I Already Have a Husband

Apparently, according to my friends, I already have a husband. My "Office Husband." A.K.A. my BOSS. Eeeew. Every time I tell a boss story, a friend says something like "Oh, he loves you," or "oh, your 'husband'. At first it was a little disconcerting, but now it just creeps me out!



And they are right. It's like we're a couple. The guy won't eat lunch alone so we go out to eat in Ballard quite often. I'm just sure the cutie waiter at Bad Albert's wonders if we're a couple. We've both paid for the lunch before using the company credit card which also shows our names are different. Hopefully, he's caught on to that. The waitresses at Vera's, I'm certain, think we are a couple. And we always go shopping together at the Ballard Market for kitchen supplies. Grocery store shopping is most definitely a 'couple' activity. Yuk yuk and double yuk. The other day I made him go alone because I had actual work to get done. He pouted.



I stayed home sick one day a few weeks ago. By ten o'clock he'd already called me three times. Once was to ask me where he could buy a coffee maker because ours at the office was broken. If that isn't a 'husband-type' question, I don't know what is. And if you listen in on our conversations at the office, we even sound like an old married couple....arguing and bickering about petty things (see pulling the rip chord).



He takes naps almost daily on the sofa in the back of the office and asks me to wake him up in 30 minutes. Although, not a bad idea, it's just a bit strange for me.



Next week we are going to a conference in Washington, D.C. Traveling together is waaaay too couple-like. I swear I better not have to sit next to the guy. I need some alone time. He's a bit like a large, old, co-dependent child. He needs constant babysitting - loses things, forgets things, leaves things lying around where they don't belong, usually has a stain on his shirt and tends to wear a colored logo T-shirt underneath his dress shirts. A nanny to a 57 year old man is not what I signed up for....which is a little what every wife says! Oh no!



Being in the wrong job is a lot like being in the wrong marriage. However, this analogy is just too closely related in my case. I really need to get out of this 'marriage'. I've done it before and I can do it again. I'm hoping to meet someone new at this conference! I know it'll break my 'Office Husband's' heart, but hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Pulling the Rip Chord

My boss and I have this running joke about me fleeing to Guatemala. That was his country of choice in the joke, not mine. However, the more I think about it and do some research, Guatemala is sounding more and more interesting. He has no idea what he's started. 

Since my return to the states just over two years ago already, I've been trying to live clean and simply. No car, month to month rent, minimal incoming bills (the electric bill and my T-Mobile bill). I have not hooked up cable, a land line, or anything else that would feel like I'm a permanent residence of this place. I have a few pictures hung, but for the most part, the walls are bare and the pictures are leaning against them on the floor. I have been here much longer than I had anticipated, but I still want to be able to pack up and fly whenever the time suits me. 

My boss is aware of this, although he is in denial. I talk about leaving Seattle regularly. Daily even. It's no secret. It drives him crazy. Last week he advised me to order the Clearwire device so I can have Internet at my apartment. He seems to think showering me with electronics and other toys will keep me around. Obviously, he is unaware of the true troglodyte he is dealing with here. He bought me a new cell phone when I started the job (nothing was wrong with my old one, mind you), he bought the Vespa for me to ride, he gave me a Bluetooth for a Christmas present (is he kidding me?), he bought a new MAC notebook for the office and then sent me home with it, his daughter gave him a new Blackberry and he tried to give me his old one. To this I had to throw my hands up and refuse. I just can't become one of those Blackberry users. Enough is enough. And now the Clearwire. The thing is none of these things are incentives because I've been happy enough to live without them. It's not money saved to me because I wouldn't spend my money on these things. I'd spend it on travel. 

When I ordered the Clearwire, I put it under the boss's name and paid for it with the company credit card. He was furious that I put it under his name. He wanted it under my name. MY name? Why? It isn't mine. I'm just the user. When I leave the company, I'll give it back. I don't want anything in MY name. He said he didn't either. I told him I don't want any bills coming to me, any advertisements, I don't want this on my credit report, zero, zip. So we had a little heated discussion about this transaction which ended with him mimicking me in a high pitched voice, "I don't want anything getting in the way of my parachute when I pull the rip cord!" 

 At least I know he's been listening.

Another Very Sexy Date

After a couple weeks in hiding, #8 called me yesterday morning to ask me out for that evening. A little last minute, but as it happened, I was free and it seemed like a good idea, so said yes. THEN he tells me that he is dieting and will be drinking water and eating like a bird all night. Sounds like a blast. If there is anything worse than a woman fretting about her weight and constantly parading her diets in front of everyone on nights out, it's a man openly fretting about his weight and dieting on a date. Not that I shouldn't be watching my cals and alcoholic intake, but I would be discreet about it when on a date. Guys don't like to hear a woman droning on about her needing to lose five pounds or how fat she thinks she is. Well, women don't want to hear that crap from men either. To top it off, #8 is not even fat. He's actually a bit on the puny side as far as I'm concerned. If the guy actually loses any of this imaginary fat he's talking about, I won't be able to find him in a crowded room. 

After our meal of salads and water (actually, I splurged and got an iced tea with a touch of the pink stuff a.k.a. sweet 'n low) we took a walk around Green Lake. It was a gorgeous evening. A perfect way to enjoy the weather (yea! I haven't been bitchy for two and a half days now!) and get a little exercise. Then we went to The Sitting Room,  my favorite neighborhood bar, where I enjoyed a glass of red wine and Eight drank water and nibbled on some olives.  

Today he invited me to go on a motorbike ride with him. He suggested a trip to Chateau St Michelle Winery for a tour and tasting, then on to Snoqualmie Falls for a hike down the trail and a little picnic. Once I figured out what to wear for this Triple-Decker date...motorcycle riding (jeans and boots?), wine tasting (cute skirt and strappy sandals?) and hike (shorts and walking shoes?) it turned out to be a wonderful day.  I opted for the cropped cargo pant, urban sneakers and cute t-shirt. 

The winery was beautiful today. We took the tour, browsed the shop and enjoyed a few tastings. Then we headed on out toward Duvall and Fall City, passing farmlands, fields and lush green forests,  grabbed a sandwich and hiked down the trail from Snoqualmie Falls and had our picnic. The falls were the most raging and overflowing either of us had ever seen. Our heavy snowfall this past winter is providing quite the scenic wonder.  

It was a great day of riding on the back of 8's bike, the warm weather allowing us to travel in just our shirtsleeves, a bit of exercise and romance. And a lot of 'two wheeler waving.' Really nice time with old #8. Another one of his very sexy dates that he comes up with every so often. So what's going on with us, you may ask? Nothing. We date a couple times a month and that's it. It seems to be working for both of us. Friday night he began to sleep over, but then left in the middle of the night because he couldn't sleep and I was completely fine with it. Sure, I felt bad that he wasn't able to sleep, but I wasn't sleeping that well myself. Once he left, I washed my face, put on something comfortable to sleep in, ate a cookie and went to bed. Slept like a baby. And most likely snored up a storm without waking up feeling bad about it. 

I might be doomed to forever sleeping alone. But maybe that's just fine. Until I find the guy I really want to share my bed with for the entire night, I'm okay with the 3 a.m. exit. Before meeting up for our 'sexy date' on Saturday, I was able to wake up at my leisure, sip my coffee out on my balcony and enjoy the morning at my pace. One of my most favorite past-times. 

Vespa Hog

Apparently, I'm now in the 'cool' crowd. Last winter my boss bought a Vespa for the office. The company vehicle. Well, he and I are the office...and he already has a vehicle and I don't see him, a 57 year old, over weight man, zipping around on a bright yellow scooter. Actually, I have seen him and it's entertaining. Yeah, of all the colors lined up outside the Vespa dealer, he chooses bright yellow? He must have gotten a great deal.

So basically he bought the thing for me to ride. He hates that I take the bus. What's wrong with the bus? He insists that it doesn't go anywhere and only crazies ride the bus. He has never ridden the bus in his life. True it's a challenge, but it's workable with some patience and practice. It took me about six months to really get it figured out with all the routes, rules, fare requirements and schedules. But I've got it down. And as for the crazies, it's what makes life interesting.

I do love riding the Vespa. It's a 150cc so slightly heavier than what I rode while in Europe and noticeably a nicer ride! Gas is minimal, I can park it anywhere and it's fun. What I've noticed recently is that other riders wave at me. I was unaware of two wheeler etiquette. At first when another scooter would go past and wave, I wasn't sure they were waving at me. Maybe they saw someone they knew in the car near me? But after a few more waves I realized that they were actually waving at me. I thought "Oh, we wave at fellow scooter riders. How cute."

Then yesterday while riding home from work, I noticed a lot more bikers on the road. Such a gorgeous day and all, everyone was out riding. And ALL the bikers were waving at me! Even those on the 'big boy bikes.' Some dude on a Harley rides past me and gives me one of those index finger/trigger pulling kind of waves. I could only laugh! I'm like the cool chick on my little yellow "hog". I'm now part of an elite group: Motorcycle Mamas. My dream for some time has been to learn to ride a Harley and tour around the states. I'm working my way up slowly. But at least I've been accepted into the club.

80 Degrees Please

Do I even need to say "enough is enough?" I mean really, what day is this? May 14th or December 14th? It's really getting hard to tell anymore. The lining and pockets of my winter coat have shredded, I've lost or worn out three pair of gloves this season alone, and my scarves are beginning to tatter. It's time to retire these bits of woolen fabrics and pull out the spring clothes that we in Seattle never wear out!

Our warm weather clothes last far beyond the fashion trends. Yes, I know that is no reason to continue wearing out of fashion sandals, but in keeping with the current "Green" campaign, I find it difficult to discard a perfectly good pair of sandals that have barely been worn because our weather is not conducive to such skin revealing footwear. Besides that I'm a low income case and need to embrace the "everything old is new again" motto.

Last week a friend met me for a lunchtime walk and I had to ask her to bring me a scarf to wear because I stupidly forgot mine. I forgot where I was for a moment that morning as I left for the office! Silly me. It's only May! I can't walk out of the house without my scarf, gloves and turtleneck.

As another friend commented during this weekend's constant drizzle, and I agreed wholeheartedly, "I'm about to claw my way out of this city." Oh, how appropriate. She, however, is clawing her way out and moving to Tennessee! She's packed up her apartment and will be on her way soon, leaving me behind in the mist and gray skies.

My boss is sure I'm going to bail on him any minute and head off to Guatemala. Hmmm, I hadn't really been thinking of Guatemala, but now that he mentions it....

For the last week I've been hearing everyone say "it's suppose to get into the 80's by the end of next week." Tomorrow is the beginning of the "end of next week" and I am getting my old, yet perfectly new, sandals out tonight in preparation for the event.

Optimism: It's one of my finest qualities!

Working Smarter, Not Harder

I certainly need some lessons on this motto. It's been five years since my escape from the cubical farm corporate gig that made me crazy. Spinning my wheels on endless projects that meant nothing to me, excessive meetings about nothing, late nights and fluorescent lighting that drained your energy were what led me to a six month sabbatical.

Once in Europe I was poor, but living a much more relaxed life style. Until I joined the ranks of the tourism industry during the summer months. Then I remembered why I had been on sabbatical! For those who have ever experienced the tourism industry, you know what I'm saying. It is not for the faint of heart.

Well, neither is my current position. It seems to be a bit of a cross between the corporate madness of looming deadlines, sitting in front of a computer screen all day and frantic phone callings trying to pitch an idea to someone who would really rather not be listening and the complicated logistical planning and glorified babysitting job of tourism.

The job sounded pretty interesting when I interviewed. And basically it is interesting. We develop and administer educational training program worldwide. Sounds like it'd have all the components of my 'perfect job': education (I love to teach), writing, travel, public speaking, and hosting. True, the job does possess most of these components in some way. However, I've seen no travel opportunities come my way, the writing is of the technical nature, not the creative kind (typical in the workplace, of course) and I don't get to DO the teaching, I just plan the programs for others to do the teaching and training. I'm as high in the company as I can go. There is the president and me. We do have an intern who works two days a week and just recently I talked him into hiring a bookkeeper (another one of my many duties, and not my forte).

So, I'm working like a dog, still babysitting dogs because my 9-5 gig doesn't pay very well, I'm working late on a Friday night and I'm reminded of the phrase "work smarter, not harder." I'm going to need to dwell on that over the weekend and come up with some solutions! I am going to the NAFSA : Association of International Educators annual conference at the end of the month and will be doing some heavy networking.

Starve a Cold, Feed a Fever

Or is it feed a cold and starve a fever? Or is it eat everything you can get down the hatch if it makes you feel better? Is it possible to get fat from chicken soup and saltine crackers? Apparently, it is, especially when teamed up with a package of Mother's Taffy cookies and a block of cheese. Toss in lack of a good workout and there ya go, a good five pounds of extra flab.

I've been suffering a crazy spring cold for two weeks now. I don't get sick very often and when I do, it generally only lasts a couple of days max. This one, however, is kicking my growing butt! Besides the food, I've been consuming $100 worth of Bartell's supplies: TheraFlu, NyQuil, Tylenol PM, Echanecia, Vitamin C, Juices Galore, and more tea and honey than I can stand....and I like tea, or at least I did.

Last weekend I was completely shut in with laryngitis. People who know me would have loved that. Two whole days without listening to Chatty Cathy yammering on. I crawled back to work on Monday, but my boss insisted I stay home on Tuesday. I think more than being concerned about my health, he was concerned about me spreading the joy. I don't blame him. I get annoyed when sick people come to work unnecessarily.

I'm on day 14 since the onset and still suffering a chronic cough. My neighbors are loving me, I'm sure. I figure it's pay back for all the screaming sex noise I have to endure. It's got to wrap up soon. This lovely "December in May" weather we've been enjoying isn't making things any better...for my health or my mood.

Okay, Wilma Whiner is signing off now....wishing you all good health!