Men *eye roll*


Entry 04/21/2012 10:58:08 AM – Mentat 642

The surprising thing about young fools is how many survive to become old fools.” – Doug Larson

Spring has finally sprung and I’m pretty damned happy about it. Sure the nights are still more than a bit chilly, but it’s not something that can’t be remedied by either closing the window for a little bit, or in my case tossing another throw on the bed — particularly given that I’m once again making the bed for spring and summer and not autumn and winter. Of course now that I’m middle aged, I can see one of the hereditary problems on my mother’s side of the family has finally come to full fruition… Eczema… Most of the men on my mother’s side of the family get eczema on their legs during the winter months and it seems that I didn’t escape that fate. It’ll clear up by about the time my birthday blows in (sooner if the weather continues to be as comfortable as it currently is). It flares up all because of dry heat in the house along with cold and gray weather. And here I was hoping that I would take after my biological father’s side of the family when it came to not having to deal with it. Oh well… Not this life anyway.

Then the other night I had a wonderful scare that reminds me of a certain prediction a gastroenterologist gave me a couple of years ago. Now I’ve been doing pretty well with my diet. I have avoided the massive amounts of heavy carbs and fatty foods my aunt used to cook for me and my uncle for years (he’s a 50s meat & potatoes sort of man) that had caused my gallbladder to flare up 3 years ago and had me rushing to the emergency room because I passed a gallstone. About a month later, I’m sitting in a Gastroenterologist’s office with him doing a routine checkup/follow-up consultation to ensure everything was all right. He commented that he was surprised I didn’t get admitted immediately and surgery performed given results. He also indicated there was indeed a problem and that my gallbladder should be removed at some time. Said to me during the checkup that it was probable that I would have to have my gallbladder removed in about 5 years (if I have another flare-up like the one I had the month before.

Fast forward 3 years and because it’s warm, I’m indulging in one of my passions of the summer: ice cream. I didn’t have a problem with the small bowl that I had in the afternoon after I came back from my walk. Then I had half a bowl again after dinner that night and things seemed to have been going well. I went to bed early because my day started early and at about 11:30 that night, I got hit with almost the same amount of pain I did the last time I had an attack. While it wasn’t enough for rush to the ER to handle, it was enough to keep me up for about 4 more hours while I waited to see whether the pain would get worse or subside. It did after a couple of Gas-X tablets and a couple of dry toast. So for the last couple of days, I’ve avoided dairy products (ugh!), had couple of meals involving a modest bowl of rice and dry toast. For my caffeine, it’s been mild green tea (ugh!), dry cereal without milk (not too bad given it’s Sugar Smacks, but still it would be better with milk)… I was finally able to do have my morning coffee this morning without any gastric scares. Still though, I’m going to need to watch it for a while and exercise more to see if this is going to become more common, or just a flare-up because of my being sedentary through the winter months. Needless to say, this is not something I’m looking forward to, given that once again, gallbladder removal is common on my mother’s side of the family — particularly with the first born kids.

Pity too… I still have the ice cream in the freezer. It looks like it’s going to be sitting in there for a while to come. And here I was just getting to enjoy the Maple Walnut goodness too. Heh, at least it wasn’t anything chocolate and cherry — then it would really be torture.

Heh, other than the scare from the other day, it’s a relatively quiet Saturday morning where I’m waiting patiently for the impending rain that’s supposed to happen (given the satellite pictures I was looking at earlier). It seems that in competition to the car wash, the fire department on the other side of the house has some sort of renovation going on with the roof of their building. The first day the construction company was there, it sounded like they had some massive vacuum running from about 9 in the morning until about 6 in the afternoon. Today it sounds like they’re running rocks and gravel through some sort of pipe which started just a shade earlier than I liked: 8 in the morning. Since then it’s been pretty intermittent, but it’s enough for me want to keep the door shut to the kitchen for extended periods of time so that it’s not blasting through one side to get to the other… Instead it’s more listening to bounce off the concrete of the pawn shop next door. And unfortunately I can’t drown out the noise by putting on a pair of earbuds because the pair that I had finally died. It’s the same old problem involving the way the wiring runs from a center post and the right being able to wrap around the neck (one that I prefer given I don’t like it hanging down the front while I’m riding), where the wire got pulled enough that the right earbud no longer has any sound.

I could fix it, but given they were a really cheap set, I don’t think it’s worth it. So I’m going to use the gift certificate money that I got from the surveys that I’ve been doing over the years, I’ll just use that to purchase a new set. It was originally for a new backpack, but given this one’s still lasting better than I thought it would over the years, it’s a good diversion of the funds for the moment. Heh, particularly given the amount of noise pollution that comes from across the street, not to mention the occasional bouts of insomnia that hit me in the middle of the night.

As for me, I had a rather interesting realization while I was struggling through an issue I was thinking about rehashing in my journal about Tom (aka Mr. I-Feel-Nothing-For). The realization involved something both annoying and disheartening when dealing with men my age. Sure, they demonstrate a veneer of respect, honesty and perhaps even a little bit of politeness… but that veneer doesn’t seem to last all that long and once you scratch under the surface you find some pretty ugly things involving selfishness, emotional damage (to the point of complete and utter dysfunction), and a definitive disrespectful attitude.

Take this for example from Tom… He had changed out his profile because his previous profile was attracting way too much unwanted attention for sexual liaisons that he wasn’t actually wanting and asked me what I thought of the “improvements”. But what really took the cake wasn’t the frivolous note that he had written, it was the post script that cause me to react (and sort of go on the offensive). He had inquired on how much closer we were to a phone conversation. Let me recap this as quickly as possible without going completely off on a tangent.

Keep in mind, we had chatted casually for about 3 weeks, and in those 3 weeks.

1. The notes that we shared were frivolously uninformative, to the point of being bland.  (I blame the character limits below).
i. He made a couple of references that I didn’t get, looked it up and was rewarded for getting them right.
ii. I do the same and instead of him looking it up, get from him saying consistently, “I don’t get the reference”, expecting me to explain the references to him.

2. We had chatted in real time twice.
i. The first time was interrupted because he had an important phone call.  This is also the chat that he establishes that he respects my wishes to chat online first.
ii. The second time he was an emotional wreck and couldn’t track/parse half of what I was saying, even after I adjusted my dialog for him to understand.
iii. The third time we were supposed to chat, he stood me up and didn’t write a note telling me he wouldn’t make it until over 2 hours after the fact telling me he had more drama with family and had to leave quickly.

3. I make several attempts at suggesting to move the conversation out of the chat environment because there is a less than 2,000 character limit to notes.  There is positively no acknowledgement to this suggestion and certainly no e-mails from him in the process.     And believe me…  1,500 characters isn’t enough to express anything as a writer — if it were the case, this journal entry would be done halfway through my gastric-panic.

4. After he had stood me up, he had requested whether I chatted on Yahoo Messenger of which I post my UserID from Yahoo and tell him he can note me whenever.  (After all, I have 3 yahoo accounts, 3 MSN accounts, 1 for ICQ, 1 for Google Talk, 1 for AIM, and even an account on the old Jabber network.  Thanks to Pidgin can run them all simultaneously).   Again, zip..  Nada…  Nothing when it came to acknowledgement of this note and certainly no chatting on Yahoo since I responded to his note.

And then he has the audacity to ask me if we’re closer to chatting on the phone!? This is respecting my wishes?! Seems extremely selfish to me given that he knows nothing about me, and the things I learned from his frivolousness is that he likes Post-Victorian books and that he doesn’t deal well with family drama as if leaves him emotionally drained and incapable of parsing things from other people (not coincidentally he seemed to always write me after this drama).

*takes a deep breath* Seriously, with this and the others that I’ve dated since I’ve come back to the Tundras of New England — there does in fact seem to be a trend of men in their 40s here that I’m having a difficult time dealing with (let alone accept in any degree). A trend that involves selfishness, frothing ego-mania, disrespect, and an insipid want to compare successes based on either material security or a quality much like a cookie-cutter, bland and even emotionless approach to living life (e.g., laid back, down to earth, hanging with friends, chilling at home… the list goes on). Oh and the damage… Christ on a drunken rampage, the damage I’ve seen in people around my age. From the laundry lists I’ve gotten from men about the hurts and damage that happened on the first date to emotional distance and using sex as a handshake to establish a relationship… it’s a minefield of drama and hot mess from people that are supposed to be “laid back” and “chilling with friends”.

For the longest time I thought it was just my experience, but after following another WordPress user’s blog called Sex and the Pity, I’ve come to learn that it’s not just gay men that are this way — it’s both straight and gay men. And don’t get me wrong, I know that I’m going to have to go through a whole lot of damage and rejecting/rejection in order to find someone that’s worth it, but seriously where am I going to have to go to find someone at least modestly worth it?

At the same time it certainly puts into perspective the differences in men that I’ve dated that were younger and those that were closer to my age and it makes me wonder — just where precisely is the dividing line that happens between the ages that can cause someone young, hopeful, sharing and caring into selfish pigs out for sex and whatever agenda they have for a date, a man and a relationship? Whether it is truly a transformation, or whether it’s just a string of luck that has caused me to go from finding the kind that I find attractive to finding the kind that put my knickers into such a bunch. One of those questions I’ll be sure to continue to ponder in the weeks to come. And given the last one, might have me (seriously) reconsider one of the requirements that I’ve been trying to stick to since I’ve decided it was high time to try all over again.

That and I still have my own problems that I need to work through. Though I’ll take a look at them tomorrow. Along with another problem that I’m having with someone.

And on that note, I think I’m going to wander off for a bit. Have a nap or something and then perhaps watch a little of my queue that has suddenly become unruly and long. Until the next time.

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