OT: Men mean well sometimes.

So, this morning... my male coworker notices that I have a birthday coming up and guesses my age.

His first guess? 2 years older than what I really am. :mad: I am 33 going on 34... he guessed 36. THEN he tried to guess lower after I was appauled, but the damage was done... so I refused to give my age.


THEN... I bring it up to my boyfriend... and comment how I need to be able to afford botox to fix all the damn wrinkles on my forehead.

What does he say? "Well, you are trying to workout and lose weight, that should help."

I let him know that losing weight will NOT help the wrinkles on my face... in fact... that will make them look WORSE! DUH!

Then he asks what can I do to fix the problem. I stated other than botox or a forhead lift... nothing. Then he finally shuts up.


Men mean well sometimes... but dang... they can be so dense.

I am 54.. I have a couple free things you could try to look younger.
Throw your shoulders back when you walk. Look in the mirror; stick your chest out a little and really make sure your shoulders are back. I have noticed a lot of bikers have bad posture.
Put a spring in your step.
The wrinkles i have (and believe me, girl, i have 'em) i feel like i earned them.
What counts to me is that I can ride a bike up a hill with the 20 year olds. Okay, i might not be as fast as they are, but I can then compare myself to most women my age, and I look YOUNG!

Seriously, some mornings my 46 year old face looks pretty worn... big old allergy shadows, funky wrinkles... I just am not inclined to resort to makeup, much less invading my essentially functional body with anytyhing like botox!
... what works is to SMILE. The wrinkles arrange themselves differently, the shadows and bulges get shoved around, and ... well, I'm smiling. I've worked on it - there are lots of different kinds of smiles using lots of different kinds of muscles. I *think* the one that's almost my default face now isn't too muich like a Cheshire cat - when I"m in front of the mirror it's more a slight upward tug from the corners, trying to leave my teeth covered ('cause I can do a pretty good mule, too :rolleyes: ).
Of course, it also helps that I have not bought into the idea that age is a bad thing.
YOu've got a good self - wear it PROUDLY!!!
I'm feeling a little sympathy for the man... Men like problems they can do something about and don't see the value in even bringing up things just to *talk* about 'em :-) Heavens, if a hammer won't fix it, forget it!

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Originally Posted by KSH

Men mean well sometimes... but dang... they can be so dense.

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And sometimes we set them up to fail...miserably, and we are the ones who end up getting hurt. The best way to avoid that is to 1) not give a damn what they think, or 2) don't set them up to say things that we are sensitive about.

You have the power...now go have a nice bike ride, okay? You are strong and beautiful!

This is true ... "Honey, does this make my butt look fat?"
(I like "does this bike make my butt look fast?" much better...)

Exactly what geonz and tulip said. Do not discuss these things with guys. They don't speak this language well.

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Originally Posted by Geonz

"does this bike make my butt look fast?"

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YOU JUST MADE MY DAY!!!!

the in-laws are in town and my precious bubbled-butt-poochied-tummy husband has been "GIDDY"...yes you heard correctly...giddy!
men are interesting creatures who never seem to amaze me...you sound like you were able to hear beyond his words and know he only meant to say something to try and make you feel better but just did not know how to spit it out...sometimes i am accused as being too forgiving of what he says but for anyone to put up with my moods (and ladies they are not pretty) and mind you i am not shakespear with words either...

anyway...

This makes me think of a study when men were asked to guess the # of calories in a serving of food. They made insanely wrong wild guesses. They didn't have any idea what the numbers meant, because it wasn't important to them! So...KSH...try not to take it too personally. Ask him how many calories there are in an apple :p Although I doubt that particular guy will be offering you any numbers any time soon.

Happy (almost) birthdy, btw. L.

One thing I learned from men (one in particular who always speaks his mind) is never tell a man a problem if you don't want him to try to solve it - cuz that's what they are programmed to do.

As women, we tend to verbalize issues, not necessarily looking for solutions - just to vent. Men totally do not get this concept....ok, most men (I'd hate to get in trouble for painting with a broad brush stroke).

Yeah, it really reduces the amount of conversation between me and hubby... LOL

I've learned that if you wear a push up bra the guys won't even notice a wrinkle or two on your face!;)

Well, thanks for all the positive comments. I do appreciate it.

Trust me... I'm not THAT upset about it. I'm really an easy going gal who lets a man get away with a lot (not cheating, but you know what I mean)... I don't typically get irked at the small stuff.

And, I didn't ASK for my age to be guessed. I stopped that a long time ago. Either 1) they guess really low to compliment you... or 2) guess your age... either way, it's not good. So, I don't bring my age up.

I know they mean well. It's from a good spot... I know that. I just though it was funny how my boyfriend thought working out/losing weight (HA! like that is going to happen!) would fix my wrinkles somehow?

Of course, this is coming from a 28 year old man (yes, he's 5 years younger than me- but he acts like he's 40).

Oh well... men will be men. And if it's the worse thing I have to complain about... with my man... then it's not that bad.

BF once told me "Well, you're no beauty queen." French ex BF told me my experiment with thong underwear made me look like a Sumo wrestler. Oh, he's also the one that told me I smell like tuna (after eating it) and couldn't understand why that was offensive. And then started calling me his Big Tuna. And when I didn't like being called a big anything, then started calling me his Little Feather, but in a sort of sarcastic way. I haven't had a complimentary BF in a long time...

Edited: it was beauty queen, not fashion model.

KSH,
I think your boyfriend meant you would look younger by firming up and stuff; he probably didn't think it would actually change your wrinkles.

and the guy who misjudged your age probably didn't even notice your wrinkles.. A lot of people (myself included) are pretty bad at guessing age.
So I do what a lot of folks do; i figure out how old someone is and then subtract 10 years so if they ask i will at least seem complementary; but i have NO IDEA!
even with little kids!

OK, I had a girlfriend who called me "Rodent Eyes". She seemed to think this was cute. And this was early in the relationship, not later on, when you snipe at each other! Rodent Eyes! I ask you! :rolleyes:

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Originally Posted by Nanci

BF once told me "Well, you're no fashion model." French ex BF told me my experiment with thong underwear made me look like a Sumo wrestler. Oh, he's also the one that told me I smell like tuna (after eating it) and couldn't understand why that was offensive. And then started calling me his Big Tuna. And when I didn't like being called a big anything, then started calling me his Little Feather, but in a sort of sarcastic way. I haven't had a complimentary BF in a long time...

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A friend of mine had a boyfriend who called her a literal "pet name"... walrus. Walrusy walrus. My cute little walrus. Hey walrus! I love you walrus. Not joking. She's not a small girl, but... walrus? What an odd choice.

We were seniors in high school, and he had graduated 1-2 years ahead of us. When we went to prom, he went with her, and she wore this pink chiffon kind of dress (she's a girly girl). At dinner, when the waitress came to take our order, he said "she'll have the all you can eat trough" (he had been referring to her dress as "like Miss Piggy's dress" all night).

She was with him for several years, must have been 4 or 5 total. Afterward, she went on a rant one night about him, and it ended with "I can't believe I let someone call me WALRUS!!!" ;)

Back on topic (how can you go off topic in an off topic thread anyway?): I could hear myself having the same conversation with my husband. Sometimes just to keep them talking, instead of "uhh... no" I'll say something like "well that's possible, but I don't think so, wouldn't that just...?" to keep asking them questions so they think they are solving problems which is what their brains always want to do. :)

Walrus? Rodent eyes?
I am SO lucky.

A long time ago my husband called me something because he thought i liked it.
It was really dumb. okay; you guys are all being honest..

he called me his pumpkin pie!
I said
"Why did you call me that?"

he said "I thought you liked it"
well, yes, i like pumpkin pie.....

i agree. significant others! sheesh. sometimes you gotta wonder what's really going on in their head.

bf will respond to questions they way he isn't suppose to, and i know he's joking (he better be joking) but i tell him thats not what a good bf would say. i know what he means, i don't ask him how stuff looks unless i expect a smart a$$ response.

OK... here's something kinda twee, but I thought it was a really nice take on wrinkles...

It was one of "those" emails that clog your inbox and seem to come back every 8-10 months...

It was the first time I have seen this one... but no doubt it will arrive again.

Here's the bit I liked...

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn grey, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face.

Isn't that a great way to think about wrinkles - its so true - all my happy times and memories - right there on my face for everyone to see how lucky and blessed I have been!

I'll paste it in its entirity below...




Old age, I decided, is a gift.

I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body ... the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt.

And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don't agonize over those things for long.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend.

I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to overeat, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4am., and sleep till nonn?

I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60's and 70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love... I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten . and I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn grey, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. I can say "no", and mean it. I can say "yes", and mean it.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free.

I like the person I have become.

I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day.

(I forgot what I was going to say!!)

Oh, my mom and dad's term of endearment for anything was Punkin Pie. I even call Dillbird Punkin Pie Bird once in a while. Kind of like Sweetie Pie. Or Cutie Pie.

Significant Others are... interesting.

My exdh once told me I had 'ghetto booty' and meant it in a "I like your butt and hips" way. I took it in the "you have a bubble butt" way. Tell me, please, how at a sickish 108#, I could POSSIBLY have ghetto booty. The only body fat I'd managed to RETAIN was on my butt and hips.... and it looked oddly out of place on my stringbean frame. =P

He also decided to be sweet and buy me a bra once- one of those lacy numbers, despite the fact that I either went 'free-range' or in a sports bra. I attempt to put this bra on, and I left maybe an inch of empty saggy in it. I look at the size (I'm not going to SAY what size it was here...) :o and said "Hunny...? Why did you get a _insert size here__? I'm a ____."
His answer- honestly!- "Oh. Hm. Wishful thinking, I guess."
(hands on butt and looking deeply into my eyes) "If you had bigger boobs, your butt would make a little more sense." ... how utterly romantic.:rolleyes:

ARGH.

My gf on the other hand...
...Venting becomes reverse-venting, which can lead to weird statements that aren't really positive, either... though they're meant to be.

"God, I hate my butt. I wish the butt of my jeans was baggy like yours" ...in reference to the fact that I honestly don't 'curve' into my jeans- and she wears hers like a **** model, and I had complained to her.

I get my hair cut in beautiful red spikes. I love my spikes. I think they're hot. GF on the other hand, is a pretty delicate, feminine girl, and thinks they look too... uh... well... yeah. So she insists on having a 'say' in how I get my hair cut. (I've managed to thus far circumvent her input) EVERY TIME I get my hair cut, though... "OMG! YOU DID IT AGAIN!" or "ARGH!" Except this time. This time she said "Oh! You look like a girl this time!" :eek: Are you kidding me?! I didn't even change anything.

I'm sure she'd have some wonders of silver-tongued eloquence from me... but fortunately, she's not on the forum!:p

Quote:

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Originally Posted by salsabike

Exactly what geonz and tulip said. Do not discuss these things with guys. They don't speak this language well.

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I must agree as well. You are only 33, you are young. I turned 37 in June.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Kitsune06

"If you had bigger boobs, your butt would make a little more sense." ... how utterly romantic.:rolleyes:

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OMG I just choked on my coffee.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by RoadRaven

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn grey, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face.

Isn't that a great way to think about wrinkles - its so true - all my happy times and memories - right there on my face for everyone to see how lucky and blessed I have been!

I'll paste it in its entirity below...




Old age, I decided, is a gift.

I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body ... the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt.

And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don't agonize over those things for long.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend.

I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to overeat, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4am., and sleep till nonn?

I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60's and 70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love... I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten . and I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn grey, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. I can say "no", and mean it. I can say "yes", and mean it.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free.

I like the person I have become.

I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day.

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I like this! I find I become more content/happy with who I am as each year passes.

This thread is turning out to be hilarious.

Here's how I learned my lesson. Or one time, anyway (I'm a slower learner than that): I asked my then BF, now spouse, how attractive he thought we each were on a scale of 1 to 10 (don't ask me why. This was, like, YEARS ago when my relative stupidity and intelligence balance was very much in favor of the former). He said he was maybe a 5 and I was a 6. I was SO mad at him. My feelings were hurt for days and days and days. What a dork I was. That is such a "butt look big?" kind of question. Poor guy.

W.B. Yeats touches my heart with these lines

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
and loved your beauty with love false or true,
but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you
and loved the sorrows of your changing face,

As Spokewench mentioned doesn't hurt to have a good push up bra handy as well.:D :D