You Know You’re an Influence When…

Someone chats me up on one of the local dating boards and goes off on a random rant about how so many people seem to come visit his profile but no one ever seems to hit him up. He blames it on queerfolk wanting Superman that lives a block away…

I responded with:

One of the biggest problems with profiles comes from the way people try to make their profiles all – for lack of a better word – hetero norm. Add to the fact that many of us here (and yes I admit I’m one of them) comes from the experience of personal ads in local rags and our inherent ability to try to read between the lines. Things end up getting translated from one thing to another and whatever charm one might have aimed for is translated to something completely different. Why do you think I wrote my profile the way I did? For people to translate the scary to terrifying and the good to bland. It would take someone of exception character to realize the truth of the paradox.

I then went on to say:

I can tell you the fact I didn’t respond was because your six things you can’t live without didn’t include coffee. With coffee not being on the top six (or some explanation as I had) I wasn’t sure whether you’d fully appreciate one of the few vices I live by. I also try to avoid people that live next door; instead looking farther away from the New England area. You see, I am a living example of, “writers – when they’re alone, they’re prophetic; when they’re with people, they’re pathetic. They’re just too in their heads. ” I am not in a rush to meet and have coffee. I like learning about people from their writing instead of face to face as I can learn more by what they write about than what they project.

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The thing is that no sooner than he read my response, he updated his profile to include the hows and the whys. He even went so far as to accentuate the one thing I didn’t bring up: his height (I might get to that in a minute). He re-wrote it to being a little less (what I call) hetero-norm. He added elements that people don’t often talk about: spirituality… I mean sure I’ve seen plenty of people professing one form of Christianity or another, but not so much Buddhism or other spiritual paths. Of course the price for this wisdom and this change of approach with his profile is he stopped talking to me and then went to blocking me.

While I expected most of his response to the advice I had given him (stopping the conversation and perhaps even the block), it got me to thinking about the conversation I had with @JayTheManDater over on his blog on WordPress. While I found myself relieved that the conversation didn’t lead to embarrassing and potentially shallow admissions on my part (I am looking for someone taller than me, not shorter), at the same time I find myself modestly disappointed not even a “thank you” was given for what I said… After all this man was 12 years older than I was and was definitely raised to know what manners were…. It did also give me a giggle on how he had admitted that part of the reason why he moved away from Boston was because of the Non-Bostonian Hate that he would get for being from Boston. Why the giggle? Because Rhode Islanders call people from the state north of ours “Massholes” and it struck me ironic that he did precisely the thing that causes Rhode Islanders to call them that…

It also got me thinking about how manners in the Tundras of New England have changed so much. As a world traveler, I continue to be amazed about how people around here avoid anything and everything with strangers that require manners or politeness to be used. The older people (I’m talking Octogenarian) might nod in your direction or say “hello” as you walk by… My age and younger positively avoid it. During my daily walk I’ve watched people ignore me, look away, sometimes even so much as cross the street in order to avoid being remotely civil.

The only response I have for queerfolk here is, “and you wonder why I look outside of the area?”

Still though, it makes this old queer proud. I might not be thanked, I might even be ignored… But at least people hear what I’m saying and making use of it. And with that, I’m off. Time for some inspirational music and to read through some of my news sites before it’s time to take the Monster Child out for his afternoon walk. Until the next time.

Surprises, Bumps & Train Wrecks

Entry 10/09/2014 09:57:21 AM  – Mentat 756

“Nobody, as long as he moves about among the chaotic currents of life, is without trouble.” – Carl Jung

Ah, what a train wreck yesterday turned out to be.

Things seemed to have been going remarkably well.  I started my morning with the extreme surprise of coming in contact with someone I hadn’t seen or even heard from in almost 30 years.  A bar-friend that I used to get together with that used to trawl the old bar, No Name — long since gone and replace with a state agency — and then afterwards head to the old Seaplane Diner for a late night breakfast to work the alcohol out of our systems.  While I didn’t remember him when he messaged me — getting confused with someone else from about that time — when he told me he was from North Providence, I remembered correctly and instantly.  I remember that he used to dress up like a hair-glam rocker; complete with clothes and hair.  I remember he was mostly a shy one when we were out.  I remember when we used to go out, he would order himself a plate of fries and then drench them in condiments.   I remember a couple of his friends.  Chris B who I tried to date and failed rather spectacularly.  And I think another Italian kid who I only remember his name as Dante.   And a woman name Lorna…  Heh, I couldn’t remember her name and Chris had to remind me; thought it started with an R…  But at least it has an R in it.

Interesting memories back then; some of which I’m rather surprised I can remember so clearly and so precisely being so close to the time of the car accident back when I was about 20 years old and somewhere between that time and when I had been raped 2 years later is a very messy time for me to try to remember through.  On the one side, I no longer had my journals for that time (destroyed in a flood) so it’s not like looking at 2004 – 2005 after my break up with Rick…  And reading into those journals seeing an entirely different person I don’t remotely recognize writing them…   On the other hand, sitting here — in the here and now — it’s rather surprising how clear those memories are in spite of the dire times back then.   Sure the memories seem to be darker than average — but it’s more about lighting (and the lack thereof) more than the mood.  Well that and the smells of cigarettes, bad smoke machines and spilled alcoholic drinks.  But those were the times outside of work…

Going on simultaneously was a rather surprising chat with someone — who’s name will be discretely omitted and referred to as C — on a chat/meeting site.  The fact that he admitted being able to sing gives him automatic respect (as I’ve said in the past — me singing produces the same sounds as torturing cats).  He was flirtatious, gregarious, he was keeping up with what was going on and most importantly I didn’t have to reiterate constantly what I was trying to say and perhaps even what I meant.  A definite plus and something that I find attractive.  He was even closer to my age than most of the men I’ve flirted with in the last couple of years.   It made the afternoon go well given I wasn’t at the Deskside, instead watching my mother’s Monster Child (stories to be told in a moment).

Then the train wreck.  As I was wrapping up my time at my mother’s during the last 45 minutes.  The conversation takes a turn into surprise.  C doesn’t want to chat anymore and wants to meet.  Given the intensity and the change of direction it had taken me completely be surprise.  In those moments, I didn’t know what or why, but I reacted hard.  I became brutally honest and in doing so pushed him away hard.  It fell apart after that…  C was distracted by driving…  I was flummoxed and having anxiety.

I can tell you that because of it, I had my first absence (petite mal) seizure since being back in the Tundras of New England.  It wasn’t long — longer than normally experienced.  A fact that if my mother were to hear about this would demand my going to a doctor pronto.

I can tell you that I fell immediately to sleep and slept uninterrupted through to the morning.

I can tell you I feel both embarassed and guilty because I didn’t handle the situation properly.  I apologized, but expect nothing in return.  Nor that he would return.

And this morning after meditating and beginning this journal entry, I can tell you precisely where the anxiety came from…  It started in the unconscious.  It came from seeing the similarities of C’s situation and the years of hell living with Rick a decade before.  It came from the emotional torment and blame that I had gone through at his hands.  And most importantly it came from the similarities I had been seeing.

– that C had a child
– that he was only recently out and not out to many people.
– that there was a travelable distance between where he was and where I am.  60 miles (96.5 km)  which compared from Atlanta to Dalton is close enough for government work.
– that I don’t drive and haven’t for 21 years now.

Combine this with the memories of constant incrimination and derision that I had gone through with Rick and it all came flooding back in flood and fear.

I know, I know…  they’re different people, different circumstances and on and on and on…  Consciously it makes perfect sense and is perfectly logical.  Unconsciously?  No matter what mastery one can have on conscious thought — it’s a dark place, full of emotions and deeply hidden problems that can creep up and pounce when you least expect it.  And that’s precisely what it did.

The best I can do at the moment is ride through the regrets that I had created and let them pass.  I regret bring such demons so early to the table.  I regret that I scared a good man with baggage I thought that I had gotten the best of.  And I regret how it’s ended.  But hey…  It’ll pass like it always does…  I just have to face what it was that scared me and handle it better.

As for what I mentioned earlier in this entry.  Earlier this week she was in for getting the plate removed from her ankle/foot because it was sticking too close to the surface and was interfering with the healing process.  So in the morning and through until about the time that her husband gets home, I stay over her place watching the dog and ensuring he doesn’t have any abandonment issues through that time.  Jack — her monster child — being a rescue still has it months later.

Further developments this afternoon comes from my aunt who received a voicemail from my mother telling her she’s going into surgery for it again this morning.  My aunt couldn’t hear her mostly because she’s going hard of hearing and won’t do anything about it… So I left a message on my mother’s cell with the hopes of finding out more news on this…

There’s more to this too.  My mother’s going to be going back to the hospital next week for a more detailed mammogram.  Last week when she went for her routine examinations — or as she’s fond of call them “breast squishings” — they reported finding a dark spot on her results from her other breast.  I can’t remember which one, just that it was the other one that had cancer in, in the past.

I’m not too worried about it.  It’s one of those wait and see what’s going to happen next with her.  I just wished she would stop smoking..  That would make it a bit easier.

Well that’s about it for the time being.  Until the next time.

Health, Welfare and General Sanity Ruminations

Entry 06/08/2014 11:00:40 AM – Mentat 702

Sleep is for the weak… Or so adrenaline junkies often say.

For me, sleep is an important part of my ability to focus on one subject at a time, instead of flying off in a forty million different directions and finding thirty things to do at once. It allows me to look at my problems from an unconscious standpoint and allow the unconscious to work out the problems my conscious mind can’t wraps itself around. Usually by simply seeing it from a more primal perspective. Without uninterrupted sleep, I often find myself more impatient, more short-tempered about problems or even more prone to avoiding a problem in lieu of complete procrastination. That’s precisely what I’ve been going through the last couple of weeks.

My focus has been shot.

My ability to face stressful situations has caused me to avoid and procrastinate whenever possible.

I’ve found myself anxious when I really shouldn’t be.

I’m clumsy as hell. Last night when I was making myself Cinnamon & Sugar Toast for dessert, I happened to have spilt the teaspoon of sugar all over the table and floor. The dropsies on everything else have been more pronounced. And “best” of all is that the amount of scratches, black & blue marks, and gashing I’ve done to my hands because of this more pronounced.

And worst of all… I’ve had more raging moments than I should have because of this lack of sleep. While I’ve had moments where things have triggered my seeing red; at least I’ve been able to take control of them quickly enough for them not to run rampant as they have in the past.

To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what the contributing factors are for this lack of sleep… Well, it’s not so much lack as it’s more scattered. For example, I will fall asleep like I normally do. Then I’ll wake up 3 – 4 hours later. Then I’ll stay up for 1 – 2 hours. Then fall asleep again to complete at least 6 – 6½ hours sleep.

Wash… Rinse… Repeat… For at least 10 days.

It’s not as though I’ve had stressful dreams. Most of my dreams, while bizarre were not the typical Cthulhu, face-eating weird-fests I typically have. Or even the sort of dreams that conspiracy theorists would be having a blog-party about. If anything they’ve been the sort of bland that friends and acquaintances tell me about whenever I asked them what they dreamed about: Life, Work, Friends, Family… Everyday sort of dreams. Hell, somewhere in the last 10 days, I’ve had more than usual erotic dreams as well… About 5 or 6 if I recall correctly. And what makes them so memorable was that I had been completely lucid in them; right down to one where I recalled the previous dream and made a comment within the dream that I “deserved” this sort of distraction.

It’s not entirely the stress of the summer as it’s beginning to loom on us all here in the Tundras of New England. Sure, there had been a couple of evenings where I felt like I was hotter than usual and struggling with my sheets — but that was quickly remedied by a fan in the window and lightening the sheets and blankets for the summer.

It’s not as though the neighborhood’s to blame… Since the weather’s been warming up, the idiots evacuating from Tammany Hall at closing time are a bit more sedate now then they were at the end of the Winter/beginning of the Spring. Sure, I can hear them occasionally when I’m up at that time, but they haven’t been as rowdy. In fact, they’ve been almost as sedate as the folk that frequent Lily Marlene’s next to the house.

It’s not as though my diet’s entirely to blame… Although I admit there was a couple of nights where what I had for supper did in fact bite me in the ass appropriately. Like the time I had the Mexican Red Chili Taco recipe. Funny thing that, I’ve also had the Moroccan Chicken Stew which was in fact spicier and that didn’t give me heartburn or acid reflux at all. Nothing a glass of milk and sitting up while I digested it didn’t remedy the problem.

And it’s not as though Moe’s to blame either. He’s a rather marvelous bed-time companion; moreso than either Cricket or Tiger ever were. He comes to bed when I’m about to pass out. He’ll get up without much fuss if I roll about a bit and then come back to bed when I’ve stopped moving. While he doesn’t try to get under the covers like either Cricket or Tiger, he’ll make his presence known only if it seems I’m mostly awake and even then he sleeps no higher than my waist. In fact, the only time I’ve heard him make a fuss has been when I cover my head with a pillow to create the absolute dark I need when I’m light-sensitive (pre-migraine). Then he’ll meow blue-murder until I either pet him or call to him. (I need to check with the woman that had given me him. I vaguely remember her saying to me that he’s a rescue from an estate sale; I get the impression that his first owner might’ve been old and died which might explain the anxiety he has when I’m covered head to toe in bed. Especially given that when I leave the house he doesn’t meow abandonment issues like Cricket used to. In fact he’s quite silent when I leave the house for hours at a time).

And finally, it’s not because of this milestone of turning a half-century (in a couple of days). While sure it’s been on my mind, taking a conscious and unconscious temperature, I’m finding myself in the sort of anticipation that I had when I had my epiphany at 25. While sure that time has come and gone and I suspect that I won’t have another — it’s certainly not enough for me to losing any amount of sleep over. If anything I’m not looking forward to my birthday with the same apathy, lack of gusto, and anxiousness I’ve had for many of my birthdays in the past (other than 18, 25 and 45). Sure there’s a little something there as I realize, “holy shit, I’m going to be a half-century old”, but it’s not the sort of “HOLY SHIT!!! I’m going to be 50?!?!” most folk have when they get to that age. Heh, I thank my mother’s side of the family for that sort of non-event enthusiasm. They’ve never made much of a fuss about their birthday and I’ve maintained that tradition through most of my life.

*shrugs* Whatever it is, I hope it passes soon. Or I’ll be seeking out help for it.. And hopefully that help won’t mean pills…

Speaking of Moe, he’s gotten way more comfortable with me (and the house) now that the weather’s stayed warmer. Sure he’s not all in my face or on my shoulder as he typically is during the winter, it’s just that he looks forward to time with me when I decided to take a nap. For as long as I’m above the covers or don’t have a thrown on me, he’ll climb up on me and fall asleep on either my waist or my chest. And like a 4 year old (child) that can sleep any way and anywhere: he’ll happily sprawl out hanging his head off of me while catnapping. If I’m sleeping under the covers, he’ll sleep at the foot of the bed instead.

Also because of the warmer weather — he sleeps through most of the day like a lump on a log. If he eats then, it’s a nibble or two. Most of his eating — wet and dry food — is either early in the morning when I fill his bowls, or in the middle of the night when it’s cooler.

Some of the random thoughts that I’ve had the last week or so are as follows…

The smells at this house are definitely different than what I had gotten used to in the Valley. Gone for example is the fact that I can’t smell the bakery in the early morning. The nearest bakery to this apartment are Scialo’s and Palmieri’s, but they’re too far for from here for any bakery smells. Not to mention they open up later than Maya’s in Olneyville, which was open at the butt-crack of dawn every morning. In it’s place I get barbeque and burger smells from Lily Marlene’s at night. Not to mention cigar smells from there and Tammany Hall in the late evening when the winds are just right. Sometimes in the morning I might catch the smells of dryers and fabric softeners from the apartment complex on Knight and Swiss St, or Addie’s. Lately through it’s been construction smells of asphalt (from the renovation/stripping) they did on Knight Street, or the apartments opposite here on Marcello at least for the last couple of weeks because the landlord’s getting the place prepped for new tenants (now that the loud, redneck tenants there had moved out last month).

Across the street here, I’m beginning to suspect hanky-panky of some sort from the chav there (my family calls him a wigger, but he lacks the bling). One, they never open their windows or blinds. Two, in the last week they had put in security cameras on the second floor that watch the driveway and front area of the house. While either the chav, or their kids occasionally make appearances in the yard, there’s just something about their actions that raises suspicions. I was reminded of the idiot at 32 Tuxedo that did the same thing (kept his windows constantly shut and shades drawn). Turns out that the ex-tenant at 32 Tuxedo who disappeared like a thief in the middle of the night was running a marijuana hydroponics set up that when he moved out — douche-bag ex-landlord was whinging up a storm about the thousands of dollars of costs to the water bill that had been run up by the tenant.

Anthony’s Tony’s (the business owner for the upholstery store at the corner) nephew was here working on his truck on the street. Well, he, the chav across the street and one of the chav’s friends that’s here Monday through Friday while the chav’s wife is at work — were in some sort of committee trying to figure out what the problem with the truck was. When I left my mother’s to come home after installing the air conditioners for her, Anthony (my landlord) was out there trying to help him out, and I couldn’t help but overhear the tales of woe from Tony’s nephew on how the inspection sticker had been stolen (quite the work given the adhesive lasts more than a year and can only be removed by razorblade), how he had been arrested and how they beat him up while he was in lock-up. While I was trying to hide the facepalming I was doing while unlocking the front door, I caught the look of two passers-by that were walking their dogs that were laughing visibly at the over-dramatic tales of woe. Apparently, they didn’t believe his story any more than I did and Anthony being as deaf has he was, didn’t hear any of it.

Then Tuesday when my mother and I got up at our usual time (6 AM) and headed to the laundromat, we stopped along the way at an ATM only to find her Debit Card is missing. Seems that over the weekend she had cleaned out her wallet and in the process of that, misplaced her card somewhere in the house. Of course she stressed out. Of course, I tried my best to keep her calm. We called off the laundry trip for the next day while she looked about the house for the missing card. The bad news was that she couldn’t find it. The good news is that it wasn’t lost outside of the house as my mother’s been monitoring her account and nothing unusual has happened. So she’s waiting 3 – 5 business days for the replacement/copy card to come in the mail. That didn’t mean that for the remainder of the day (until her trip to the bank to request a replacement card) she wasn’t completely stressed out about it being missing. And of course, even with me trying to keep everyone calm, it felt like it was just a veneer to being stressed out myself.

[Last Edited: 06/08/2014 09:57:53 PM]

I’ve come to the decision that I want nothing to do with queerfolk in Rhode Island. They’re rude in ways that I cannot even begin to describe. Try simply to chat with them and they completely ignore you. When they try to chat me up, while I’ve been friendly with them they get intimidated because they see my first requirement (of my 4 Rules of Dating) of 6’4″ and taller as the deal breaker for them having any sort of chance. When they push forward, it’s almost always because they want a Friend-with-Benefits, have the sort of daddy fantasies that scream instead “Daddy issues” to me, or *dry heave* NSA, which is met with complete shock that I want something more substantial, or ignored because I want to take my time.

I recall I made mention in previous journal entries of attempting something more… long-distance. I admit though, I haven’t really tried at all. For one, I haven’t tried socializing in any place where folk socialize and mingle. Well other than perhaps one or two MMOs, but those are gamers and not the sort of folk that socialize much other than to get to the end of some mission or another. And even then — there hasn’t been anyone really to spark my attention, other than to make a joke or three with. Eh… In any case, I have more important issues to work on, instead of dating anyway. I just need to cut out whinging on this subject and move on without so much as a second thought.

There’s more to write, but I can’t remember at the moment as I’m tired. I’ll make one more attempt tomorrow… Until then.

[Last Edited: 06/09/2014 08:47:31 AM]

Oh I remember now what the point I forgot about last night… Had to do with something that I was dealing with in an MMO I was playing (Rift). Was with the guild I play with on my main character (Hyakinthos) and I believe I was either doing a dungeon or a raid with them. The straight boys were going on about how they’re glad that the “heavy hitters” aren’t in the group as it allowed them to score better points on the DPS meter. It was (basically) a show of e-peen at it’s finest. Uh, as a Saboteur when it comes to groups of mobs no one — and I do mean no one — can come close to the DPS I’m capable of doing. Even during the Raid I did last night, if I started first early with the attack I was ahead of everyone by 10% of the total damage.

But apparently because I’m not cock-slapping a boss one-on-one during the fight with that awesome amount of damage, I’m simply to be treated like the red-headed step-child and it doesn’t count. Ha, silly straight boys and their e-peen games. It always gives me a chuckle the demented rules straight men and boys make up in order to prove their superiority in a situation. Ironically, I was taught somewhere along the line that if working as a team and defeating the issue (be it opponent, obstacle, or problem) is a win for everyone. Too bad this is a lost lesson for many…

Anyway, I’m really done at the moment. Two more days and counting. And I’m going to be a half-century. Woo… Until the next time.

A pat on the back with a healthy dose of headdesk

Entry 05/05/2014 08:31:09 AM – Mentat 698

Sometimes I feel like I’m between wanting to give myself a pat on the back and wanting to bang my head against the desk repeatedly. On the latter is because of the computer rebuild that I was left to do… And for the former the same reason(s). Okay so this was the deal…

I got fed up with the black screens that occurred when I was playing games: Rift and even Star Trek Online (which surprisingly isn’t a video card intensive program like Rift, Star Wars: The Old Republic, or even Warframe). So I decided on doing a roll-back on the video-card drivers based on the information provided on a couple of the forums that I was reading that had the same problems.

All right, easy enough. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem, I thought to myself. I began the process of uninstalling the drivers for the nVidia Card. Rebooted as instructed and let Windows try to install the generic nVidia Drivers.

Generic my ass! The drivers that Windows was attempting to install were the very same drivers that I just uninstalled! So uninstalling them, rebooting one more time and canceling the installation process, I tried to delete the nVidia directories as instructed and then tried installing the drivers I had before this debacle: 332.21. Successfully installed and restarted one more time….

…to be met time and time again with black screens during the boot-up process. I couldn’t get into windows at all no matter how hard I tried. Getting into safe mode though was a breeze. So in to Safe Mode I went to remove the drivers and give it another try to load up the generic drivers. And once again I was met with nothing but black screens during the reboot process.

Left with no choice, I decided to go into the closet to pull out the images for the drive. Gone… Any of the recent loads that I had set up for this system (Motherboard and vid-card specific) had been thrown out apparently. Back-up plan #2, grab the old-time Windows 7, Office 2007 and load up from scratch there. I took a look at the Windows 7 CD and it turned out to be the old 32-bit OEM version for the older system (long since dead). Apparently I also threw out the 64-bit version of it instead of 32-bit version along with the images that I was supposed to keep.

Ugh, I thought, It’s time for me to look online for the 64-bit ISO file.

It’s a good thing that Microsoft has entered into the digital age and allowed a couple of third-party companies to allow free distribution of the ISO images so that someone — like me — who has the license number stored on an external drive to pick the image up for a burn.

Following the instruction provided I was able to pick up the USB Stick burner for Windows and the 64-bit ISO while in Safe-mode. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to load up the USB image program in safe-mode, so a couple of attempts of trying to get windows to recognize the missing video drivers, I was finally able to back into Windows normally and install the imaging program. Realizing that my Thumb-drives weren’t big enough, I rushed over to my mother’s to pick up the one that I knew was well big enough to run the image on. And after explaining the situation to her, was back at the house burning the image to the thumb-drive in record time.

The install didn’t go as well as I expected the first time. Not formatting the Local Disk as I normally would, I tried to run the re-installation allowing Windows to create the Windows.old instead. It halted about ¾ of the way though and wouldn’t continue after almost 30 minutes (Looking back as I’m writing this, I should have realized what the problem was, but I was too annoyed with myself and the foibles that these nVidia drivers had caused). I restarted, formatted the drive and reinstalled.

This time it was a success and I was booting from the hard drive in about 30 minutes from installation. And in spite of the fact that I was able to download Windows 7 SP1, this still meant that I would have quite a lot of updates to download from Windows Update Center. 175 to be exact.

4 hours later I was finishing up the Windows update and on the last reboot and final 4 updates, I decided it was time to register Windows. This is when I see less than my usable RAM being listed: only 3.98 GiB usable. Then it hits me — I have the 32-bit version of Windows 7 installed. (And this is why it hung when it did before… you can go from a 32-bit to 64-bit architecture, but not the other way around).

At this point I spent 7 hours trying to get the system back to running properly and I was getting frustrated and tired. It was about 12:30 AM at this point and I decided to call it a night and try fresh the next morning.

The next morning with about 6 hours of toss & tumble sleep, I was back at it, trying to get the correct ISO burned onto the Thumb drive and while waiting for it to complete, double-checked the site I had originally picked up the ISO from. Sure enough, the 64-bit URL was for the 32-bit DVD. So fortunately I had picked it up from a different site and with it being over 3 GiB, I was more than reasonably sure I had the 64-bit Operating System. Now came the long haul of reinstalling everything I could as quickly as possible.

I was able to get the older nVidia drivers installed (version 332.21) because I had set Windows update to “Remind me Later”, and with a little work everything was back to running smoothly, in spite of the fact that I had more than 172 updates to go through and all the programs, utilities, games and what not.

9 hours later with some strange quirks I didn’t expect from one game (Rift) and two utility/programs (iTunes and KeyText), I was 95% installed to where I used to be. For Rift, apparently I need to have some special files from DirectX 9.0c SDK in order for it to run properly. Without it, the opening cut-scenes will cause anyone with epilepsy falling into a seizure. iTunes went terrorist and when I connected my iPod Touch to perform a sync revoked permissions to the music directory causing iTunes to lose track of where the music was stored (adding a file://localhost/ to the beginning of each file of music it had in its database). So, after re-establishing permissions for the directory on the drive, iTunes was completely copacetic ​and didn’t try to get schizophrenic about the music location again. And KeyText… Well, it’s telling me that the system was different than the last (only thing different at this point might have been the driver versions since the last install… So instead of writing an e-mail to the developer to ask for a different license key (I did so years ago and he was surprised I was still using the program), decided it was time to move on and find a freeware alternative. For the time being I’m going to need to break myself of the habit of launching a majority of my most used programs with a simple three-key combination. Fun times there as I caught myself almost clicking CTRL+SHIFT+G to launch Google Chrome more times out of instinct than naught.

Then during my long haul wait installing Windows updates on the wrong version of the operating system Saturday night, I was sitting at the table in the kitchen on the laptop playing a game of e-mail tag with someone from the local LGBT site that said as a start, “I have always wanted to meet you…” Of course, I had one of my “always? Always is a long time, and chances are I don’t know anyone in this state for that long…”

At first I thought it was that well-meaning but disorganized man from the Metro-Boston area that I had given up on years ago when he transposed his phone number a couple of times (and one that I called with a woman’s voicemail), and then after leaving a clear message with my callback number, wrote me to tell me he had accidentally deleted the voicemail message). Turns out it was another man from the Metro-Boston area that I recall having a short conversation with that was not only hell-bent on simply meeting up but also was… simple… in that limited way where I had visions of having a conversation after work that goes something like this:

Him: “What did you do today?”

Me: “Well it was a tough as fuck day with us trying to track down why there was a flutter in a dark fibre connection only to discover that we had to drive out to the middle of nowhere because we had to splice the optics back together due to a Cable Locator nicking the cable. Took a couple of hours of work, but it ended up right as rain. Then the phones came off the hook as we found out that a node for an area decided to take a break and just shut down. It’s not up right now, but fortunately for the fact that we weren’t authorize for OT, the second team that came in will have it running in an hour. What about you? What did you do today?”

Him: “I like turtles.”

The e-mail conversation was going pretty much the same way as before with me asking very poignant and pointed questions and the answers I was getting from him were one-off/odd-and-not-in-a-good-way (that didn’t quite answer the questions posed). After about the fifth not-quite answer, I reminded him why the last conversation we had ended so abruptly some years back, wished him well and went my merry way…

Friends, family and sometimes total strangers that hear me express my opinion (to the positive) on long-distance relationships wonder why I prefer starting most of them this way. I tell you why… When knowing that physical proximity is an issue that prevents instantaneous meetings and shading first impressions on physical attraction, you have to make impressions based on mental acuity. You also need to have the ability to express feelings not only in facial expression (when talking on web-cam) but also in words and written phrases.

And let’s face it, I’m not 20-something anymore. Sex isn’t something driven strongly by hormones… or used as a handshake (not that I ever did that, I never handled that casualness really well). With age comes experience, and bruises… As I said to the man while I was doing my reinstall, “…we’re at the point where we have baggage and luggage from the hurts and pains life has offered to us. A slow approach is best to work those issues out…”

Since coming home (to New England), I’ve gotten a lot of the sex as a handshake approach — from men my age too. Like the lessons we were put through from the time we were able to hit the clubs and mingle with other queerfolk haven’t been learned at all. Hell, I remember some years ago telling someone that I’d rather take it slow and was retorted with, “…slow at our age wasn’t an option… that we needed to jump right into bed and make the most of it while it still worked, we still had our looks…” That certainly put me off of men my age when that sentiment was resounded by someone else I had spoken to a couple of months later.

*Sighs* Anyway, I’m losing steam on this. I’ve said this stuff before; more times than I care to count. The fact is, I prefer to take my time — even if it’s long-distance. That and at least I won’t have to deal with New England Queerfolk that I’ve had horrible experience with since I moved away from the area back in 1993. Not unless there’s someone — anyone — around here that doesn’t come off completely unstable and is capable of expressing themselves.

Well, I need to run for the time being. Until the next time.

Quandaries on the Road of Life

Entry 04/12/2012 08:53:23 AM – Mentat 640

Ah, what fun it’s been this morning and it’s only the start. I finally did sort of get the right amount of sleep last night woke up with the growing dawn and sunrise. I didn’t mind it so much as I did get the right amount of sleep. The Mad Cat Committee™ was skulking about my door this morning — mainly with Saucy wanting in this time instead of Wilma (probably so that she could caterwaul out my window to announce how ready she is to have kittens). *eye roll* at least Saucy’s quiet at the moment, though I digress… And I got through all my chores quickly this morning; though the air head that I am, the last ½ hour I was like, “where’s my coffee?” only to realize that the water was in the maker, the pot in the right place and the coffee was in the filter, but damn if I didn’t leave the cover to the coffeemaker up and the coffeemaker off. Yeah, this is a sure sign to what’s going to be going on today for the likes of me, I’m sure of it.

So this morning, I’m off on a tear to watch through a few soap operas. Part of the reason is because all of my chores are done. Part of the reason is because I want to avoid a semi-sore subject from last night. Part of the reason is because I have other issues I should be thinking on and don’t really want to at the moment. And finally part of the reason is because I really need to get over my running away from soap operas every time the story gets too gripping.

Yeah, that’s a fun one to be sure. I know that soap operas are supposed to be train wrecks in various degrees. Relationships come together and crash apart in often spectacular drama. Sure infidelity and deceit are easy enough for me to handle in any sort of story — but when it comes to heartbreak? I’m running away as fast as I can. Skid marks are left from about where my desk is, to the other side of the house (and sometimes even farther out to the street). I don’t know what it is about heartbreak in a story that causes me to run for the hills more than any other element. I mean I’ve gone through my fair share of it in my life — but seeing it happening to someone else? Just tears me and I just can’t watch. Sometimes I think it’s because I feel so helpless watching and not being able to interact. Other times, it’s just that I find myself annoyed (when I realize it later on) just how stupid people can be sometimes. And still other times, I believe it’s because writers can be horribly trite and contrived and make the drama happen because they don’t know how to handle the real drama of making things work with two characters in a story.

Yeah, yeah… I know… Soap Opera… They’re supposed to work out that way. No one’s supposed to live happily ever after in a soap opera. That wouldn’t be a soap, it would be a fantasy. But it makes it easier to realize that in the real world — there’s more to problems than the most contrived that come up in Soap Operas.

Take for example the problem from last night that I’ve been sort of avoided thinking too much about. I was supposed to chat with someone online last night who didn’t show up and only noted me two hours after the time we were supposed to meet and chat telling me that he had to make some sort of emergency trip to western Massachusetts and that he wouldn’t be back until midnight. Even after the note that he had left me, I am ready to write him off. For a person that says that he’s “emotive” and “expressive” I have found him each time we’ve attempted to chat online to be stilted and an emotional wreck from pressures in his life. My impression is that he lacks even the most rudimentary multitasking abilities and incapable to switching gears as a means of taking a break from whatever it is that’s bothering him. While he’s been respectful of my wishes about taking it slow and chatting a bit online first — he has made a couple of overt comments (which come off more for me as gentle pressuring) about his wanting to talk with me on the phone so that he can hear instead of reading me.

I feel… nothing… when I’ve talked with him in chat and in note. I get the distinct impression as though I’m father confessor for his problems and drama. And worst of all, I feel completely detached whenever I give him any wisdom. As though I’m going through the motions for the sake of it and nothing more. There’s no emotional commitment nor want to emotionally invest to anything that he says. It’s the sort of feeling I get whenever I find someone that while being good intentioned and well-meaning, though is trying way too hard to impress. For lack of a better phrase, it’s like caressing the air: I can feel the pressure of the air’s movement, but there is positively no substance to it.

As I sit here with his apology in my inbox, I find myself in sort of a quandary about how I want to handle it. On the one side, I think it’s time to simply end this before it goes anywhere else. One of the things that I want in my life is a man that can live up to his word (after all, if a man can’t live by his word, what is the man’s worth?). Damion absolutely positively spoiled me on this. When Damion made a promise, he quite literally lived up to it — even if at the appointed time he said he would show up — he would tell me that he needed more time to think it through. In the year and a day that Damion and I were together he had never left me feeling as though I were in limbo (well, except for that one time, but he didn’t run away when I confronted him).

What’s got me thinking is that I’m sure this man — Tom is his name — had ample time to realize that this trip was going to happen and that a note more than 2-hours after the promised time is never a good omen for anything. Particularly when you consider that he could’ve noted me on his way out the door telling me he would need to reschedule.

On the other… Well on the other, I’m sitting here thinking I’m being too hard and harsh in my decision. I have other — more serious issues — going on in my life at the moment that can definitely be shading my actions and reactions on this. And perhaps because of those more serious issues I’m pulling one of my notorious “cut out all the drama” moments in order to balance myself back to peaceful.

I think I’m going to sit on it for a couple of more days before I make any decision, in spite of the majority of evidence present that states that the best that could come of this is a casual friendship.

Heh, and for the record, I’ve stopped watching the soaps again. Seems that it’s hinting that one of Oliver’s trysts (Verboten Liebe) from the past has HIV and further inferred through body-language and looks that the two of them had been intimate. I think it’s a PSA-type message — the first one for this German Soap Opera that I find so blatant in American Soaps — and I’m not in the mood of going down a road I’ve gone down in reality a hundred times, and on television a thousand more. So instead of dealing with the continuing story for the moment, I’m off to making Apophysis Fractals for a bit (and man am I ever rusty). So expect a couple of uploads from me on this in the usual places.

As for the other issue… I’m not quite ready to talk about it. I’d rather stew on it a whole lot more before I start talking about it. Well that and I have to confront the intended party before I start pouring out what I’m thinking and feeling here. It is the least I can do about it.

Other than that, well… I’m finally in a good mood. I have my iced coffee here at my desk, watch the seconds tick by for another fractal that came out interesting all on it’s own and without any help from me (and looks like a woman’s fan) as it finishes, listening to some trance and enjoying the fact that the car wash is dead, dead, dead. Seems that the witch doctors have been predicting more rain today (though from what I’m seeing, it’s only partly cloudy) so no one’s over there making a nuisance for the denizens of the neighborhood. I’ve been stuck on John O’Callaghan’s remix of Gareth Emery’s Concrete Angel mostly because I find the lyrics to the song to being on the mark with the issue I’m not ready to talk about. Time to find something else to listen to, else I have another episode of a song getting stuck in my head and going on all day. That and perhaps play a game or three before another round of “I’m so (fill in the blank)” when the roommate wakes up.

Time for me to run. Until the next time.

The Old Queer has had his fill

Entry 03/08/2012 03:40:44 PM – Mentat 633

At the moment, I’m extremely crestfallen and aggravated.

I’m annoyed over the fact that since Mark’s returned from his trip to the south, this house is once again a pig-sty.

I’m fed up with all the games that queerfolk play in order to meet a man (and all the games that the play when the man isn’t what they’re looking for).

I’m sick and tired of dAmn Chat and how the same people who cause the same problems continue to be given free reign to act the way they do, and no one seems to do anything to correct the problem.

I’m beyond disgusted in the way that DA has become another Photobucket by Facebook Attention Whores that should have stayed to Facebook like the good little sheep that they are.

While I was at the laundromat (to take advantage of the warm temps early so that as it continues to warm up here in the Tundras of New England I can get out more), I tried writing this journal entry and found myself raging over things I should have waited until having a cup of coffee and a little time to myself and couldn’t remotely put my thoughts to paper because of how much anger I had been suffering from. Thanks to Glenn and a whole lot of hard work in getting my bike back into working order I was able to calm down. Well that and the fact that I was able to pick up an extra-large iced coffee and muffin and enjoy it out on the back stoop just before I worked on fixing the ever so flat tire I didn’t work on last year at the end of autumn. Oh and yes, it was another nail stuck into the tire that caused it to go flat in the first place. Jeez, you’d think that with all the nails in the roads up in my hometown, there was construction going on… Not that I actually saw much of it on the routes that I used to take… But I digress.

I woke up this morning seriously at the end of my rope when it comes to the state of this house since Mark’s returned. From the food stains on the floor to the oil splatters all over the stove. The fact that the cat box is once again in a state of disgust to Saucy once again going into heat. Seriously I’ve been in welfare complexes that were in better shape than I’ve been seeing here. While in the shower (and trying not to curl my nose at the overpowering smell of ammonia from the cat box), I decided it was once again time to cut off Mark’s internet connection. Seriously, the only two things he does for hours at a time is sit there and watch television and stir shit up on Facebook. This was quite the bone of contention a couple of days ago when he dragged himself out of bed early enough (noon time instead of the usual 3 – 4 in the afternoon) and sat around doing nothing all afternoon, then got a wild hair across his ass at 7 PM and wanted to move the box spring and mattress in the front hallway up to the apartment. *eye roll* By the evening the only energy that I have is light stuff, and it’s never a good idea to try to move an inflexible box spring in an ill-lit stairwell anyway. But that didn’t daunt him and he ended up getting a friend over the house… Much to my aggravation and ire.

So I told him he has 2 weeks to get everything straightened out. Failing that I’m going to be moving out.

The landlord is about finished with two of the four vacant apartments in this building, and I’m thinking for convenience sake I’m going to take the one across the hallway. Part of the reason is because it’ll be easy to move all the furniture and possessions from one side to the other, but most of the reason is because the bathroom’s bigger and the room that I’d settle for the bedroom is in the back of the house (instead of the front as it is here), and I can avoid a majority of the noise from the Car Wash across the street. And finally I like being this high off the ground… Again because this is a flood area, and I’d rather have things mostly safe than under water.

Seriously I’m beside myself with some of the shit I’ve seen in the last week. From the windows open and the heater on full blast. Yes… Mark burned whatever it was that he was cooking at 11 PM at night (I remember the acrid smell as I was lying there in bed trying to sleep) and opened the windows to air out the house. But at the same time he left the heat running full blast for the next 4 hours afterward. I recall this because I woke up at 3 in the morning and saw much to my horror the windows open and being blasted by the heat as I came out of my room (the space heater remember is to the right of my door). He tells me he “flaked”, but given his paying history on the utilities, I was still beside myself and fighting the want to smack him upside the heat ’til his teeth would rattle.

Oh there’s so much more I could cover on this, but I fear I’m only going to sound like a broken record. I’ve said my peace on this.. All that’s left at this point is getting him to man up, or getting me to move out.

Next up on the ire chopping block has got to be the way queerfolk act online… Yeah, I know — I’ve been online 23 years now I should already know how things are going to turn out on that front. Still though I still find myself surprised by the way that things seem so stagnant and unchanging when it comes to meeting someone online. Take for example the last man that I chatted with… On one of the sites, there’s a track list that shows the people that have come to check my profile… While admittedly most of them are headless horsemen showing off their members more their face, this one had a face pic for his primary and I remembered him. Hard not to forget him either given he admits to being 6’8″ (2.03 meters). He had checked out my profile at least 7 times in the 4+ months that I’ve been in Providence, of which the last time I finally noted him suggesting that if he’s going to continually check out my profile that much he might as well get acquainted with me.

What does he do? He unlocks his private pictures so that I can see him in all his naked glory.

I told him he didn’t have to do anything of the sort, as a note would’ve been fine.

He tells me that the reason why he’s shown his private pictures was because he’s since gained weight and people stop talking with him when they realize he’s overweight.

I commented back that I understood his predicament (given I’m a man that is self-confidently average looking) and that sometimes you have to take the chance in spite of the odds. Somewhere in the middle of this, I made an oblique reference to A Midsummer Night’s Dream… What do I get? Nothing. Zip.. Nada. No response whatsoever other than a receipt that he read what I wrote.

And I sit here writing this, I can’t help but ask, “is it just me?” (queue reference to the movie I just watched). And the next question that comes to mind is, “is it that difficult to being at least polite to turning someone down?” Heh. I know the answer to that one from a couple of years ago — even being polite will cause some pretty negative repercussions.

Then people wonder why I look at them as though they’re complete freaks of nature when this happens.

Finally I’ve come to the end of my time on dAmn. At this point in my life, it’s dead to me, like MSN Chat. Like Yahoo! Chat. Like IRC long before both of these. I’m tired of petulant children that should either be banned for their negative attitudes in a chat, to trolls that lack finesse to even good people that act as though they don’t have the power to handle the problem because heaven forbid they take away that person’s “Freedom of Speech” (really, the First Amendment does not work this way).

Deviant Art isn’t that much farther behind either… In my time of going through the front page when I show up, I’m finding less and less art and more and more plagiarism. I’m seeing less innovation and more and more copying. I’m seeing more and more line tracings from crappy anime and cartoons. Going through the categories I would “ooh” and “ah” through, I’m seeing mis-categorized work that doesn’t seem to get cleaned up quickly. In one such category I checked out — there were mis-categorized work dating back more than 6 months still there. And worst of all, I’m seeing more and more Facebook Drama Whores doing crappy mirror phone camera shots that shriek like harpies and banshees if you so much as remotely criticize their work with their ass-licking sycophant friends coming out of the woodwork like the Furies on a mission because you happened to “attack” their friend’s “art”.

I was fortunate that my disgust of Zuckerberg’s raping of personal privacy that I had left Facebook, deleting my account years ago… But I didn’t think I would be seeing the spillover from it hitting Deviant Art as it has as quickly as it has. All because these desperate attention seeking, immature children are looking for validation to their vapid lives through how many page-views they get for their main page.

This is part of the reason why I’ve stopped posting any of my fractal work on DA, and has been contributing heavily to my considering when things warm up more I’m not going to be posting my Pictures of the Day there either. I would delete my account there altogether if it weren’t for the kind contributions from fellow patrons, and might consider it when my subscriptions expire.

I know, I know… Take a break Michael. Don’t do anything rash. Common sense beat anyone thinking of saying this to me. Though keep in mind it’s also common sense that’s telling me that it might be time to move on as well. After all, it’s hard to being polite to people when deluged by the very same folk that have poisonous hatred infesting their every comments and attitudes. After all, as the bumper sticker I used to have on my old Datsun decades ago once said, “The Rat Race is over.. The Rats Won!” And there are still plenty of rats all over the place.

As for the rest… My bike’s finally fixed. Axle on the back tire’s a bit wobbly, but I think I fixed that problem with a combination of tightening the axle and gear wheel, along with tightening it to the back part of the frame. I took it for a ride this afternoon heading up to the Stop & Shop on Manton Ave – about 2 miles (3.22 km) up the road from the house — and while the brakes are a bit squishy, it’s good to go for the next couple of months. Fortunately for me I bought new brakes last year that are still in the package.. Whether I do this myself or stop by the bike shop on Broadway remains to be seen… Heh, chances are I’ll have someone else do it. The last time I changed out the brakes, the back axle broke and I had to buy a new bike. Or was that the one where the pedal assembly cracked? Either or, I recall I had to buy a new bike shortly after the brake change and I don’t want to jinx myself again.

Oh oh oh, yeah… back to the other comment. I’ve suspended the picture of the day as well. Seriously there’s only just so many pictures of houses and what not to show off color, and with spring around the corner I want to take pictures of some of the flora in the area when it starts budding. For example, looking out the window from my room, I can see the buds are beginning to grow on the tree outside. Which means that there’s other plants on their way to budding and greening out. It’s now time to show off some more living color and less painted… Doesn’t mean I’ve completely stopped, it’s just that I want something a bit more… natural.

Well that’s about it for the time being.. Supper time here and I need to eat before my sugar does the plummet again. The last thing I need again is my getting either the giggles or emotional over the stupidest of things. Until the next time.

TGI Laundry Day

Entry 03/02/2012 10:06:53 AM – Mentat 632

Another Friday, another day at the laundromat.

The roommate’s come home a couple of days late, but at least he’s home in time for the routine song and dance with the landlord about how his section of the rent’s going to be late. At this point I find myself apathetic. I’ve reached my limit to his song and dance and for as long as I’m not dealing with eviction notices, I could care less of what arrangement Mark has with the landlord. Although I do know the landlord’s in a tight fix because all four families in my apartment complex have finally moved out leaving us and one neighbor on the third floor there. I heard when the landlord stopped by to drop off rat traps that another three of his apartments have been mostly vacated as ours have as well — so while he’s going to be a bit tense about late rent, he’s not going to push too hard given that he doesn’t want to lose what little income he has coming in at the moment.

According to what Mark’s telling me, his “job” wants him to head back to New Orleans in a couple of weeks there is some sort of International Art Exposition/Seminar/What-have-you going on there middle of the month and the company that he’s contracted through wants him to represent the company at it. Unlike his last trip, he’s only going to be gone a weekend (at most) at the company’s expense, so it’s not as though I get an extended break from his “motivational” speeches. This time since he’s come home, he’s telling me that he wants to clean up the two rooms he squats in… Heh and me being me will only believe it when I see it.

Though I did promise to help him try to get the box spring and mattress he had been given from the now ex-girlfriend before her move south. The mattress is going to be easy enough as it’s flexible… But the box spring? It’s a queen sized and I can’t see that getting up either stairwell. This is after all an old house and so the hallways were built for humans being of the average height of 5’6″ (167 cm), so I can see all sorts of problems getting it up the stairs. I think it might fit through the back windows, but the problem with this is that we would need to get them out of the frame to get it in… And given this is the second floor… I can see all sorts of accidents happening. Heh, it makes me glad that I went with a single sized futon instead of a double. Well that and the frame comes completely apart with a couple of easy to twist screws.

Wilma (the feral) and I have finally worked out an agreement. Her eyes have got to be the worst out of the three when it comes to collecting gunk in them. So every morning when I wake up, crack open the door to my room and head to the bathroom, she’ll wait patiently on the heater (when it’s idle and not on) or at just out of the way of the door (when it is), and when I’m done with my nature call, will allow me to clean her eyes providing that the very next thing I do is throw food for her. For as long as I either sit with her or throw kibble — she’s content. Found this out when one morning I gave her a pet, cleaned her eyes and then walked away which she had then hissed and took a swing at me in a miff. The instant I went to the kibble bowl, she was more than happy and forgot that what I had done.

The other two… Heh… Well… I’ll be uploading a picture I had taken last week of one of the two getting somewhere she wasn’t supposed to. Whiskey is finally sleeping with me when I nap (though he makes such an effort about where and how he wants to sleep on my lap). Since Mark’s come home the three of them don’t spend half as much time around him as he was used to. They might return to normal if he sticks around the house for longer, though right now they look to me for about everything: food, company, play and to moan about being lonely.

Since my last journal entry I’ve gone on a movie binge. So far I’ve watched, How to Train Your Dragon, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, Priest, District 13, Quantum of Solace, Is it Just Me?, Strapped, Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief, Star Trek: Nemesis, You Should Meet My Son!, and Dog Tags At the time of my writing this entry I still have Shank, Sherlock Holmes and District 13: Ultimatum to get through… Some of the thoughts that I’ve had on the various movies have been:

• Since when do Vikings have Scottish Accents? Sickly sweet cute and nauseatingly politically correct, but hit the spot just right in spite of it all. Oh and Jay Baruchel continued to pull off nerdy well. (How to Train Your Dragon)
• Luc Besson creates some interesting cult movies, but his sequels suck so badly they warp the very fabric of time and space! (District 13, but Transporter comes readily to mind for this as well. Thankfully he’s never made a sequel to Fifth Element, but I bet it would suck worse).
• Percy Jackson came too late. It would’ve done perfect years earlier (even before Harry Potter), but because of Potter, this is a desperate grab for another franchise to capture kids and kids at heart to watching a new series. Oh, and since when did Greek Gods have British and Scottish Accents?
• Nicolas Cage at least didn’t look like he was sleepwalking and on drugs in this film, and the rug on his head was certainly better (than the rug he had on his head in Next). But even Alfred Molina couldn’t save this paltry live-action reimagining of the Fantasia clip of the same name. Jay Baruchel was able to pull off nerd really well: I remember being that awkward in high school too. (Sorcerer’s Apprentice).
• I’m glad I bailed on Star Trek back before Star Trek: Insurrection. This movie sucked. Good on Brent Spiner though to kill his character off to prevent him from coming back. And B4 is too “limited” to pull off Data’s resurrection in spite of what they did with him in Star Trek Online (Star Trek: Nemesis).
• James Bond has lost its vision. There was an insane megalomaniac in this, but there was no clear point of a plan to destroy the world, no resolution when the villain was caught, and too many mixed messages about the current state of the world. I can see why this movie had such a cold reception at the box office. (Quantum of Solace)
• The South isn’t that stereotypical, though the message was clear enough. The sisters remind me too keenly of my family when it comes to computers too (You Should Meet My Son!)
• I could completely relate to the hero in Is it Just Me? And the love interest reminded me too much of Damion when he used to get stubborn and steadfast. Well that and the love interest’s attempt at a southern accent did as well.
• A story about a hustler lost in an apartment complex who falls in love… While this is a sort of fairy tale, some of the messages that I walked away with from this movie left me thinking on more than one level. It’s a movie I would actually recommend to friends interested in the genre (Strapped).
• I went into it mindless (Priest) and enjoyed it in spite of the fact that the Priests were Jedi Knights in black. Oh and a big thumb’s up to the fact that the Vampires were murderous killers and not disco balls on legs.
• What a Charlie-Foxtrot! What message they were trying to hint at in the beginning of this film is nothing of the message that it ended with. I need to recommend a run-away from this movie to anyone that asks about it! (Dog Tags).

That’s just the movies I’ve seen so far. One of these days I might go back to writing a review or two.. Right now though — quick thoughts are about as much as I want to share. I think I might even get around to picking up Apollo 18 as well. There was also another movie that I was talking with Glenn about that I would put off for another day. While I can’t remember it off the top of my head, I’m pretty sure it’s time to pick it up as well.

So there’s a new word that’s ending up on my “loathe” list and that’s regular. Men looking for a regular guy. Men who describe themselves as regular. Seems that earlier this week, I had someone say to me that he was a regular guy and that he’s looking for someone regular. Heh, nipped that one in the bud by telling him right off there’s nothing “regular” about me. Really, what is this quest for finding a man that has as much color as gray and as much personality as Lurch? It’s one thing to be stoic and perhaps as reliable as a rock to stand on — but it’s quite the other to remove all personality traits and expression to the point of being projecting one as bland. I mean sure it’s not remotely truthful — look at the things my roommate said to me to sell himself and what I’ve discovered of him 4 months later is quite contradictory… But to intentionally try to sell oneself as that bland is mind-boggling.

Well that’s going to be it for the time being. Off I go to watch a bit of movies and then off to make lunch. Until the next time.

Entry 02/28/2011 10:22:11 AM – Mentat 603

Ugh.

I just went outside to throw the trash and what does my senses tell me? Gone is the snow that had fallen yesterday and in its place, I’m dealing with ice and freezing rain instead. Was particularly thrilling when that raindrop of coincidence decided to hit me in just the right spot on my neck and trickle down my spine. And to think I thought I was awake after having my morning coffee and shower. Heh, nothing beats getting chills running up and down one’s back thanks to near freezing water.

I was up pretty early thanks largely to the parade of cat up and down my pillows because she had decided that I had slept more than long enough because she was hungry and didn’t want to snack on the dry food that’s out any longer. A half-hour before the alarm was going to go off too. I might love her to death, but this new habit of hers is annoying as well because she acts as though she wants under the covers, but when I pick them up to allow her in, she mews at me and changes position on the pillows. To think that almost a decade ago when she was hungry she would stick a cold and wet nose into my ear and purr (and as she got older; drool) to wake me up.

*looking at the calendar* Cricket’s going to be 14 at the end of this week. Pretty amazing that she still has her sight and hearing for an old woman her age. While I don’t think she’ll ever get back to the weight she was before the illness, at least she’s having no problems eating, drinking and using the litter box like she was ½ year ago. She’s also showing a bit more signs of being rheumy, though that’s not surprising given that the vet said when she last saw her said that she was showing signs of geriatric arthritis. But hey *knocking on wood* she can still jump on/off the bed, couch and my chair for some lap time; so it’s not all that bad yet.

The homestead is amazingly quiet at the moment. My aunt and uncle are currently at the hospital for my uncle’s knee replacement surgery that was scheduled for this morning at 06:30. This is for his other knee and sitting here and looking through my journal, I don’t remember whether he was kept for observation (for possible complications) the first time that he had gone in. Either or, I suspect that it’s going to be quiet around the house for the next couple of weeks as my uncle will be on pain medications and warned that he needs to remain immobile while he’s healing. Good thing too as his slamming doors when coming and going can be more than a bit jarring even when I can hear it through one or two floors… Yes, he doesn’t open and close doors… He slams them, in spite of the fact that they don’t stick even when the wood swells during the spring and autumn. Quiet is good, and I’m looking forward for the next couple of weeks because of this.

Since I’ve installed the Service Pack for Windows 7, the issue that I’ve reported in previous entries has moved from the Boot-Up/Boot-In to the Welcome Screen and is happening at the desktop: a BSOD without the Blue screen. So far in the last week or so, I’ve caught two of them; the first happened shortly after the Service Pack was installed and I was using Chrome and checking out a video on YouTube that a friend had suggested I check. The second was on Friday when I was launching VLC Media Player to check out a partially-downloaded video for a teaser for an upcoming movie. Seems that this BSOD occurs within the first ½ hour of Boot-In from the Welcome Screen and seems to be dependent on what I’m doing for activity with the video card. To make it more frustrating is the fact that it’s intermittent and only seems to be a problem during boot up. Once I get beyond the first ½ hour hump, my system happily functions properly and adequately the entire time.

Now that I’m able to better see the error message that’s happening, I’m able to confirm it to being something with the video card drivers. One of the messages that I had read on the nVidia forum board for the specific error that I had encountered stated that it has something to do with over-clocking… Something I know I didn’t do given that 1. I didn’t install the software for such, and 2. the card was installed with all factory default settings. What I do suspect is given my experience with Windows and their inability to properly uninstall all DLLs, files, and registry settings, one of the programs that I used to diagnose the problem on the previous card might still be in place somewhere and causing a bit of problems — particularly with the installation of the service pack — and I should as a precaution simply perform a reinstallation from scratch to running a clean system once again.

Yeah, I know. It’s been said for some years with Windows XP that reinstalling from scratch is generally unnecessary for most business and many home-users. The thing is though, those of us in the IT field tend to do a lot of installing and uninstalling of programs on their test machines (and like it or not, IT people at home are twice as likely to treat their primary machine as a test machine). Mostly to either do the job required, or researching various problems when necessary. And in spite of many of the tools of the trade at our disposal for installs/uninstalls, more often times than naught legacy DLLs and drivers might still be left in place in the \System directory and more importantly in the Registry that can cause a system to act in an unstable fashion.

Looking at my calendar, I saw that the last time I had performed a Windows reinstall was when I upgraded from the old Dell Machine (running XP Pro) to the Frankenstein that I’m running now (Win 7 Ultimate) back in November 2009. Since then, I’ve made at least 6 changes to hardware, and countless programs that check Kernel, Software efficiency, L2 Cache control, BIOS changes, Network monitoring and Latency, even fan controls for my box, along with various other software features and tweaks since then that can be seen as effecting speed. I’ll probably be doing this reinstallation next month (optimistically) as things should be slow enough and warm enough to perform such a job. Unless the errors really work my nerves, then it’ll be much faster. *grinning*

All right, the issue that I felt like I was ducking out in Entry 601 has caused me to make up my mind rather easily. And this is the story…

On the Saturday that I had written that entry as I had said I wanted a bit of “me time” with this particularly person that I’ve been chatting with from the area for most of the month. Part of the reason was I was finding myself put off not only to the amount of smoking that he does, but the fact that he’s had a drink in his hand every time we’ve ended up on the phone or in Skype (while he was working out the camera that he had purchased).

One day, became two. Then became a week and I was finding myself getting comfortable with the silence and not dealing with him. As things were winding down for the week and weekend was gearing up, I get a text from him basically asking me whether I was free (to talk) and that he had been missing me.

While I don’t remember muttering anything out loud when reading that text, I do remember getting this sort of determined look/grimace as though I knew it was time to make up my mind on all this.

Of course, I didn’t. I took the easy way out of things and decided for one more go with this both to confirm my trepidations and solidify the issues that I was having with this man.

Sure enough he was drinking again, and him saying that he drinks every Friday didn’t help my mood (or my opinion of him) any. Still I plodded on trying to maintain an air of pleasantness and informal banter.

While it was going well (albeit awkward in places), I decided “to hell with it” and chose one of the three New England taboo subjects (family, politics, religion) one shouldn’t bring up during a date: Religion.

In a previous conversation, he had expressed an interest in learning more about Buddha and Buddhism, and wanted to table it until another call. When that other call happened, he wanted to table it again because he hadn’t seen the episode on Nova (or some such PBS show) and wanted to watch it for a refresher.

Then on Friday I brought it up again, he said the same thing… he wanted to table the discussion because he hadn’t seen the episode.

Rolling my eyes to myself, I realized quickly the questions he had wasn’t on the empirical want to understand the philosophy or beliefs of Buddhism, but instead on temple life of a Buddhist Monk.

Uh… I began, Buddhism isn’t like the Roman Catholic Religion to teach a hierarchy for reaching/attaining enlightenment from postulate to monk, to priest to (and on and on and on) ultimately to god/Buddha. It’s an individual path one takes for enlightenment by following in the Buddha’s steps or more importantly in one’s own understanding of enlightenment.

Of which I explained it to him including the necessity for asking the questions that should come to mind for better understanding.

He still wanted to table it, obsessed that it was required he see that episode on Buddhist Monks.

While I sighed to myself and I let it go for the most part, the subject had changed a little from the understanding of philosophy to something more personal on the subject of which I found myself even more frustrated to the point where I found myself fighting the impulse to hanging up on him and calling it a night with him.

One, he kept saying “shut up” to me each and every time I attempted reiterating what my understanding of what he was saying to me (by reiterating it back to him). Not a good way of getting my attention in a discussion or a debate, particularly when I gave him more than extending politeness to allow him to explain himself, and common courtesy dictates I reiterate back to ensure I understand the point the person is trying to make.

Then he would tell me I’m right, but wrong about the situation and when I asked what parts I was wrong explained I wasn’t in the least. Pride and more importantly foolish pride are bad qualities to demonstrate in a discussion with someone you only just met; and cracking jokes in a derisive way during a discussion leaves the party the jokes are being cracked on that any passionate discussions will never be taken seriously.

Then I had warned him that my use of the words like “god”, “soul” (and in some cases during our conversation Soul) and “Universe” are not the same or interchangeable to the way the words are used in New England where Roman Catholic teachings have slanted the words in a specific way. He then claimed spiritual superiority (by saying he was spiritually more advanced than I was), in spite of my acknowledging his perspective and mine were simply different.

I found myself using stern tones during the course of this part of the conversation, particularly when I got fed up with the amount of times he said, “shut up” at me, of interrupting me, and worse changing the subject to points that he was trying to make that had positively nothing to do with the subjects on hand. A maneuver I’m all too familiar with that people use when they feel they are out of their element and wanting to maintain a false sense of intellectual and/or emotional superiority.

The proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back however was the amount of times he brought up his (soon to be ex-) roommate, of which is a story in itself. The thing is, we’ve been speaking to each other both online and on the telephone for about a month to month and a half. In that time he has brought up his plight about his roommate each and every time we’ve chatted on the phone. It’s not a simple dilemma about a leeching roommate that doesn’t pay rent and basically takes advantage of free room and board. It’s the sort of emotionally-sucking discussions that last hours at a time basically covering every possible foible this roommate has and how much it’s ruining his life.

While I applauded him at the beginning of the conversation (Friday night) when he brought up that the problem with his roommate was coming to an end; with a departure date had been set for his roommate to move out of his house by the end of March. He brought the roommate up again later in the conversation (when we were talking about the differences between “soul” and our manifestation on Earth), when he talked about how his roommate’s name is on his Estate Will.

At this point my patience had been worn entirely too thin with the roommate being the majority of our conversation both for this night as well as our conversations on the whole. This wasn’t obsession with a friendship turned badly and while I believed he was telling the truth that their friendship was platonic, I couldn’t help but draw the allegory that the way he talks about his roommate is like he and his roommate are ex-lovers. And no matter how much I tried to draw his attention that this is a comparison, he accused me of calling him a liar.

Disgusted and crestfallen, I had asked whether his roommate was going to be brought up more in the coming month (his roommate was moving out April 1st according to what he told me), and he said probably…

I knew then my mind was made up.

*sighs* Common courtesy (hell, just plain sensibility) dictates that when you meet someone new — particularly someone you want to have a date with — there should only be two things kept in mind during the getting to know you process: 1. put your best foot forward (about you and your life), and 2. chat to find subjects in common.

And yet in the month we’ve been chatting all I’ve heard about is the issues that he’s been having with his roommate. While he did indicate “that’s how caring I am”; the obsessiveness and the veracity for which he talked about the negativities and coupled with the manner that he had dehumanized the roommate (by calling him “dickhead”, bug, and so on) belied just how little compassion the man is capable of.

And so far the only “best foot forward” I’ve been able to get from him has been the amount of money he’s made in various investments and 401Ks, the creature comforts he has in the house he had been bequeathed from his family, his Volvo, and how he would love to have dinner with me just to see if I’d make a scene in a public setting during a discussion. Couple this with the facts that he drinks regularly, smokes a pack a day, and comes off as the most spiritually bankrupt sort of person I’ve ever met.

Definitely not the sort of thing I find appealing even as a casual friend. And a date? No way in hell at this rate. It smacks too much of the issues I was facing at the end of my relationship with Rick without the physical abuse.

So I know what I have ahead of me; a polite Dear John to wish him the best in finding whatever it is that he’s looking for. Really, I don’t need that sort of stress in my life even casually. Well, that’s about it for the time being… Off to have supper and do a little play-time. Until the next time.

Entry 01/08/2011 12:56:44 PM – Mentat 594

Well, I certainly had an interesting start to this morning. My cat apparently was having a nostalgic moment while we were laying in bed and seeing as she was hungry and wanted food, she decided on putting a very wet and cold nose into my exposed ear, purring loudly to get my attention. To make matters worse is that now that she’s over a decade old, she also drools so as she’s getting up to my ear to do this, she’s also drooling all over my face and cheek. Heh, certainly not the sort of way I want to wake up in the morning (apart from my own occasional drooling which can be quite the eye-rolling experience as well). Then as I had her happily fed, and checking e-mail, see I got a note from someone I had bestowed a Jester Award for an outstandingly humorous profile; asking familiar questions I’ve been getting since I’ve been part of this particular dating site —

• Have you had any success with this site?
• Is anyone using this site real?

Then after shaving, dressing and getting my business while chatting with Glenn about bric-a-brac, I start my morning coffee and then get distracted talking with my aunt about someone she was seeing on television (Henry Fonda in Fort Apache), I come back into the apartment to first hear my coffee maker making entirely too much noise, and then seeing that it’s bubbling from the water the rear of it and spilling all over the counter it’s resting on.

For only a split second I was thinking, oh god, there’s going to be no coffee this morning.

Though I got over that pretty quickly when I remembered that in the pantry closet, I have a 12-cup coffee maker in there as back up (and in case I have guests over, which is rare but I’m prepared for it nonetheless). Turns out the feed tube from the water-heater (at the bottom of the unit) to the coffee basket had become dislodged so all heated water was ending up back in the water tank and bubbling up like a volcano. With a little handiwork and a little manly pressure, the coffee maker was back brewing right as rain without a problem.

Crisis averted! Life as we know it can breathe a sigh of relief!

Good thing too, as I didn’t want to have to clean out the bigger coffee maker and prep a new basket of grounds for only 4 cups in a 12-cup pot. That would’ve been more than a little annoying.

Now that I’ve had my morning coffee, the cat’s fallen asleep at my feet and is quietly snoring, the house has a quiet about it at the moment as my aunt’s finished doing her housecleaning and my uncle’s probably passed out while watching John Wayne on AMC, I have a hodgepodge of thoughts and what not about the whole of dating, attraction, love (and unrequited love), and a slew of other half-thoughts and feelings going on the last couple of weeks. Not sure how I’m going to tie it all together, and chances are I’m going to find myself skipping all over the place while writing this. So — those of you that like to voyeur my journals — consider this your warning.

On the lighter side of this, I’m rather surprised to be receiving another note from someone on this dating site asking me whether I’ve had any success using it, and asking me whether the people there using it were real in any sense of the word. Some months ago when I started using it, I recall chatting with someone about it, as I found myself rather amazed at the veracity he had shown in changing pictures and profile information in order to get attention. I had marked him for follow and chatted with him a bit about this, and he told me that he had no luck at all with the site whatsoever. Seems that out of the 5 people he had chatted with, 2 ended up being dates from hell and the other three simply stopped chatting with him prior to setting up a date. After about a month and a half of my following him and watching his pictures change, he stopped. A week after that he deleted his profile — apparently completely giving up on it.

Another man I had casually chatted with told me the same thing, although with this man he had only one date and it went so badly he couldn’t get out of the restaurant fast enough.

Then there was my two attempts. The first never wrote me back. The second was going really well, but when I admitted to my not driving (as he lived in the middle of Connecticut that would definitely pose a problem only 9 hours of riding a Greyhound Bus to that city could remedy), he simply stopped writing me. Never heard from that one again. Chances are once he fully obtained my name, he did a little research and probably ended up finding my Deviant Art account, WordPress and maybe even my Flickr account of which can drive off gay men because of the fear of a blog outing them in a world they have no control over (really, it’s the 21st century. If people haven’t figured out by now you’re gay — you’re either lying pathologically, or self-deluded to think you’re that chameleon-like).

Though as I said to this gentleman that lives in a difficult place to get to without public transportation, I admitted to him that I haven’t really tried as hard as I could. And in a way, it’s true; I’ve been extremely casual about who I’ve written and who I’ve found attractive enough to want to drop a note to. Part of the reason why has been because honestly, like the man that dropped me the note this morning had said — “…I personally know some of the people on here and their profile does not match them in real life…”

In a way it’s had me thinking about it, though after him saying this it has helped me form a better way of putting to words what I’ve been thinking. Sure, I understand that people try to put their best foot forward when it comes to getting a date (be it face-to-face or on a dating site) and too often that best foot forward can be more than a simple embellishment in order to impress a potential date/suitor. Hell, I understand this — I’ve done it in the past. Though, what I’ve seen on many of these profiles are bald-faced and often egregious lies. For example, saying one is making $100K+ in an area of the United States who’s average annual income is $35K – $60K… Well, that’s basically going to start the downward spiral of doubt and mistrust of any other information provided within the profile. Really, we can’t all be making $100,000+, have 8″ penises, travel a every month, be “laid back” and “drama free”… And yet why must more and more men looking for a date (online and off) propagate such a deceptive vision of one-self? You’re going to get caught, and when that happens, you really can’t cry about the failure of a dating site when you failed to be honest to begin with. Admittedly as I said to Glenn (and a bit indirectly to the man that I responded to), it becomes extremely off-putting when you can spot multiple lies in a profile.

To make matters worse, with the exclusion of a precious few people that I’ve chatted with around here (the area) — New Englanders are just plain crass, rude and extremely impatient. I know I have my moments when it comes to being exactly like every Yankee I’ve ever encountered, but at the same time when I’m calm and when I’m emotionally balanced I generally attempt to practice manners and etiquette. Some of the things that I’ve seen come out of New Englanders mouths, and off of the tips of their fingers in a note/e-mail are generally the sort of thing that would get you shunned if you said that in the south and ignored in the west. I should know, I learned this when I lived in Atlanta and Seattle (and probably why I learned manners the hard way).

[Last Edited: 01/08/2011 07:15:06 PM]

The other thought that I had is a sort of rehash of an issue that I’ve visited time and again the last year that felt the need to be reiterated one more time. The fact of the matter is when a man reaches middle age, there comes with it some pretty heavy baggage. Let’s face it, it’s not any easier being a gay man reaching middle age given the various horrors life visits upon us for being different and the various horrors we visit upon ourselves because of the abuses collected in our lives. Given what’s happened in my life the last two decades — I have collected a hell of a lot of emotional and mental baggage along the way that routinely has a way of haunting me in various ways when dealing with others. From trust issues, to outright cynicism, to the occasional delusion that my simple presence can make a difference in someone’s life, to even the thought that love is enough to change a person.

And those trust issues are frequently visited whenever I begin dealing with a middle-aged man that continues to demonstrate the sex-only mentality of 30 years ago with penis pictures for profile avatars, fake pictures that have been recycled and reused so much that you can see the compression distortion in the bigger version of the picture, and hitting on me as though being sexual is being sexy in spite of the fact my profile doesn’t read anything for people looking for casual encounters/sex.

Honestly, there’s something to be said about those younger than me. While there are some that picked up the sex first approach to relationships, the stifling power of political correctness makes sure that in a public/semi-public setting — such attitudes are kept to a minimum. Either that or I’ve simply been lucky in that those that are younger than me simply don’t find me sexually appealing/attractive enough to want to flirt with me. Either or, it’s a nice way of getting to knowing another human being without the implied undertones of sex being involved as routinely as they are when talking to someone closer to my age.

Though this sort of segues into my next issue that has sort of developed over the last couple of weeks — an issue of unrequited love for a friend. Though even printing that out, it’s even more complex than what I’m trying to say. Sure, there are elements of attraction in there, though there’s also the altruistic love of a best friend as well. It’s this strange sort of balance between wishing to be intimate with this friend, as well as enjoying the fact that I cannot be intimate with this friend because of his own obligations and attractions, and even the occasional frustration of wanting to smack him upside the head and tell him he needs to stop holding everything in the way that he does.

It most probably because I’m feeling lonely at the moment now that I’ve gotten through the holidays relatively unscathed and he’s been nice to me and I’m misinterpreting it like I usually do. Post holiday blues tend to do that to me, particularly given the people I know are usually off with their boyfriends/girlfriends/partners/husbands/wives and I’m usually wishing for those sort of quiet moments that I used to have back in the 90s with Darin.

Well, I think I’ve pretty much covered what it was that I wanted to for the time being. Tomorrow while I’m doing laundry I think that I’ll work a bit on getting some of my profiles updated a bit. Went looking at one and didn’t realize just how dated it was. So I have something to do.

Until the next time then.

Entry 10/17/2010 01:40:42 PM – Mentat 585

I went to bed entirely too early last night and ended waking up sometime in the middle of the night after realizing that I had been snoring loudly (enough to wake the dead), drooling into my pillow like an invalid and having a cat prodding at me because she was hungry and too slack-assed to head to the food bowl on her own. Not too bad a thing really — I only stayed up a couple of hours before I passed out for the remainder of the night and getting an almost full night’s sleep in two really long naps. Waking up in the morning, I realized that the mood that I woke up into was a sort of rampage of various good old-fashioned rants. One of them a sort of left-over from what I was doing to pass the time and calm my mind enough to fall back to sleep. The other is a sort has been the one that I’ve been mulling over and completely avoiding for the last several or so journal entries that I always think I’m going to sit down and address the issues, and end up completely leaving alone because most attempts come off sounding more like a whinge, and less of valid issues.

So be prepared, this is probably going to be a mixture of rant and whinge. I had woken up this morning in a sort of rampage; and thought it high time that I approach everything with a “I couldn’t care less” attitude because I realize it needs to get the hell out if I’m going to deal with moving on from it.

First off, I’m really not liking WordPress all that much at the moment. Last night while I was biding my time until my over-active mind finally calmed down enough to lay back down and pass out, I remember heading over there to see if I couldn’t find a journal entry or two to read. Nothing too heavy reading, just the sort of thing of someone else putting together the puzzle pieces of their lives and either finding success — or failure — in the attempt. What I ended up seeing from the front page were nothing more than journalist and journalist wannabes talking about today’s or yesterday’s news, reviews of restaurants and what sort of eating out someone should do to maintain their girlish (or manly) figures, tech reviews and assorted spyware reports up the ass and generally the short of shit that I could get from reading Slashdot,  Boing Boing or Engadget.

One of the first articles that I clicked on, while being poignant about bullying and harassment of queerfolk that’s hit the media was actually tagged left, right and center from CNN. CNN?? Really? Like CNN’s monstrosity of a news site isn’t enough, it has to have its journalism choking up another site as well? The next was a fellow Spaces User that had made their way to WordPress because of the site shutting that portion down. What was his article about? Windows 1.0 which had YouTube embedded video that Slashdot had talked about and linked back in September. Blah, old news is old for a reason and the fact that I remember the embedded video only brought up more ire toward anyone trying to be wannabe journalist in a blog setting.

I tried out (a little bit but not until later in the morning) the cloud (which is a listing of words based on personal tags) and while this lead me to where I wanted to be — looking at personal blogs — you have to be careful about which tag you choose to get to them. Some of them end up going to just another regurgitation of the front page of featured articles which are journalistic or journalistic-wannabes. Personal is one such word that brought up my ire in the middle of the night finding myself not wanting to read “featured” articles which to me are entirely too impersonal for my taste.

I think that LiveJournal has the right idea when it comes to a personal blog-site/blogsphere, though one of the biggest problems that I had with that site was the overwhelming angst of young teenagers crying about the tyranny of their parents or worse — the social stigmas that have been around for centuries. I don’t think I’ll see the same on WordPress from adults, although I do have a better understanding of why people like using WordPress’ software for their own personal websites — to escape the glut of a site stifled with what feels like informational advertising, and journalistic whoring.

I’ll try to putter around the site some more, and see if I can’t find some journals/blogs from people instead of people trying to be journalists. Particularly given my extremely strong opinion that amateur journalists and journalist wannabes don’t do any sort of fact-checking and really should — for the sake of journalism if anything. If not, then it’ll serve just as MSN Spaces did — the site for being the oldest online journal site that I have out there…

==================================================================

As for the other tirade… God this one’s been the ongoing and long-time coming one. One that I’m not sure whether it’s just me sick and tired of the games of dating, or whether it’s honest to god legitimate. Either or, here it comes… Ready or not…

I don’t know what to make of the profiles that I read of single gay men online. For every piece that comes off truthful, there are times when the lies or blatantly egregious self-promotion turns an otherwise interest to drop that person a note to finding myself completely put off. Sometimes I think I’m simply being too picky… Other times, I feel as though I’m justified in my disgust and cynicism. I mean — here are some good examples of what I face in this attempt to finding someone interesting enough to date…

The tagline on one site that I use is “Yes, I shall go down in history as the man who opened a door!”- Ever After

I got a response from someone telling me it’s his favorite movie and that he saw it the other night… His nickname: ricocksucker4u. It’s a picture of an erect penis (I can only assume it’s his, but it’s what I call a headless horseman picture) that he’s holding. His profile is all about various sexual actions that he’d like to do with someone.

Yeah, *thumbs up* that sort of profile just makes me want to strike up a conversation with a man holding his penis about romance or critiquing a romantic story.

On another site I have the following as the first thing you read when you get to the profile: Be *IN* the USA only. All others will be marked spam. I go on to explain that I’m looking for someone that’s not separated by oceans to call a boyfriend.

I get responses from folk in the Philippines, Ghana and China asking to be my boyfriend.

Really? I know that English might not be one’s primary language, but even those that respond in broken English seem to have a basic understanding of what they’re saying in responses to me. For giggles I did respond to a few of them asking if they had problems reading that line and all of them apologized for not reading it. Which means, of course, they were looking at the pictures and not reading anything at all.

Then again, this shouldn’t be surprising really given that on yet another chat site, I’ve been positively flooded and inundated with friend requests and “you’re hot” tags from folk from the Orient. I guess the great firewall of China’s come down on some sections of these sort of sites.

[Last Edited: 10/17/2010 06:44:44 PM]

Okay, I walked away for a bit… had supper, got the cat fed and generally got all sort of ire going for different reasons. Wanted to borrow Avatar from my aunt so that I could get some good old fashioned vitriol going in tomorrow when I’m sitting there getting caught up with reading and it turns out that the woman completely decimated the box for it. Then looking through the DVD box, the DVD is completely missing.

Then my aunt insists to check my uncle’s portable DVD player, which he’s been using to watch the movies he’s asked to borrow to check out. I tell her it most certainly won’t be in there given how deeply into the cabinet that Avatar was and how recent my uncle’s movie watching has been. She insisted only to see that my movie My Neighbor Totoro queued up.

And then my aunt wonders why I cringe hardcore whenever they want to borrow any of my movies.

But I digress…

So the on-going rant that I have is the whole online dating scene, which I walked away from because frankly I find myself just plain cynical about it. Oh, I know! Here’s another beauty…

On one several of the sites they have the ability to see who came to visit your profile. I was watching this 50-something that had checked my profile out several times over the course of a couple of weeks that has in his username the city I’m currently living in. Not too bad, I thought. I wouldn’t turn in down outright. Checked out the rest of his profile and it was completely blank. Not very inspiring for me to find something in common to check out, so I pretty much left it to his discretion whether or not he would stare at me some more before I approached him about that routine checking.

Next day he asks whether I’m from the same city he’s in and would I like to go out for coffee.

I responded politely asking for a day and time of his convenience.

Nothing… A month later and he’s not responded.

Well all righty. Check-check with the manners there. Moving along from that now.

*sighs* I think as I’m sitting here thinking about it — I’m just tired of the game some men play to snag a boyfriend. The lies, the half-truths, the insincerity behind the things that they say about themselves: either because they don’t want to appear well; average. Or the outright fabrications to build themselves up to more than they actually are. That and the fact that a majority of the profiles I’ve read through are so… cookie cutter. Their likes and dislikes are so mainstream as to feel they were chosen because they don’t want to come off as too oddball to be un-datable.

Take for example the man that said that one of his fears was for cats. I had asked him about it as I’m naturally curious of anyone that would have a fear of felines. It wasn’t the first time I’ve seen it, but opportunity being the mother of invention, I decided to enact upon it to find out what the cause of that fear was. He explained succinctly enough that I could comprehend and empathize with his fear (as it does touch upon the primal fears of our racial history). It was the way that he had described it though that I found myself facepalming through the re-reading of his note.

It came off as though he were hyper-concerned that it would his wording would be interpreted as being effeminate.

I can say this much though — I didn’t once think him the least bit effeminate. What I did consider after re-reading his note a third time was that he was incredibly high-maintenance; given he had at least five different phobias and stressed at least eight times how much of a man’s-man he was.

It leaves me wondering… At middle-age do we men become so self-conscious of our image, we over-exaggerate our actions to prevent that image from being misinterpreted? Do we become that egotistically frail that we no longer see ourselves the way we did when we were in our 20s that it’s a constant effort to maintain some bloated or otherwise virile self-image when we reach our 40s?

It makes me wonder how I missed out on that insanity.. Heh, at least it makes me thankful I missed out on it.

Well that’s about it for the time being. I could go on, but I have other things to think about and do. I might revisit this a bit more. I might not. Until the next time.