Tag Archives: secret boyfriend

Monica Lewinsky isn’t the only one who can rock a blue dress

18 Aug

Six months.  Six blissful months in Australia and now I have returned to ‘Merica.  Yes, I saw kangaroos, and koalas.  No, I did not meet Crocodile Dundee, or make shrimp on the barbie.  Yes, I met someone.  No, it won’t last forever.  Yes, I made out with him outside my hotel.  No, I did not touch his penis.  Yes, I had secret boyfriends.  No, I did not ruin any marriages.

So back to work and back to boring old sex-less life in the USA.

[insert sad trombone music here]

Really the only good thing about being back is I’m reunited with one of my secret boyfriends.  So secret he doesn’t know about it.  And happily married.  Of course he is.  Because every dude I meet is either married, a douche bag, married and a douche bag, or single for some reason other than being a douche bag.  Anyway, so Bow Tie was sitting in my cubicle today and had just finished explaining to me why he doesn’t wear a wedding ring (it’s not because he cheats), when he blurted out, “Where’s Kate Spade?”

Not a question you hear everyday from a straight dude.

“This, Kate Spade?” I asked him while showing him my bag.  “No, the blue dress,” he responded.

Ah, yes.  The blue dress.  The blue dress I purchased last October before heading off to Europe for a month.  The blue Kate Spade dress that I got an excellent deal on.  The blue dress that sucks everything in and makes me look hot.  The one he commented on every time he saw me in it.

“That’s a winter dress.  It’s wool.  I can’t wear it in summer time.”  People, that’s a lie.  It’s not so much that I can’t wear it in summer.  It’s that I can’t wear if I want to zip the thing because I gained (no joke) 20 pounds in Australia and went up 2 dress sizes since I bought it.

Fuck.

FUCK!

I have two months to lose 20 pounds so I can fit back into that damned blue fucking dress.

Bye bye french fries, and chips, and cupcakes, and wine every night, and fried foods, and chocolates, and lollies, and pasta dishes, and 4 lattes a day, and Jesus no wonder I’m so fat.

I’m not dead yet

10 Jan

Bet you thought I was gone forever, didn’t you?  Not quite – more of a hiatus.  You see, it’s weird how a personal photo of yours can end up on social media somewhere and anyone of your friends who knows you in real life but not on the interwebs could very easily make a connection that you’ve got this secret little writing gig.  So perhaps a self imposed holiday from the blogosphere is best.  But it’s been long enough and I have returned for random ramblings!

I could tell you that I have a serious beau and we’re getting ready to move in.  That he’s an absolute dreamboat and everything I ever dreamed of.  Or that maybe one night in a drunken stupor I called 3D and we knocked boots until dawn.  Or maybe that some failed judgement led to a night of debauchery with a coworker.  I could tell you all of those things, but they’d be down right lies.

But here’s what I can tell you that is not a lie: I’m leaving on a jet plane to Australia in two weeks.  In two weeks for six months.  That’s right, friends, I’m taking my shenanigans on the road and planning on making out with at least one Aussie with a dreamy accent.  Actually, I already have an eye on someone.  It just so happens that I have this coworker who is hotter than fuck and the heavens have aligned to make it so he and I will be sitting right next to one another.

Blond.  Blue eyes.  Accent.  Hot bod.  Why can’t he just be mine?

We’ll see what happens…

Proof He Wants Me

8 Mar

At least he does in my mind…

So yesterday my boss and I were off to a meeting together, the following conversation ensued.

  • Hot Boss with Dreamy Blue Eyes: I have to go stop in the bathroom.  Can you wait for me?
  • Me: Sure.  Do you want me to hold your stuff?
  • HBwDBE: Great! [Hands me his coffee and folder] I have to take a dump.  KIDDING!
  • Me: Good luck!  If you’re not out in five minutes I’ll send help.

That totally happened.  He said that to me.  I’d still totally make out with him.

Is Lent Over Yet

20 Feb

People, I am struggling with my Lent sacrifice.  Please remind me why I decided to give up boys?  It seems like such a bad idea now, especially since part of my sacrifice included not enjoying the hotness that is my boss.

Today our entire team had a working session at his house.  He wore this clingy shirt that hugged his pecs and biceps.  God.  Damn.  He is so damn fine!  At one point he was kind of laying on the couch and I actually imagined walking over to him and just climbing all over him.  Thankfully, I was saved from making a terrible decision by the fact that all of my coworkers were around me and I would have had to push one of my teammates out of my way to get to him.

Tomorrow we have our regularly scheduled meeting.  Just the two of us.  The meeting where he offers to buy me coffee or lunch and then will wink at least twice.

Is it wrong to want to climb into his lap?  Because it really doesn’t seem all that wrong – even though we’ll be in the cafeteria.  I mean, I’m sure that the people will not mind.  Right??

22 Jan

My.  Life.  Is.  So.  Hard!

Jesus, I freaking SWEAR!!

Do you have ANY idea what it’s like to have an incredibly smoking hot secret boyfriend at work who looks to you for guidance??  This is my life, people!  I’m his go to person.  Yeah, that’s right.  He sees me as his mentor?

Why?  Because I fucking ROCK at my job.  I rock it so much that the head of my department tells me I’m freaking awesome and everyone knows I’m his favorite.  FAVORITE.

  • Crazy client?  Let’s give her to Catherinette because she can turn the client around.
  • Impossible project?  Catherinette can do it!
  • Need help figuring out how to get something done?  Ask Catherinette to help you!
  • High profile project that requires precise execution?  Catherinette to the rescue!
  • Smokey hot dude need help getting his work done because he’s not as smart as he is pretty?  Catherinette.

This afternoon I spent two hours with my secret boyfriend.  Two hours in a teeny tiny room.  Yes, my primary motive was to be in tight quarters with him and use my psychic powers to get him to take his shirt off.  Did it happen?  No, it did not.  My chi was off because I had to talk him down off the ledge.  He hates his job right now – mainly because he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and I rock so much he wanted me to help.

Yeah, I know, it’s super nice of me to help.

But we all know the main reason I’m helping him is because I don’t want him to leave because then I’ll have no one to stare at at work.  So for as long as he needs me, I’m his shoulder to cry on.

I’ll bring the Kleenex to our next meeting.

I hope he loses his shirt.

The morning after

2 Nov

I want to vomit and I want to die. Though not necessarily in that order. Long night of drinking turns into a long day of cocktail flu. Swore up and down I wouldn’t drink that much and wouldn’t stay out too late.

Four cocktails and two beers later I looked at the clock and noticed it was past 1:00 in the morning. Guess I was wrong. Thank god I didn’t order one last round at 1:30. Can only imagine how amazing having my stomach pumped would feel.

But we had such a magical and romantic time. He spent hours talking about his wife, and how if she ever cheated he’d leave her, and how he knew they’d be together forever, and how lucky they both felt to have found one another, and how much he loved their new baby. Really romantic. And then there was that awesome time when we were at the bar and our legs accidentally touched so he totally readjusted himself and moved as far away as possible without actually changing seats. It was great.

I want to vomit.  And die.

And then make out with him.  But not necessarily in that order.

The “Accidental” Booby Touch

9 Jul

It’s no secret that most straight men are pigs.  Many of them have figured out a very clever way to “accidentally” grab a handful of boob.  Some will rub up against you in a bar, others will pretend to brush something off your shirt.  Some are so bold as to not bother hiding what they’re after and will flat out palm your fun bags.  Said dudes are typically douche bags and should be avoided at all costs – unless you’re into being molested by assholes or are hoping for a free drink.

Biggie Smalls is pretty clever.  When he walks by you he may accidentally rub you with his elbow.  I’ve taken to crossing my arms in front of my chest anytime he walks by me now.

Well guess who got all handsy with me on Saturday?  My secret boyfriend.  Yeah, that’s right.  Pretty bold too since it was in front of his wife.  Yeah, yeah, some might claim it was an accident since I was passing him his newborn daughter when it happened.  Fingertips poking at my knockers.  Suave?  No, not so much.  But I almost dropped his kid and gave him a high five.

He immediately shifted positions and said, “well that’s not working, let’s try something else.”

Was it an accident?  Not in my mind. FINE!  To 95% of the people out there it’s an accident.  When I mentioned it to Biggie Smalls this morning he laughed his ass off and told me I was “an idiot”.  He then offered to show me what it would have been like if the dude had really been after them.  I promptly passed on his kind offer.

I hate it when my secret boyfriends are married and are in love with their new babies.

On the bright side, I did manage to leave his house with an awkward hug, a six pack of beer, and a $50 gift card.  That’s what I get for being so awesome.