater with Sarah (that one just happened once).

Now kids, in order to understand the upcoming awkward encounter, we have to go back a few months. Maybe six months. Let’s say six months. Six months. I was about 60 pounds heavier, and my JDate pictures reflected that weight discrepancy. It was relatively more difficult to receive and maintain a conversation with a girl. I managed to talk to the same girl via IM several times, until she looked past my main profile picture that made me look a lot less fat. After she saw all of my pictures, she bolted and I didn’t talk to her again.

After I lost a good amount of weight, I changed my profile pictures. After the new me surfaced, the same girl initiated an IM with me. This was unprecedented. Was she only talking to me because I was thinner? Probably. Did I care? Nope. We talked several more times. We soon learned that, coincidentally, she was going to be in charge of the food at the wedding of two good friends of mine in a couple of weeks. We then planned a date together. I took her out to eat and see a movie. It was fun. After the date, I texted her thanking her. She didn’t respond until I texted her again the next day. She responded saying something along the lines of wanting to be just friends. Though it was pretty much what I expected, and I was certainly used to that rejection notice, I impulsively shot her a text saying that I would let her know when I got thinner. She asked why I said that, and I didn’t know really. We both somehow decided to be friends without really meaning it.

Anyway, the wedding is three days from now, and though this situation does seem like a crock-pot of awkwardness, anything involving myself should be taken seriously. Actually, it might not be awkward at all, unless, of course, she reads this post, which is entirely possible because I told her on the date that I was a blogger for JDate.

Because my local repertoire of men to out with is scant this week, and an ex will be in town, he will be attending a wedding with me as my date this weekend. I reached out to his girlfriend, a friend as well, to put aside any concerns that I’ve an interest in anything beyond a platonic good time with her domestic partner. I’m so happy to report the complete veracity of my assertion. Whereas in the past I could made a hobby of revisiting past feelings at the slightest circumstantial provocation, such as the consumption of one drink, I’ve grown tired of cyclical thought in my late 20s. She, for her part, is permissive, allowing him to consume quality finger food in my presence, many hundreds of miles from their home.

While having a date is not necessary, as this is not a high school reunion or anything, I enjoy having a sidekick, especially one savvy enough to know to mingle elsewhere should a candidate for my own future matrimonial celebration present himself at the reception.

Sunday marked the 17^th anniversary of my mother and stepfather’s marriage. For making it this far, they received a congratulatory phone call from me. 

Quite cognizant at ten years of existence, I was still not precocious enough to obliterate my memory of the simcha with the aid of its open bar. Thus, I remember the proceedings quite well. What stands out in my mind most is the chuppah, the glass breaking, a limo ride from synagogue to reception, and radishes cut to look like blooming flowers. This was impressive imagery in the eyes of the child that I was.

I will admit on behalf of nearly all women that no matter how cool we are or appear to be, we give semi-regular thought to our future wedding day, no matter how single we are. While my goal in planning this event will be to avoid convention in the form of cheesy djs and windowless hotel conference rooms, I like the idea of carrying out the traditional elements of a Jewish wedding ceremony. However, my wedding will also feature broken glass of the inadvertent variety, as my friends can become sloppy when they are really happy.

Over the weekend I attended one of those rare (by today’s standards) weddings where the bride and groom are still excited about their relationship. The couple met three years ago to the day, meaning not so long ago that the nuptials were merely a legal formality. These guys are clearly still in love, and the pair made it clear in their vows that they believe their union, which began at a Purim party, was fated.

While I don’t know if my philosophies on life jive with pre-ordination, I do know that it was at least a terrific coincidence (or perhaps intelligent design of the bridal variety) that seated me at dinner next to the bridesmaid and her boyfriend. She and I got to talking, and I learned that we share a love of writing about love, particularly of the online Jewish variety. An exchange of emails means we may do so in a collaborative fashion in the future. To top off this excitement, she and her boyfriend are a match made in JDate heaven.

Meanwhile, during the reception, I conducted a textual flirtation with a coworker I’ve discussed here, with whom I’ve made amends, making jokes in a style terrifying to men about the gathering of tossed bouquets. When this traditional game of catch arrived, as always, I lost out due to my physical timidity, lack of hand-eye coordination, and perhaps lack of will. Because I do not have a real boyfriend, I was happy enough to be pushed aside by the bridesmaid, who is pretty serious with her doctor beau. I hope the very tasteful flower arrangement yields good things for this JDate duo.

Last night in the street, I encountered the best friend of a guy I had liked too much. Too much, given that my affinity for this self-described scum bag had everything to do with his je ne sai quoi and nothing to do with the quality of his character. By the time I was home an hour later, said scum bag had emailed a casual invitation to play tennis.

This morning, as I packed my dress away for yet another matrimonial celebration, I looked at a picture of the bride and groom to be and had a revelation. Maybe in the maturity of my late 20s, I should strive to fight against my will, which lends itself to repeated mistakes with card-carrying members of the jerk society. Whatever, I’ve got enough 2011 resolutions as it is. Spring is here and it is time to brush the dust off the old racket.

As more close friends announce their engagements, I remain firm in my commitment to enjoying single life for as long as it lasts, playing the part of apathetic bouquet catcher again, with the full knowledge that a wedding of my own is not exactly in my cards for the foreseeable future. However, having spent the past few days in a very different sort of environment than my home in Brooklyn, I am being confronted firsthand with the accelerated option of love legalization. In between praying that my $1 dollar becomes $5 at the penny slots I am observing chapels of eloping couples here in Vegas where I am on vacation with my parents. Speaking of which, vacationing with my parents is never beneficial to my dating life, as I always return from our destinations fatter. Well I must be off now. I’m meeting them at the hotel’s complimentary all-you-can-eat lunch in a bit, and need to punch an extra hole in my belt beforehand.

This weekend I went down to visit my parents. This is always a wonderful opportunity to both eat well (my mother made a kugel because I missed out on Rosh Hashanah) and have conversations that creatively segue into the topic of my future (my stepfather in ominous tones warned me of the perils of careers without health benefits).

On our way to brunch, we drove past some multi-million dollar homes in northwest Washington, DC. A benign observation from moi regarding the mansions’ architectural merits provoked a very loaded response from my mother.

Me: These houses are nice.
Mom: That’s why I want you to move back to the area, get a job here, get married to a nice guy with a nice job, and move into one of them.

Sure, I’ll get right on that. Any JDaters® out there want to collaborate with me on this project? I think my monthly salary would definitely cover yard upkeep and cat food. If you can pick up the rest of the tab, I am in. For your part, you will receive an optimistic mother in-law and a wife with no pre-existing conditions and therefore a good catch as far as health insurance premiums are concerned.