~ CurvyKathy31: Confessions of a Chat-aholic ~

by

Karyn Lyndon

Two

Sparks Through the Keys

My date with Greg had been a major turning point. I’d thought about it all weekend (and off and on for the last year) and I finally made the decision. I even wrote it down in my online journal, which seemed to make it more of a commitment. Monday would be the day.

As I sped down the Dallas North Tollway from work, I envisioned standing in front of my imaginary support group, admitting what my friends and family had been complaining about for quite a while.

Hello. My name is Kathy. And I'm a chat-aholic.

Normally, I couldn't wait to get home from work. I would feed my white Persian cat, Blanca, eat a Lean Cuisine, pour the rest of my Diet Coke into my glass and hurry to the corner of my living room designated as my office. I would be anxious to log on to my computer, open my Email and peruse my buddy list.

But tonight was different. After the Greg fiasco I knew deep down in my pulverized self esteem it was time to cancel my Internet access. The inability to escape to the wide world via that famous web gave me symptoms that would intimidate even the most stringent twelve-step program. My hands shook as I contemplated swearing off mouse-rides on the Information Date-way. My mouth got cottony and I felt jittery, as I imagined deleting my CurvyKathy screen name. It was like killing off a part of me.

But I could beat this addiction. I knew I could. I just needed to find the proper motivation, and Greg had provided me with boatloads. I couldn’t blame it completely on him, though. Lately, my ego had taken a series of beatings by potential online boyfriends acting less than enthusiastic when they met the real me. Intermixed with them were some scary-looking underachievers who gave loser a bad name. So, I figured with Greg as the final straw, now was an excellent time to say adios to my buddies and unsubscribe from AOL.

So I did my usual feed/eat/pour routine and headed to my computer. I logged on as me, a 31-year-old single female with shoulder-length blond hair, green eyes and very curvy figure—my way of saying I had fifty extra pounds without having to type the offending words. In personals lingo it was referred to as BBW (big, beautiful woman), but I didn’t think that fit my description. I was overweight, but at my height I didn’t consider myself big. Fat, yes, but not big.

I checked Email and found the usual mortgage refinancing and Viagra spam. Then I entered my favorite Dallas singles chat room where several of the regulars were already in attendance.

CurvyKathy31: Hi, gang.

DonnaWanna: Hey, Kathy.

MikeLikesBikes: What's up, Curvy?

CurvyKathy31: I'm giving up chatting for Lent.

2Cute4Words: Lent's already over, isn't it?

CurvyKathy31: I’m not really Catholic, either.

SmartBart2002: lol. How can you leave all this scintillating chatter?

CurvyKathy31: I spend too much time on here. I need to get out. Take a class. Meet real people.

MikeLikesBikes: What are we? Cyborgs?

CurvyKathy31: You know what I mean. I feel like I'm hitching a ride on a highway going nowhere.

Dannyboy: My luck. It's my first night and you're leaving.

CurvyKathy31: A web rookie—my favorite kind of buddy.

Dannyboy: Why is that?

CurvyKathy31: Maybe it's my need to feel superior. :)

Dannyboy: I don't have a clue what I'm doing. I could really use some help.

CurvyKathy31: I'd love to be your Web Master, but I'm deleting my screen name tonight.

Dannyboy: That's too bad. It’s an interesting name.

CurvyKathy31: Thanks. I really hate to see it go, but I've already made a commitment in my journal.

Dannyboy: I write in a journal, too, ever since my parent's divorce. I know it sounds gay.

CurvyKathy31: Not at all—it’s very sensitive for a guy to express himself.

Dannyboy: Jotting down my dull life has at least made me a better writer. A skill I can tell I need on here.

CurvyKathy31: Mine is filled with failed resolutions for self-improvement and sappy poetry that rhymes too much.

Dannyboy: I’d like to read one of your poems sometime. I'm a sucker for sap.

MikeLikesBikes: Hey, why don't y'all get a private room or Instant Message. I'm sensing some chemistry between you two but the rest of us are about to hurl.

It always amazed me how I could go night after night, chat room after chat room, answering a bottomless drivel of personal questions from an endless array of faceless people. Then all of a sudden, there would be an undeniable spark that said this guy was different. It was an electrically charged connection I could feel right through the keyboard; almost a miracle considering I was dealing with a form of communication that involved only one dimension.

I’d felt it before; developed some online friendships that ended up in three-dimensional dates like Greg. A couple of times they had flourished into semi-lasting relationships. But not one of them had asked to read my poetry. I added Dan’s name to my buddy list, then double-clicked on it creating an IM screen.