Kate... uncensored.

Random - DC version

Just finished - The Average American Male - Chad Kultgen. Interesting book, but not as amusing as I would have hoped. However, it does leave me wondering if my line of thinking is more male than female at times. Should this concern me?

This hotel is not conducive to prowling. Nevermind the fact that the hotel is mostly full of people with disabilities (ducking from criticism now) there is no good place to lurk. The staff won't let a girl just hang out with a drink in the sports bar, and with three bars to pick from, my pools of candidates are too spread out. On the bright side, the possibilities for entertainment are endless. Just outside the lobby doors is a throng of people smoking and 2 drunk men in wheelchairs are showing off their "stunts". I think others are trying for a conference fuck as well.

Supposed to be meeting husband and his former colleagues for lunch in swanky DC executive lounge tomorrow. I don't like being introduced as his wife right now. I feel phony for acting like our life/marriage is fine for the sake of others, even though I'm accustomed to doing so. 

Got the chance to rip into someone today regarding taking the guide dog somewhere. It's nice to have someone acknowledge that their company was wrong and actually seem genuine about it.

Hotel TV choices suck - not even 20 channels. The price of the room is high enough to warrant a few more, but at least I can watch Oceans Thirteen and dream about a George Clooney, Brad Pitt et al. gangbang. Oops, did I type that?

Gotta answer the door - room service has arrived.

A short vent

So far, this trip has been a disaster.

Multiple issues with the airport, airline, shuttle yesterday. Finally got to the hotel, looking to relax and unwind, only to have a former colleague of my husband's barge in, inviting himself to spend the rest of the evening in our room.

This morning we've run into a poorly organized conference, and I was forced to wait around playing sighted guide. I am planning on spending the rest of my afternoon showered and naked and hidden in my hotel room.

Aargh!

Letter to bad drunk parents

My husband likes to watch the news, I don't. He makes me aware of these stories.

Dear people who've left their children in hot cars this summer while they travel to one (or more) bars...

Can you not go to the liquor store to buy your booze and then drink at home? At least then your child wouldn't cook to death in a car while you were drinking.

Signed,
bitter childless woman (one who'd make a much better parent than you)

Awake at four in the morning

It's a weird time to be awake. Whenever I don't sleep, I find myself thinking too much. Shocking, I know.

It's hard to be married and lonely, but it's common. Perhaps we have all these unrealistic expectations when we get married. I tried not to have them, I honestly didn't think he'd be "the be all and end all". I knew that happily ever after is a nice idea, but that most people aren't able to have that. I recognized that it was unhealthy to expect this other person to be completely responsible for our happiness. It's unreasonable to think that because we love this person and choose to spend our life with them that we will never be lonely again. That we will always feel loved, safe and satisfied.

Side note: there are people who are married and lonely for much better reasons. Perhaps they never get the chance to spend time with their spouse because of work obligations, military duty, or something else along those lines. I feel for them.

My husband thinks we wouldn't be at the crossroad we're at if we hadn't moved here. I know we're both lonelier here, more isolated from the support system we grew to rely on. I also know this was inevitable, and think the difference is only in how it would play out.

I know he must be lonely. He won't talk to me. He prefers his privacy so much that it's hard for him to turn to his friends. He's had some for 20, even thirty years, but cannot fathom talking about his marriage with them. He tried to talk to one and it caused the fiasco last week. I can imagine this has only perpetuated the idea that he should keep things to himself. He doesn't talk to his family either, because they were raised to keep it all in. My running joke was that they sweep it all under the rug until you fucking trip over the bump it causes.

I see how he withdraws, pulls into his shell. How he shuts down, but I can't save him from himself. I try to get him to work with me. To either make this work or end it gracefully. Depending on my mood and his response, my preference for one of the other changes. 

I am not looking forward to this weekend. More time alone together cannot be a good thing, we still both seem so raw, so hurt.

A rambling update.

Tuesday, I left for New York. Had packed some things and decided this was a needed trip. To investigate what's in Buffalo, if I head back there. To decide finally, what's ahead of me. Tuesday night I got in and after a short chat with the friends I was staying with, I headed to bed.

Wednesday started off on a sour note. Friends' baby threw up on my outfit. So, I got re-dressed. I had a doctor's appointment and some blood work before my job interview. The doctor I saw was not my usual, and regarded my questions as unnecessary. After asking questions unrelated to my case, and me tearing up, I headed out of there with my paperwork for the labs. Hit the Quest laboratory in Amherst and ran across the most unprofessional phlebotomist I have ever had the chance to meet.

Next, the interview. Had to meet with four individuals, one of whom was a physician. He and I had a personality conflict from the get go. We were having a language barrier problem and it went downhill from there. It started when he told his assistant he would get me when he was ready for me. (Translation: if she waits for 30 mins while I play on my iPhone, so what?) Really, his attitude towards his current staff had the hair on my neck standing up. I did my best to seem polite and professional, but he was unimpressed with me at all turns, especially once he heard I took the MCAT and then didn't go to medical school.

So, interview over, I head back to friend's house. I then learn a friend of my husband's has called my parents about MY marriage. Livid does not begin to describe it. They were not aware I was even in town, because I wanted the chance to think without having to hear everyone's opinion. I had intended on calling them Thursday, once my apartment viewings, my appointments and my interview were over. He left a message, without his number and my mother called me to find out what he wanted. I did not answer my phone, I didn't hear it ring. I hear of this and call my husband to see why his friend felt the need to intervene. I then call friend and leave a message asking him to please cease and desist. Numerous phone calls, messages, curse words and tears later, I go to bed at 3:30.

While I should have spent my Thursday seeing apartments, networking for other interviews and thinking, I continued to have life altering conversations with my husband, and then his friend. Then, my parents call, before I have the chance to call them. Husband's friend called them back until he got them in person. They then called me. Fun, wow. So, Thursday turned into another useless day, full of phone calls and fumbling explanations.

I headed to their home Friday morning, so they could continue their attack in person. I was supposed to go straight home, they said. But I could not fathom spending my day in the car after the conversations with them and the Husband.

So I left Saturday, and hit traffic and accidents. Got in late Sat/Early Sunday. Woke up at 11 am only to have more talking start. Husband didn't let me go to bed until about midnight. I'm glad he's at work today, because I cannot handle anymore talking. I barely have any voice even.

Today I've been calling counselors. Interesting to note that I don't seem to find a lot in the area. The Western NY area probably has 10 times as many. I'm hoping to find someone who will see us this week because I'm not sure we'll make it much longer without collateral damage.

Random remarks, bordering on whining

Dad called tonight. Someone I graduated with gave the commencement speech tonight at my former high school's graduation ceremony. That was all I got from my father's message - I didn't feel like calling him back. Was peeved that no one asked me. Then I remembered - the business I recently sold wasn't like Google or something, and I'm much more important in my own mind. Blushing then, I decided to stop.

Looking for jobs and apartments in both areas sucks. I would like to be independently wealthy. I would totally put my money to good use, helping those I care about and those I don't know.  I'd want to do it quietly too. Hard to believe, thanks to the above statement, but I'm not all about self-promotion.

I don't understand my husband's ability to move from conversation to casual talking. I can have a touch of the dramatic in me. Shocking, I know. But, I feel going from "Leaving is up to you" to "Do we have fluff?" is just awkward.

Now I'm hungry - and there's nothing in the house. I desperately need to grocery shop. I miss going out to breakfast at home this late at the 24 hour diners; or hitting the bar/restaurant around the corner from my old place. There's not a lot of that near me, that I'm aware of. Plus, you didn't feel bad hitting the one place for food at 12 or 1 because you knew they were still open another 4 hours or so. Ah, Buffalo bar hours...

I laid in bed at 7 this evening, shortly after he got home because I thought that might help me avoid more talking. I've been talking in circles, and avoiding the one thing that's hardest to say. Instead I killed 3+ hours of my night. Aargh. I actually fell asleep too, which further fucks my already fucked up sleeping schedule.

Speaking of fuck, why did I give in last weekend? Yeah, I know why. Regardless, now I'm back to clawing the walls. Not helping the situation.

Trying to block those thoughts... will instead think about the dog's grooming appt. in the morning. Will think of maybe going to dinner by myself tomorrow while my husband attends some blind people night out thing. Yes, I know, I am a horrible person. What you don't know is that upon marrying someone blind, you have the right to snicker at these activities. It's in the "spouse of a blind person" handbook.

Which totally reminds me that my book will be titled "Love is blind... and so is my husband"

List of complaints

All the eating out, weird routine change meal wise has me feeling a little sick. My stomach needs to recover.

I was glad they visited, but having them here made me more homesick.

I feel bad that my parents and my sister came to blows just before they left. I am tired of playing mediator. Somehow I thought after 25 years with each other, they'd learn not to push each others buttons.

I want to go to the party my bank teller is going to tomorrow in honor of the Sex & the City movie. I don't even have anyone to go to the movies with.

I feel like I have a lot to say, but I am so fried from the last few days.

My car is officially dead. It tried to take me with it, I'm still shaking.

Wow, I hate whining, and yet, I am SO good at it.

Hmph

The feeling of dread regarding the upcoming company is palpable.

I've forgotten just how difficult pretending can be. We have to be on our game for at least most of the visit.

Still have a bunch of things to do, and get. But tomorrow and Wednesday will be wasted by this little jaunt to Johnson City.

I still need to cry. I'm going to have to induce it somehow if it doesn't happen. Otherwise, given Murphy's law, it will happen at an extremely inappropriate time.

Weekend's over...

Busy week up ahead of me, getting everything in order for the family visiting this next weekend.  Anxious about it, to say the least.

Newsflash - apparently, I'm driving to Johnson City, TN, Tuesday to take the husband to a meeting. Can you just feel the enthusiasm? I'm not pleased, we're going to have to stay overnight because of the schedule, and I'm not in the mood for a mini-road trip. Plus, I've not had to take a long car ride without Canadian Crack* since I left Buffalo. I'm wondering what the hell is IN Johnson City, TN?

Today I ran a bunch of little errands. One of which - getting the dog washed. Almost killed the groomer. They asked me to hold the dog down on the floor as I arrived to pick him up so they could finish cleaning his paws/trimming his nails. Not to sound like a crank, but there I was, all dressed up and in white pants no less. Yes, I know, he's my dog. Well, my husband's. But, I paid you to do this, and crawling on the floor to assist you is not part of the price. (There was another person there she could have asked to help her)

Trying to finish up a few last projects before I go to bed. Ha, like I ever go to bed at a normal hour...

*Canadian Crack - term of endearment for Tim Hortons Double Double Coffee

Bitching, cursing and porn... what good girls shouldn't do

I'm not sure if it's cyclical, or hormonal. Maybe it's just something I can only fight off for a certain period of time.

I am being a bitch. Not just the snarky sarcastic version of myself everyone has come to love and adore. The sex-crazed, over-emotional, insult-muttering uber-bitch.

Why? Because I'm holding it all in. The anger. The frustration, resentment, guilt, fear, disappointment. They all build.

Add to that the fact that I feel wasted. Not in the fun way, in the "I'm young, (I'd like to think) desirable, and sexual and I can't accept this" way

The resignation on his part galls me. At 41, he feels okay with being asexual.  Admittedly, his sexuality was never a huge part of his appeal personality. 

I would like to scream.  Or cry.

Mostly cry.

It's gotten to the point where I don't view him sexually. I'm not attracted to him sexually. It's hard for me to admit it, but it's a fact.

And I find myself resorting to bad behaviors. Porn is a deprived married woman's best friend. Okay... toys might be a deprived married woman's best friend, but do I have to only choose one? I think not. They often work best in conjunction.

I'm trying not to stray into dangerous territory, I'm being good about masturbatory frequency. I did not pounce on the cute guy who smiled at me in the freezer section. Or offer parking lot head to the man who carried my box outside the post office. Though the thoughts are crossing my mind.

(Side note - Southern gentlemen are one of things I've come to love about Nashville)

So, I curse, bitch and mutter. Fantasize and frustrate myself to no end. Wander the internet for porn that meets my standards, and stock up on batteries.