Words on a screen

Internet dating is a strange animal. It's not new to me. I dated online back in the Internet "Stone Age," long before Match.com, Yahoo Personals or True. It has it's pluses and minuses but over all the goal was the same...to meet a nice person you can relate to and hopefully build to something nice, good, maybe long lasting.

What was bad? There was no sorting of prospects. I would "meet" someone online only to discover this fantastic guy lived in Finland. Well, dating someone in Finland when you live in Missouri isn't very convenient. He wrote great letters though.

The good, well, every man I met was at least in college or a professional. Back then the only Internet access available was through college (that's how I got on) or through a job, a PROFESSIONAL job. I wasn't meeting ditch diggers, ya' know...not that there is anything wrong with the honorable profession of providing ditches. The most impressive thing was the amount of responses I would get from one posting...a minimum of 75 men would respond...almost all professionals with the occasional e-mail of someone only talking about sex.

Here's the ambiguous part of maybe it was good, maybe it was bad...there were no photos and just text to read. If you like reading like I do, it wasn't such a hassle. If you are a visual person and want the sorting and bells and whistles we have today, you would be out of luck.

But through all that dating, one still has to ask themselves when does the person on the other side of that message stop being just words on a screen and becomes a human being? I thought that issue would be long gone with photos and personality sorting but apparently it has not. People can text, chat, email for months and when meeting face to face STILL only see an object before them. It is perplexing to me how someone can talk to another human being for so long and STILL break that person down to just a group of body parts.

So what is a person to do when you find that your efforts to connect have resulted in yourself being viewed only as a masturbatory aide? You get up and leave.

Dating over the color line

I have been accused of -only- wanting to date white men. That isn't such a huge deal until people realize I'm a black woman. The assumption that I believe black men aren't good enough is not only inaccurate, it's annoying.

I have dated black men in the past, I would in the future if a decent one showed interest. There's the rub...what do I consider a decent black man? well, what do I consider a decent man? Does skin color really make a difference here? Anyone reading should know I'm not that naive.

It's not just skin color. It's years and years of history. Black men have basically been thrown under the bumper of a fast moving bus for most of American history while white men have been the drivers. With a black man I share more than skin color. There is history, culture, experience, a world view in many cases. Black men are a diverse lot with much to offer any woman.

I have relatives who flat out say they never want to date black men. Wow! It's a sad commentary on how black men are viewed in society. Even if some perpetuate the stereotypes with the bling, etc., not all are this way and shouldn't be lumped as so.

Now for what many would call hypocricy on my part...why am I (a newly single mom) dating ONLY white men after being married to a white guy for 10 years? Good question...

I have found that black men have a lot of anger towards their white counterparts, ESPECIALLY if that white man has a black woman on his arm.

I was fortunate enough to have a date recently. Always a shock of happiness when that happens. But as I sat there nursing my Coke across from my date, I realized three black men entering the establishment. None spoke to me but I could feel their eyes drilling through the back of my head. Despite the fantastic conversation going on (I thought it was good, jury may still be out with the guy) I could feel the stares. I thought it was my imagination until I decided to look over my shoulder. There they were, all three, staring, no smiles...I turned back around.

About 10 minutes later, I hear them cancelling their food orders and leaving. Meanwhile in "blissfully ignorant white man date land," my new friend was clueless. I won't clue him in...why spoil his moment of sharing? Since he has dated black women before, I would think he would know but one can never tell.

The problem with diving into the interracial pool is the white men who say, "I've never dated a black woman before, but I'd like to try it..." That's like saying I have never had cupcakes before, but I'd like to try them. It puts a black woman on the level of an object and no one wants to be that. Here's tip to white men who want to date black women, don't say that when she asks if you have ever dated a black woman before. A better answer is a simple no. Or try this, no I haven't dated a black woman before. I think you are attractive and would like to date YOU for YOU!

It's raining men...Halleluah...not so quick

My marriage is ending and I find myself returning to the blissful meadow or more likely, mine field, of dating. The re-focusing of one's mind from a single person, purpose, goal and life to checking out the field of prospects is interesting to say the least.

I went to a religious conference on Friday. The event spoke about bringing Christian values in to the work place. Interesting concept, interesting speakers, interesting that I felt surrounded by men who I viewed as a meat market. Tall, short, fat, thin, bald, long hair, short hair, black, white, business suits, casual gear...all loving the Lord (and probably their wives too). Young spicy numbers, classy mature men, the 40-ish crowd looking confident and set with their worlds. The 30-somethings, still young enough to be dangerous but smart enough to know what they are doing. Late-teens with tons of stamina and energy, 20s with stamina and a bit of imagination. The variety is staggering but put them through a mental filter, test the waters and you realize the “game” remains the same.

There are the men who you barely look at with egos so huge that they think you are in love immediately. Guys who fall like a ton of bricks for you, only to treat you like you have HPV and various other “friends” when they find out you have a child...or they ask for money and you treat them like they have the plague if you are smart.

Rich men who think you only want their money, poor men who only want your money. Sex hounds who say, “Hello, when are we going to rent a motel room?” The motel is needed because he lives with his mom and she won't allow booty-calls in her house. Men who won't touch you until you are properly wed, but are so horny they most likely will mount any vibrating appliance in the house, a washer on the spin cycle is always good for a cheap thrill...find the warm spot.
Men who chat you up, then chat you down. Men who want you to make all the moves, then damn you for being aggressive. Men who make all the moves and damn you for not being receptive.

Then there's the “Anything but black...” syndrome that seems to have grown. Many men won't even give a black woman a try. This is all general, of course, I haven't been single long enough to experience them all but I know they are there...lurking and waiting to waste my time.
Looking is a daunting task, finding a “good one” is always nice. What is a good one...that varies. Even with emotional luggage, a person can open up enough to welcome new friends and relationships. Are there good men out there, of course.

Mr. romance who treats you like a lady...opens doors, holds chairs, carries your coat, lets you wear his if you are cold. He buys flowers, candy, gifts or just gives you a nice foot rub on a bad day. He listens to your personal BS and of course, you listen to his because he wants to share.
The regular old “blue-collar guy,” this guy isn't fancy, isn't really romantic, certainly isn't going to shower you with tons of high-priced gifts but hey, you know when this guy loves you. There is no question about it. You'll be his “old lady” and when he says that, he'll mean it.

Sir with the slow hand, filled with passion and knows how to show it. This would be the opposite of Mr. Speedy Gonzales who wants to take you immediately to a motel. He takes his time, shows affection and lets you figure out when/if more will happen. If you decide more will happen, he makes it worth your while.

There are more men, of course, but dating remains the same. Tell to much and you risk blowing it all. Tell to little and the same could happen. Rejection is a bitter pill to swallow but it won't kill you. Whether it's their loss or your shot down dream, it's best to remember if one passes you buy, another will be along. Just wait for him and be ready when he shows up.

Cube news...

As I sat in my cubicle today pretending to work while actually emailing a co-worker about a photo he sent, our HR director bounced by. I usually ignore her when she bounces but the sudden ca-clack sound made as she passed caused me to look up. She was, of course, gone by the time I looked but she left a calling card.

Our cubes are metal hand-me-downs from some company that thought industrial metal with fake rivits and purple cloth trim and black borders was good looking. In reality, the metal tends to be cold and industrial, the purple is a weak attempt at accents and the black is just, well, black. Anway...I'm surrounded by metal.

As I looked to the area that generated the sound, I saw something new...my last name. I immediately didn't like it. I suddenly feel like a dog in a kennel...My name is (fill in blank). I have been here for almost two years, paid poorly but I am getting a raise soon. I should appreciate the company's efforts to make this a good workplace but that doesn't stop me from job hunting.

I commend my new employers (the company was bought about a year ago). They have provided new computers, phone system, working environment and mo' money. However, growth in the job is stagnant. I'm writing the same types of things I wrote 5 years ago...no growth potential. Instead of a malignant cancerous tumor that at least grows, my job resembles the benighn variety...a living lump of flesh that just takes up space without purpose. At least I have some fun co-workers.



Today, someone asked if black people could sunburn. You funny white folk.

“That Kid...”

I've learned a few life lessons this week...either learned them or got a refresher course. Maybe I shouldn't call them life lessons...maybe they are just moments to remember and ponder about people and the world.

The week started typically with work on Monday...nothing special. Life's curve balls usually come at you when you aren't looking. Off the top of my head I would have to say the curve came Thursday in an employee meeting in the form of new rules to govern the staff. I knew they were coming so I was not surprised. What amazed me was the dichotomy in reactions...youthful naivety to mature rebellion. I am more on the mature side of the issue, however, the mature people already knew there is no fighting this dictate. It is to be managed, like any other new unpopular rule brought down upon us by the 'benevolent dictator,' a name embraced by the person in question and NOT given by me.

The youthful naivety ranged from, “these rules aren't so bad – it's better than the last place i worked,” to “now people who aren't working will have to work.” Maybe I am getting old but both attitudes show a level of youthful ignorance that amused me. The attitude that this is better than the last place I worked is short-sighted. If you worked in a cesspool, then almost anything is better. The rules making someone do their job, that's just ignorant. Nothing can make a person work, only themselves. As i predicted and warned, the people that were supposed to jump up and be there for the new set hours did not follow them. All the workers who do their work follow the new rules. Oh the folly of youth.

Now to the neurosis part. Complaining about the rules to a co-worker yielded a bizarre response that led me to realize “that kid” can sometimes grow into “that adult.” So who is “that kid?” You know...the kid who had no friends, was neurotic and when you tried to be friends with this person they had a panic attack and YOU ended up in trouble for “bothering that kid.”

I shared my frustrations with the new rules with a co-worker and somehow my opinions and complaining became an attack...at least to this person. How this person heard me calling names and making accusations in a few gripes about the boss, i have no idea...then i realized...OH, this person is “that kid,” now “that adult.”

I have to wonder what makes “that kid” and further wonder how “that adult” won't fix whatever it is that makes them so neurotic. They have to know it's not a desirable quality.

OLD...

When, exactly, did I become old? I don't feel any different than I did at 30 but at 40, people view you differently.

Suddenly, you just aren't that sexy. Is that true or a figment of younger people's imagination. I vote for the later and would like to throw a heavy dose of hypocrisy in there too.

The same youngsters who would look me in the eye and tell me I am too old for this or that, are the same people who would jump all over Demi Moore, Halle Berry or Angelina Jolie. Ok, Angelina is in her 30s but still, if she were 40+ youngsters wouldn't care. By 'youngsters,' I mean the 20-somethings who think they are the shit simply because of youth.

Young women who say the same, would not throw George Clooney or Brad Pitt out of their beds so what's the BS about 40 being old?

That is what it is, BS. According to Aging Research, many older people are in much better shape than the young ones...in ALL respects, including sex. We have all heard the saying, "Just because there is snow on the roof, doesn't mean there isn't a fire in the furnance." The most strange thing about this is, younger people may think older people know nothing about nothing.

Before I go off on a rant, I have to say I was never that young. I realized years ago that as a youth I was lucky to know as much as I did. I did then, and do now, have great respect for the wisdom of older people while at the same time I'm amazed at the stupidity of youth.

So, what brought on the rant...nothing in particular...a few comments/jokes about my age from a certain someone who can't deal with someone at 40 being cooler than all his little 20-something friends.

As a self-professed girl mega-geek, I am a pretty hot catch for any male geek. Problem is, many male geeks are brain dead when it comes to girls/women.

The virgin myth

I wish I could say adult virgins are a mystery to me. Like some people who attract wife beaters, drug addicts, toxic-waste people, I tend to primarily attract one type of men -- virgins. I don't know why this burden was dumped upon me but it was. I have dated no less than probably four adult virgins in my lifetime and even married one. By adult virgins, I don't mean 18. The virgins I dated were all into their 20s, some past mid-20, my husband was about 26.

The first question that comes to mind is, how/why would a man want to NOT have sex for so long. Personal experience tells me it's because of sexual hang-ups. I know people will say, "I'm saving myself for marriage," or "I just haven't found the right girl yet..." but that's all crap. The real reason grown men don't have sex is simple, they have sex issues and probably intimacy issues too. Someone told them it was nasty, bad and dirty and they believed it then and still believe it now. However, at 5 years old your body does not work like it does when you are 25.

How does a man at 25 deny his bodily urges...an urge that wakes up in the morning. Well, abstinance pledges are usually the reason and these tidy little contracts create the worst virgins I have ever met. People promise to save themselves for marriage, "THE ONE" who will be their spouse forever. Problem is, the virgin's genitals don't get that message that they should -only- get excited for the 'right' person. When the genitals turn on for the wrong person, what's a guy to do? Commit a different sin, masturbate...and even worse, become a tease.

Male adult virgins find women who are sexually experienced and turn on the charm to tease them. They enjoy seeing a woman get sexually excited, it validates their egos as men to be able to get a woman sexually excited but keeps them safe and sound from intimacy (physical and mental) because they never fulfill the promise of satisfaction. In fact, the woman gets a great big dose of frustration while the man feels superior having defeated the demon of sexual urge. In fact, the teasing is just a masturbatory aid of a different kind. He wants her but she isn't 'good enough,' whatever that means, to have intercourse with. However, he may do every other kinky bit of sex available but still claim to be a virgin because he hasn't had regular old intercourse.

I tell my virgin dating buddies (only deflowered my husband) one day you will grow up and realize all that slipping, sliding and slurping is sex too. You didn't have vaginal intercourse but you were having sex. It's just a lie to say "I am a virgin" when you have had your goodies played with by another person. Stop lying to yourselves and get laid.

Dating rules

As a transplant from California to Missouri I have the interesting position to compare cultural differences between places. While both places have their faults, I understand more and more why people her are so tense about things...dating for instance.

Most people have dating rules. If you aren't a pervert, you don't scope for dates at an elementary school. If you aren't a hillbilly, you certainly don't look for dates at a family reunion. Those rules, i think, are universal. I'm talking about silly rules (at least to me) that dictate people's lives. They live by them and refuse to let such things go.

I know someone who told me today that he won't date anyone outside of a 3 year range of his age. Color me confused. What if you meet someone 5 years older or younger who just lights up your life. Oops, can't date her, she's not within range.

Or another example, this person said she will not date short men...they must be 6-foot for her to even consider dating him. That comment drew an even bigger WTF from me than the other one. This same incredibly deep person felt I was advocating immoral behavior because i cheered Angelina Jolie's choice to be a single mom.

People I have met here do that without a hiccup...say something shallow then follow it with judgment about someone else. I don't get it and hope I never will.