Venom

Black Widow Spider

I decided to create my blog on WordPress because I thought there might be less negativity than other forms of social media. For the most part it has been a perfect way to express myself in words and pictures. Twice in two weeks, however, I have received comments that were both negative and unpleasant. The first time I decided to call out the racist, Racists come in every color, but the second comment I deleted. Despite my initial common sense reaction, deep down I felt hurt, low and discouraged.

Many times I have sympathized with fellow bloggers, truly hurt, when someone has made a nasty comment. Why do people do this? It is a free press but kindness and etiquette should still come first even if you vociferously disagree with another post. Occasionally I sigh when a new follower has very different political view or set of morals but I can still appreciate them.

This particular comment was in response referred to my post Courtship by an Angel which was very quickly followed by My True Valentine – a testament of my love for my husband. You can read the post about Angel but here is a quick summary: On my recent trip to Mexico I hired a local driver, about 37, married with children. At the end of our time together, he started complimenting me and indicated that he might like to cheat with me. NOTHING HAPPENED nor did I do anything to encourage him. I was utterly complimented by a much younger man desiring me.

The comment was from a regular follower (no longer I assume) and I suppose that’s why it is so upsetting.

“This is so sad and the ‘delighted giggles’ at a man willing to cheat (on his wife and children) is part of the problem and only encourages men to overstep the mark. I pray all women gain a high sense of self- esteem and not rely on compliments by anyone else to boost them. Yes, it is nice to be healthfully complimented but seriously, ladies, wise up to the deviance”

My self-esteem is low; mental illness gives me a strange form of body dysmorphia and a general insecurity about anyone liking me. As for flirting or, more accurately, being engaging – I do it with everyone and every species. Babies, old ladies, cats, dogs – they are all prey to me charming them into submission. If only it was truly that easy to have self-esteem and not rely on compliments… I suspect I hit a nerve and I truly sympathize with anyone who has been profoundly hurt with infidelity. It is not deviant behavior, though, just human.

My personal experience is that there are much worse things that can happen to a relationship. My father mentally abused my mother and abandoned both of us. As humans we find it hard to be with just one partner or the divorce rate would be lower. None of those statements, or my flirting, indicate that I endorse cheating in relationships or life. Forgiveness is a wonderful quality and I wish I were better at it. I feel that some of my followers read my blog about churches but neglect to see older posts that talk very openly about sexuality. For any new followers – I am a left wing liberal who loathes our President, guns and a stupid wall. Ironically, I can no longer have physical sexual intercourse because of a rare medical condition (which I will talk openly about in a future blog). It struck me that some of my sadness and longing for a ‘normal’ sexual life might be emanating from me like a beacon.

Let’s lighten this blog up! I was chatted up by a handsome young man in a foreign country with a different culture. For all I know my open personality and solo traveling was a signal that I might be available. The one wise thing I did was not to make him feel bad when I was alone with a strange man in the back of beyond. But as for charming…it continues. I have two older admirers in the produce department of my local supermarket. One is Hispanic and he likes that I thank him in Spanish. The other is Southern and loves my accent. Last week they were subtly fighting for my attention. Southern Gentleman, with some teeth missing, won the battle and we started chatting. I laughingly said, “I can’t be the only lady with a foreign accent in here”. He deftly responded, “But you are unique…” I walked off with a spring in my step and as far as I know neither of them intend to leave their wives for me. It would be a waste of time because my preference is a full set of teeth and a tad younger. 🐆

Advertisements

Viking Finger, DNA and a ‘meh’ compliment

Now, this is my kind of Viking! Grrrrr…

I hope the title of this post intrigues you to read to the end.  The story is all over the place but linked by DNA.  Teddy, my husband, and I have always been competitive about our various ailments/oddities.  That is why we are soul-mates…  Recently, Ted had been complaining about a little growth on his pinkie finger.  Long story short, the Italian American surgeon operated and came out to tell me what the prognosis was after the surgery.  Unexpectedly, he told me it was a benign tumor and he had never seen anything like it.  It seemed to be wrapped around the tendon.  Then he told me that he had his DNA test and discovered (to his obvious Braveheart excitement) that he had a significant percentage of Scottish DNA.  This was a red letter day for him – an unusual surgery on his Scottish compatriot.  I had to gently let him know that the Scottish wife was really an Irish Hispanic mix.  Hilariously, to me, he could not have looked more Italian but perhaps in his heart he was wearing blue Woad and tartan.

The growth went to pathology and a week later Teddy met with the Italian/Scots surgeon who excitedly told him that it was Dupruyen’s Contracture, a thickening of tendons in the hand that most commonly occurs in men around age 60 from Northern Europe.  In Teddy’s case the thickening was on the upside of the finger when it is usually the other way around.  When he came home we Googled it to find out that it is sometimes called Viking Finger.  Can you imagine the fun I had with vulgar comments about my Viking’s Finger and where he could put it??  I have to admit that this month he has beat my giant cyst, Pumpkin, and the atrophied hoo-ha.

This led on to thinking what our DNA tests have done to us.  Despite being 60% Irish, I cling defensively to my Conquistador heritage with a dash of Native American.  I am deeply unhappy that Teddy has 4% more Iberian DNA than me.  He is unhappy that he has no Native American ancestry despite having no American relatives.  On many an occasion, a flirtatious Hispanic man has been so disappointed that my maiden name was Ortega. “But you look Scandinavian or Irish!” Our family was convinced that we were secretly Jewish but my DNA indicates otherwise…

So, I am at the airport this weekend and yet another Arabic man flirts with me (or is the other way around)?  I would have guessed that he was a little older than me.  First, he tells me I am beautiful.  That elicited a smile and thank you.  Then he asked me what age I was.  I was surprised at the query but answered honestly that I will be 57 in a month.  He looked me over and said, “I would have taken you for 51, maybe 52.” WTF!!!!  Surely he could have told a little white lie and suggested 45?  I will take any compliment but that was a bit ‘meh’.  Then he asked me where I was from and I told him the usual spiel. You could see the disappointment on his face when I told him I had North African and Middle Eastern ancestry. “But you look Scandinavian”.  I sighed and agreed that I had 1% Scandinavian ancestry.  Now he was happy that he had flirted with one of ABBA’s kin.

I am beginning to come to terms that I am as Irish as a Mullingar heifer no matter how varied my DNA is. I sound Celtic, I look Irish and in America that is way more fascinating than all that Conquistador stuff.  Isn’t it funny how life changes?  At one time being Irish in America was as welcome as a Mexican immigrant.  Well, I have both Irish and Mexican immigrant ancestors so to all the haters out there; I am raising one Viking Finger!