A Blessing on my Head?

Mazel tov? Mazel tov?

So, apparently I’m getting married.

♪ A blessing on their heads, mazel tov, mazel tov. ♬

Who knew? Did you know? Because I certainly didn’t. And here I thought I’d be the first to know. Or at least the second.

Such an assumption I made.

♪ To see Melina wed, mazel tov, mazel tov. ♬

Turns out, the teachers at school (and it’s a tiny little Hebrew day school in Brooklyn, if that explains anything) think I’m old, washed up, and pathetic at the ripe old age of 31. Well, they didn’t exactly say that to my face, but I got their point.

Which is this: They want there should be ♪ a canopy in store for me. ♬

They want my mother should have ♪ such a son in-law, like no-one ever saw. ♬

As for the boy(s) they have in mind: ♪ A worthy boy is he, from pious family. ♬

Oy. Vey iz mier.

I’ve known since last year that there’s been talk of making me a match.

♪ Well, somebody has to arrange the matches. Young people can’t decide these things themselves. ♬

And these potential matches might, for all I know, be direct descendants of Tzeitel and The Tailor Motel Kamzoil. I’d like to think that my friends and colleagues are well connected and want the best for me. If they haven’t given up.

But it wasn’t until this morning that I had the whole picture.

It all started when I got to school. Through no fault or effort of my own, a group of teachers in the hallway decided I looked (unusually) glamorous. Who knew a coat from the Old Navy clearance bin could work such wonders? (Me? Glamorous? No, it’s not just you. I could’ve been knocked over with a feather myself.) One of the teachers said we should leave school and go to Manhattan to “find me a cutie.”

I’ve got to interrupt this tale right here to inform you that while I appreciate the efforts, I have nothing to do with it. It’s not like I’ve been prancing around school doing this:

You see, I come from a long line of very strong, very independent, single people. Sure, I’d love to get married. But I’m also okay the way things are. So why my colleagues are going on and on about marrying me off, I can only guess.

Here are some highlights of the discussion that was going on behind my back (but right in front of my face):

1. “The girl [that’d be me, hi] goes to shul but she doesn’t go out.” (As you can imagine, this statement did wonders for my non hip and up-and-coming self image. It’s also not true. Let’s all take a moment to remember the glory that was Noah.)

2. “She really should look into online dating.” (Um. . . Yeah, I know I’m the computer teacher and have a reputation that involves a well publicized Internet addiction, but: A. How do you people know I haven’t? B. I write romance novels and chick lit. There’s nothing wrong with online dating, but for now I have hope that my personal story will be something else.)

3. “She has to stay away from Mrs. X and Mrs. Y, because their single daughters are her competition.” (To which I respond thusly: You people can’t be serious.)

This was followed by talk of which teachers have sons my age. A few do, but sadly (actually, to my relief), they’re taken.

But not to worry. These sons have friends, and friends of friends, who are probably hearing about the sad, pathetic old-maid-that-is-me as we speak.

If they haven’t heard about me already.

So, dear teacher friends and yentes, all I ask is this. I’m well aware of the reality that I have absolutely no say in this matter. My uncle has informed me that these things are “always decided by committee.”

But please keep this in mind:

♪ ♬ ♩Playing with matches

A girl can get burned

So,

Bring me no ring

Groom me no groom

Find me no find

Catch me no catch

Unless he’s a matchless match! ♬ ♫ ♩

Like I said. I’m fine with things the way they are. I mean that sincerely. But, I guess this scenario wouldn’t be so terrible either:

If the teachers succeed in their mission, I’ll invite you all to the wedding. That is, if they give me any advanced warning about it. I’m thinking they might get the new school rabbi to walk into class with a nice Jewish locksmith and a chuppah and perform the ceremony right in front of the SMARTBoard. (Kidding. Sort of.)

See you there!