10:56 a.m. - 2006-03-27
I went over to my Bible Belt Chistian friends' house yesterday for a birthday party (not mine). Its so weird being around them now. Everything is about church, and Jesus and God and prayer. We can't even have a conversation about the past, as if it doesn't exist. I would bring up places we had gone, or things that we did - not even bad things - and, nothing. Absolutely nothing. If its not about their current church, its nothing.
And even they are trying to rope me in using the enticement that there are a lot of mixed race couples that go there.
Something happens when you date a black man. At least if you're an Irish/Russian like me. All of a sudden, you are one of THEM. The white girls who date black boys. Some people look at you like you've grown three heads, and others objectify you and put you on a pedestal.
Its fucking annoying. Yes, I'm dating Max. No, he's not my boyfriend or fiance. Neither my life nor my person have changed significantly since I started dating him. I am not in a interracial relationship. I am simply dating Max. I don't need to be categorized. I don't need new special friends. I haven't bought a membership in a special club.
Even the girl that my farty friend "fixed me up with" has been hanging around my office, saying that we need to have dinner, and that when Max is here, he's needs to come meet her boyfriend because black guys like to hang together.
What she doesn't understand is that Max lives in a multi-culteral world. His friends come from all corners. He doesn't understand or care about the American culture specific to his race. He's just himself, full of patriotic pride for his country, and its affiliation with Britain. When and if he comes to visit me, he'll want to meet my family, and my closest friends. And he'll be spending a lot of time one on one with me because our time together is precious. Not with some lady who has a black boyfriend, wouldn't it be neat?
I'm gonna kick some media driven, cultural ass over this one. Its about fucking time we stop putting people and relationships into categories, driving cultures farther apart, when I've spent a lifetime doing my part in glueing them together by the ass if necessary. In Zen-land, we are all individuals who should relish in that. Leave the clique mentality and the following to the sheep.
Max is Max. I can't compare him to anyone. He is a unique spirit who cannot be categorized. He deserves the respect that he's earned for his individuality and so do I. And I'll kick anyone in the ass who says anything different.
(Ok. Maybe I can put him in the category of "Ball" when he's a pain in my ass. But, that a privelege that I've earned.)