The English Literature Addict

This is the usual blog for me, though there are so few blog posts so far what really is “usual?” Anyway, this story needs a little bit of background information. Okay, a lot of background information in order for the blog title to make sense.

When I was younger, and a little bit more naive than I am now, I made the mistake of creating a screen name with an indication of my feminine gender in it. (If any of you want to talk to me, I will email you my screen name, but do to the stuff I’m about to discuss I hesitate to put it up) I thought it would save any ambiguity in the faceless world that was the internet back then.

Well, the punishment for that clarity is the fact that I get the gambit of men trying to picking me up. They ranged from honest, lonely guys who don’t really mean any harm by it, that I will try and befriend to the guys who start out the conversation “a/s/l” and immediately progress to: “u got cam, want cam sex?” Block buttons are good for those.

There is also the odd group of men from the middle east, who, upon learning I am American, suddenly think I should come to their country and marry them. I’m not trying to concur with stereotypes, and I’m not saying this applies to all, but it has been a repeated trend in my internet experience, though I would be the first to say it is not a large percentage of their population. However, because my screen name contains “lady,” I somehow manage to attract those who are of that thought. And really want American citizenship or cam porn or something.

These rashes of strange but short conversations come and go in waves, and now, I am getting to the point of my long ramble. I was having one such conversation with a guy, that quickly progressed down the trail of “so… what u look like.” Normally, the response would be to Google the fattest, ugliest person (i switch back and forth between women and men) and send it to them, just to see how long they will continue with the conversation after, but because of the method of the conversation (email to cellphone, don’t know why, but as long as it wasn’t clogging up my texts, I was willing to try and make a friend) I wasn’t so sure how an picture would translate.

So, when he asked, and the typical revulsion filled the pit of my stomach, I typed back “my looks mean nothing.” The response I got back and this is a direct quote: “Your Probubly kinda cute but dont think so then.” I proceeded to explain that I did indeed have a boyfriend, and so my looks meant nothing to him.

All this time, a line from the Disney movie Aladdin was replaying itself over and over again in my head: “I am not a prize to be won.” Something about that line I heard when I was a little girl stuck with me, and bubbled up to the surface then. Many times, still, especially in the realm of the internet where the man is safe behind the shroud of anonymity, women are seen as prizes to be won. Things to be won based on their beauty and not on anything that lies below the skin.

Just makes me a little sad because I thought seriously that the internet would make it easier to connect to people based on ideas and personality, not on how cute you are and whether or not you are willing to post whorish pictures on Myspace.

Readers, any thoughts on how the internet leads people to interact, and how appeareance distracts from perhaps more important and meaningful ways to bond. Or am I just out on a limb and should just learn to catch up to the times, and let go of these grandiose ideas?

Take care,
The English Literature Addict