Archive | October, 2018

I’ll take two

29 Oct

Lord have mercy!  How is one to resist a set of dimples and a pair of dreamy blue eyes?  Instead one finds ways of luring those dimples and dreamy blue eyes into her office.  While there, she makes lots of terrible jokes, just so she can see the dimples on full display.

Kids, my work husband, The Cyclist, is a full fledged dreamboat.  He typically wears suits in the office – and he fills them out pretty well.  A few weeks ago I saw him in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt.  Far out.  He’s packing some serious guns.  We were at an all day event and I found myself drifting towards him several times that day.  I had to pay attention to not sitting too close to him and “accidentally” smacking his arms.  You’ll be pleased to know I controlled myself.

Monsieur le Baguette knows all about him.  The day I met The Cyclist I told MlB he was like MlB only with a suit and tie.  Totally true.  People who have met both of them have said how much they seem alike.  Not in looks, mind you, but in their personalities.  MlB and I are both, shall we say, doughy.  The Cyclist is full muscle, at least that’s what it looks like to me.  He’s meant for climbing on (like a fucking jungle gym), where MlB is meant to snuggle with.  A few weeks ago MlB came into the office and I introduced him to everyone on the team.  When he met The Cyclist he turned to me and said, “is this work me?”  It was somewhat strange to see them in the same room and watch them shake each other’s hands.  Almost Twilight Zoneish.

In some ways it’s convenient to have two of them.  Since MlB and I live in different cities and only see each other a few times a month I get to have him some of the time, and then I get to gawk at The Cyclist during the rest of the time.  Seems totally reasonable and acceptable to me.

Good call or bad call?  I invited The Cyclist to go to a full day off site training program with me.

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Checking In

5 Oct

Amazing what a little therapy and some conversations about feelings can do for a relationship. My therapist has been helping me to chill the fuck out.  And Monsiuer le Baguette?  He’s been good.  Once I told him I was starting to feel the distance he upped his game and re-engaged.  Phone calls and texts everyday, telling me how much he missed me, saying he was sorry that he’d been less than attentive. It’s been 2 months since we had that conversation and he’s been fully present – or as much as he can be since after he came home and we saw each other we then went another month without seeing each other.

After his long ass trip away, we reunited during a tropical vacation.  We met in the airport in the Bahamas.  Romance, my friends, poor romance – it was our “Love Actually” moment.  Rushing into each others arms all hugs and kisses while we made everyone want to vomit with our “I missed you’s” and “I’m so happy to see you.”  And just like that all the distance melted and we were golden. Back to the moments I love when he mindlessly reaches for my hand when we’re walking, or when he places his hand on my leg when we’re sitting next to each other.  When he throws his arm over me in the middle of the night, then reaches the other under my pillow and holds my hand.  Eased right back into all of it.

The Saturday we were together was stupid romantic, silly romantic.  We slept in, we went to the beach, he held my hand while we went snorkeling – it was just the 2 of us by the reefs completely surrounded by fish.  He went back to the room for a bit and I stayed at the beach.  When he got back he told me he’d gone ahead and made plans for us for the rest of the weekend, including a champagne party that night and and anniversary dinner for our last night together.  We curled up on the lounge chair on our balcony and watched the sunset together, he was the big spoon.  The champagne party that night was on the beach.  As you can imagine, there was a lot of champagne and then there was a make out session on the beach.  There were L bombs exchanged.  Pure romance.

We saw each other again the following weekend, and then I flew across the world to hang out with Whiskey Tango Foxtrot for her 40th birthday.  She and I had a fucking blast – packed every single minute with stuff to do.  Can’t decide if the most fun part was her birthday party and stealing all of her friends, or the time when we met up with friends for dinner.  A glass of wine and dinner turned into a bottle and a half of wine and then whiskey.  Why, God, why did the whiskey have to come out.  Fun fact, which Whiskey Tango Foxtrot doesn’t know about (until she reads this), sometimes to ensure I can stop drinking I pour extra booze for those around me, I may have done that…Let’s just say the night included having to ask the uber driver to pull over so she could pull over and throw up on her shoes.  Good times, good times.

Anyway, back to Monsieur le Baguette…

7 months in and we’re in a great spot.  I’m currently sitting at his dining room table while he takes a conference call in his office.  We have the whole weekend together after not having seen each other for a month.

He went out this morning to buy provisions to make me breakfast.  When I took my seat at the makeshift office I’ve made for myself, I saw he’d put a fresh box of tissues next to my computer.  I’ve been battling a cold the last few days and he’s made sure I have everything I need to make myself comfortable.  He made my coffee this morning.

Tomorrow we’re hitting a major relationship milestone: we’re going to IKEA together and then we’re going to attempt to build some furniture.  We’re both stupid excited to do it.

So for those of you who’ve reached out to ask how things are going, they’re good.  I’m happy.