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Age is Just a Number
(Serial Memoir)

Issue 2

Somebody Likes Me!

6:00 a.m., Saturday, March, 2003

Considering the fact that I love to sleep and need to set up my bookstand in 2 hours, pulling an all-nighter probably wasn’t one of my brighter ideas, but oh so gratifying.  When I felt saturated enough to tear myself away, I decided (like there was really a decision to be made) to setup a profile of my own so that some of those godly men out there could find me.

Unsure exactly what to put on my profile, I checked out some pages by other female members.  Wow!  There were some beautiful women on there!  I’m wondering why?  Well, maybe like me, there are slim pickings in their immediate surroundings, or maybe they’re just plain picky?  Anyhow, I’m still holding my own…even grading myself harshly, on my worst day and in the spirit of modesty, I’d give myself a seven.  

I then I looked for some Christian women pages.  How inspiring!  Scripture, poetry, testimonies, thought provoking questions and answers, a list of expectations and affirmations of self respect …screechhhhhhhhhhhhh…way at the bottom of the page…there it is…in all it’s hoochified glory, a picture with tatas and/or hind parts hanging out all over the place.

My fingers itched to send them a note about misrepresenting the body of Christ.  Something to the effect that they were sending conflicting and embarrassing messages to the world at large and men in general.  As the youngest of eight, my level of boldness has its limits, plus I handle being cussed out very poorly.  So, minding my business, I began to fill out my profile.

The profile called for an alias (seemed kind of silly to me but I did it anyhow).  In the style of the Old Testament when parents chose names for their children based on their character, I chose the name PrincessDian (the e couldn’t fit.  I wasn’t so much aiming for Caucasian, anorexic and blonde…my emphasis was on the royalty, giving nature, yet lonely aspect).  I’d hated my name all my life because it’s pronounced Dee-Anne but spelled Diane.  Uncomfortable in an assertive role and perhaps tired of correcting everyone I mostly let it slide, while stewing inside.  Right around the time that I discovered I had some serious self-hate going on and affirmed to begin loving me, I discovered that my name meant Divine.  What a breakthrough!  I realized that my hate and denial of the name Diane paralleled my hate and denial of who I really am, as a woman first and as a child of God.

Anyhow, I put in my request for someone tall and muscular this time around in the age range of 35-39.  No more short men or their mentality for me.  I want someone who can give me a piggyback ride if I ask.  I also stipulated a Christian.  Hopefully, if I mention the faith of Job, I’ll be less likely to receive a response about the fate of my job.  Educated?  Definitely.  I didn’t spend summers studying the dictionary as a teenager to let words like scintillating and proselytizing go to waste.  But since I’m not a snob, he doesn’t have to have a formal degree, just a certain level of intelligence.  What I particularly like about this medium is that I don’t have to hurt someone’s feelings face to face.  I can look at their specs (that’s computer talk for qualities) and then politely respond with a yay, nay or the male kiss of death “let’s be friends”. 

I completed my page, added the makeup free headshot from my Driver’s License then rounded up a good book and sat there reading (if you could call, holding a book in front of you with your eyes darting back and forth like a Ping-Pong ball from book to computer screen reading).  After sitting there expectantly for a bit, loath to answer the call of nature, I nevertheless did so.  Upon my return, there was an email message telling me I’d received a note from tenrag at BP!  Results!  So quickly!

I did a praise dance.  “Somebody likes me!  Somebody likes me!”  Mind you, it’s about 3:00 a.m. and the entire household is asleep and there I was like a slaphappy fool, celebrating like I’d won the lottery.  Heck, you know I’ve been studying up a storm, fasting and taking care of my temple (that’s Christian talk for body) and all that good stuff.  Started mending family fences, volunteering for babysitting duty.  Yes, me, drop it when it wets, me…babysitting.  Now I’ve gotten to the point that if I have to see another movie with another family member and/or anyone under 17…there’ll be consequences and repercussions…or is that repercussions and consequences?  Oh who cares…you get my drift.

Time to get a little shut-eye before I face the cold and customers.

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 Synopsis | Issue 1 | Issue 2  | Issue 3 | Issue 4 | Issue 5 | Issue 6 | Issue 7  | Issue 8 | Issue 9 | Issue 10 | Issue 11 | Issue 12 | Issue 13 | Issue 14 | Issue 15