Keeping Up with the Jonzee still at the right spot.

Monday, January 29, 2007

The E-Dating Saga--Part 1

In my first week of e-dating, it has taken me very little time to notice that the game is the same--minus the physical ability to be in the person's space. I have recieved a million and one flirts and emails at, but when it comes to actually getting a substantive response to my follow up...

*tumble weeds roll by*

Today, a brother who I have been chatting with quite a few times via email, pulled the "hook a brother up" card, followed by the *maybe I can come by your crib and we can hang out" card. WTF?

This other brother, didn't even bother to read my response to his email which asked him about his writing career, gave him my IM, and said something about my attempts to write as well. His response--well that shit just didn't make sense logically or grammatically for that manner. I think somebody else must have written his profile.

And then there is my internet stalker.

Not much different then meeting some cat at the club. But at least you can tell how tall his ass really is? And you can look in his eyes and gander whether he is deranged.

Next report--an actual date.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

The E-fficiency of E-Dating

It is not a surprise in this day and age of the Crackberry and various and a sundry other gadgets that make communication both significantly easier and in some ways significantly less personal that the advent of e-dating and finding the love of your life via internet is growing. What has been a widely popular means of dating amongst the majority is gaining significant steam amongst the those in the digital divide--otherwise known as black folks. Why just in the last issue of Essence was an article about how to get a date and the great things one can find on various e-dating sites geared for black folk.

I personally have always been leary of the whole thing. Though I did have an interesting, albeit brief with a Puerto Rican/Pakistani brother the one time I tried it, there is something about the whole thing that seems unnatural, perhaps even a bit desperate. I prefer the whole personal interaction thing. But as I mentioned, life is all about efficiency, and these days, the business of life can keep you from focusing on trying to pick up some cat at the mall, at the club, or at church on Sunday morning.

So, I am trying it. Even though my girl just went out on an e-harmony date with a brother who turned out to be some real Beautiful mind type of brother who has no friends and a big chip on his shoulder--I have gone ahead and put up a profile.

I'll keep you posted. And don't worry, I have pocket knife and a mean right hook for anyone who tries to break fool on me.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Talk aint so cheap

If you have been following the travails of my life through this blog, you may have already noticed that I am somewhat of a worrier--and have a flair for the unneccessarily dramatic at times. All of which is centered around my complete lack of patience. When we last visited my life, we talked about the teacher. Though much of what was discussed is the same--he's leery of long distance relationships and he's displayed some insecurities about me in the context of distance, it's amazing what happens when you go head first into asking the "what's up with you?" question.

Now we all know there are two big ways the "what's up with you?" question can turn out when it comes to romance. A bigger falling out--possibly a breakup; or a makeup and maybe even makeout session. Well, the teacher and I aren't that far along for either scenario, so its more like-1) we are friends 2) lets just see where this goes. I decided to stop being a punk and face it head on. And since I believe there is some truth to the whole astrology thing (Im a Leo. He's a Cancer) I figured I would take the star chart's advice (with some salt sprinkled in.) and go straight at him, since Cancer's like to go at things sideways.

To sum up the conversation, I make him nervous. Just like he does me. He has a hard time reading me, because I tend to hang in the background when he invites me places--rather than be up in the front. And sometimes, I don't bother to say what's on my mind. He's never--since college--hung out with a chick who will just go off and make her own fun if he gets involved in a conversation I am no longer interested in. He hinted that he got a little jealous of my relatively long conversation with the dude at Bujhetto's. I reminded him that just as he is involved in the restaurant business--and people want to talk to him all the time, I too was in the business and have dated some managers and owners and know the deal. I can stand there. Or I can find a conversation that is interesting. He seems to understand that does'nt mean I'm not feeling him.

And as far as the end of the month is concerned? Yes--he wants to see me. And he wishes I would stop asking that everytime I come home.

Sunday, January 14, 2007


I am pretty sure I understand now. At first I thought I was doing something like being way too cool. I thought I was screwing up--and I probably done a little screwing up by aiding and and abeting the foolishness of this thing. I think it simply has boiled down to mixed signals on both of our parts. But I started it.

You see. I am an absolute and total control freak when it comes to folks playing with my emotions. It took me a long time to admit that I purposely chose dudes who I could dominate. I appeared to be so giving (and I was but not as much as I can) but at the end of the day it was more about knowing that I was running them--and in alot of instances someone to be pissed at or cuddle with. I have totally opened my heart one time--and it was ridiculous. We were the ambiguously in love couple for a real long time. Lots of drama. Lots of good times. But alas. He is with someone else--like he probably should be (Her self esteem is so low--she'll never leave.) And as much as he has matured is as much as he has stayed the same. When I let that go...along came the teacher. And lawd knows I like him more than I would like to.

But what he is saying, verbally and non-verbally I don't often get. What I am saying is I don't like to be vulnerable and have the shield erect. So what does that equal? That equals two folks who might be speaking the same language in a quite different dialect.

The brother has made me ridiculously nervous. I'm talking "oh my goodness! Here he comes! Is my hair/outfit/smile good?" I have actually walked in a room, seen him, and ignored him out of sheer nervous and need to not let him think I am sweating him. When I am home, we see each other everyday. I call. He invites me out. We hang at his bar. We hang at other bars. We feel strangly familiar with one another. And every meeting starts off with some awkwardness. And both of us do a lot of staring/not staring at each other across the room. What in the hell is that.

Case in point. Friday of New Years Eve weekend, I call him to hang out and he informs me that one of his girls is having a b-day party and he was inviting me to go if I was interested. So we roll up o Bujhettos (yes, it does sound like you think it does). We stand around in silence making somewhat awkard conversation. I'm being funny--at least I think I am and I feel like we are making small talk at some event in which we are forced to speak to one another. Then, all the sudden, he leans down whispers in my ear "I think it is time for us to hit the dance floor and see what you got." And off we go. We dance together like we been dancing for ever. We joke about the wack ass DJ and th weak reggae rotation that is always the same couple of songs in C-town. We keep it for about 6 songs and the wackness gets unbearable. We step off. He goes off to the bathroom and the bar to get me a beverage. When he comes back some dude has started chatting me up about his possible job in NYC--he has no interest in me but the convo is cool. I see him look at me. I look back...

And I keep talking to dude. The teacher goes to get the b-day girl and shakes leg. So I keep talking. Then, the ubiqutous Cleveland slow jam set comes on. I dont even notice, until I look up and he is out on the floor with a fine lady. I see him looking my way as he twirls chica around on the floor (did I mention he can dance his tail off) I keep talking. By the second song--I'm thinking I should cut in. But thats an iffy situation with sistahs in C-town so...I wait.

Songs end. He disappears to the bar. Comes back with another drink for me. Hands it to me. And walks off. At this point--I'm just a dumb ass right? He walks around the entire place to come to my other side, where this dude is not standing, and tell me that he is ready to go but doesn't want to cramp my style. And I say, " you are not cramping anything I came with you." Probably the smartest thing I said all night. Let the over-analysis begin.

After we get back around our way, we say goodnight, hugs and kisses. I joke with him about why he didn't ask me to slow dance and ask should I call you when I come back at the end of the month...because if one thing is clear the distance between NYC and CLE is an issue.

I did not hear is response as he walked to his car. My radio was too loud.