As discussed before, this blog is going to cover the "larger" events that have happened in the last bit since my "Best of" blog. Let's jump right in, shall we?
CHICAGO—And all that jazz
After much heeing and hawing, "The Powers that Be" decided it would be acceptable for an heir to head out to the ASHRAE Convention in Chicago. I flew out Saturday January 21st, planning on taking a "vacation day" for Monday. I wear my brand new zebra coat off the plane. Clearly overdone, but…whatever…I can pull it off. I meet up with my father and a cross section of who's who with the various companies we own.
Did I just say "we"? Ha. By "we" I mean "my father and extended family".
We take the limo to stop #1, our hotel. A nice old place, made much more fun by the fact that we've booked the entire top floor…yeah, it's fun to run around a hotel and leave all your doors open. If you have the resources, I'd highly recommend it. I get my own place, but ask M (one of the first people I worked for when I started back in 2002) to stay with me. Of course, everybody splits up quick…mostly due to the fact that my father informs me we have a drinks and appetizer meet-up scheduled with a top client. I'm running around—half naked—looking like a methed up monkey…trying to get dressed "appropriately."
Father and daughter head for the Ritz Carlton…and—not going to lie—I'm totally channeling Elizabeth Taylor in a long, thick pleated, black and white, A-line skirt…white tank…long sleeved black ballet wrap, and my find of the century black and white pumps. We order a bit, then the meeting gets rolling. I keep up with both the business and social aspects…which just goes to show you how hard a business this is for a woman…you have to be on your game about the product and company, but also ask the right, lovely personal questions and coo over photos of fat babies. Seriously, it's like mental gymnastics. Crazy moment of the night…well, up to that point…heh…concludes when Sir Top Customer opens his billfold and…low and behold…I see IT. The mythical American Express Centurion card…aka, American Express Black card. All black and sparkley…seriously, it's got this iridescent gold ribbon all around the border…crazy fun.
I literally almost screamed, "IT DOES EXIST!" Haha…I'm so classy, no? Turns out, Papa ain't feeling so hot. Freaks me out, because I cannot EVER remember a moment my father did not go out and party. He assures me he'll be fine and tells me to head out. I don some cute jeans matched up with TWGS (the world's greatest shirt)…complete with tape so my boobs don't fall out…and lots and lots of shimmer in my hair and glitter on my skin. Yeah, the GP (glitter paraphernalia) count was super high that night. The outfit, of course, gets topped off with my New Years Eve purchase…my white fully iridescent sequined pumps. I find out where M & Michelle are…we'll just call them M&M to save space…So, M&M are right next to the hotel at Mike Ditka's.
I head over, happily following a group of gorgeous—what I assume are—Frat boys. We—since clearly I've muscled my way into their group—head upstairs. There I find M&M, plus Michelle's cousin, an engineer, and a really HOT boy. You know the type, Iced blue eyes, wide jaw, dark brown hair shaved down a'la Wentworth Miller in Prison Break. You know…hot.
Now, two things immediately become clear to me. One: this boy looks a lot like my ex-boyfriend; which leads us to two: I must have a Godiva Martini IMMEDIATELY. I'm a little stressed out for a few reasons. First of all, any body sitting a table my family's paying for is an important customer/customer of a customer. Secondly, the kid—who shall forever be known as "Boston"—is younger than me. Not even legal to drink yet.
Yep, my thoughts, exactly.
I, of course, work the waiter so that Boston can slam a martini…after all, have you SEEN how much cuter I am when you're drunk?? Right…so, I'm contributing to the intoxication of a minor, not my finest moment, but whatever. So, we hook up with other people—coworkers and customers mostly…I continue drinking…and do some clever ID switching (Thank you Caity for all the tricks you've taught me!) so that Boston can go where we go…one too many Long Island's get in me…and I don't really remember much of anything. Yep, that's right…Christine sort of forgot she hadn't eating since her 11am flight…and got SUPER drunk. Now, I have not gotten so SUPER drunk since Vegas. However, the people who have never met me, have no idea what I'm usually like, so I *might* be giving a bad impression. Of course, most of these people are male…which means the GP and TWGS are working well for me…and M&M + cousin are looking after me. I wake up the next day not really recalling a whole lot. I find out…much, much, much, much later—as in weeks later…that my lips were working almost as hard as my outfit.
So not okay, Christine, so not okay.
Anyways, the rest of the trip goes along fine…I do a bit of sight seeing and what not…hit the ASHRAE show on Monday, and manage to exchange info (and perhaps some kisses) with Boston. Of course, I'm late for my plane, but nobody says anything, and all is well until…yeah, amazing Zebra coat? Still in Chicago somewhere. Makes me so freaking sad I almost came to tears in the airport.
Fast forward two weeks. Boston and I have racked up quite an impressive phone bill…Literally, nothing less than 4 hour conversations a night. He wants to see me, and I want to see him.
Next thing I know, I'm on a flight into Boston, MA.
Even more crazy-cool, is Lauren—complete w/Steve—is also flying in.
Am I excited, you ask? Are you effing kidding me? I'm FLIPPING OUT!
Now…heh…as everyone who matters knows…I'm a *ahem* LITTLE picky. In the immortal words of my girl, Cher, "I am just not interested in doing it until I find the right person. You see how picky I am about my shoes and they only go on my feet." So, clearly THAT part of my life has been nonexistent…I'm thinking Boston may just change my mind… Then I totally pull a classic me…I'm like, what if I've totally made Boston out to be something he's not? What if the alcohol and/or tiredness mixed with a great accent and skewed my whole outlook??? What if he doesn't even look like I remember him. What if my whole weekend turns to crap? AND I lose a fantastic phone friend?? These issues *might* have been relieved by a nice martini…but no…the flight I'm on has no alcohol…WTF? Seriously? SERIOUSLY??
But I digress.
Boston pulls up in his jeep, jumps out…and I totally have a "Oh, thank God, he is effing hott" moment. Shallow? Perhaps, but I wouldn't be there if I wasn't sort of falling for the words he's been saying for the last two weeks. That's my story, anyways.
I get a bouquet of yellow daffodils…beautiful and so much better than roses…at least for me…besides the fact that he's watching me instead of the road, Boston and I fall right into our "thing" like we are old college buddies or something.
I'm skirting over things, clearly, but that's just who I am…sorry, maybe someday I'll publish my memoirs, and you can get all the sorid details then.
On to things I do wish to discuss…
So I FINALLY got to meet Steve. The whole thing made me feel rather nervous and insane. What if he doesn't like me? What if I make a fool of myself? What if Lauren doesn't like him not liking me and drops me? These and a thousand other worthless insecurities swirl around in my head like the paper cone in a cotton candy tub. Seriously stresses me out. Boston tries to help out…consciously or not…by sticking close and engaging me in embarrassing stages of PDA's.
Then the moment arrives. I see the towering, white-blond we all know and love…next to a similarly tall brunette male. First off, let me just tell y'all, these two have my vote for Rockstar Couple of the year. Not only are they wearing matching pairs of converse sneakers—come ON! That is so cute!—they also are both rocking the tragically hipster-pirate vibe.
Awkward moment number one is introductions. I demand hugs from both, because, even though I've never met Steve, I do feel like I know him. Then introduce Boston. Steve is from a town just around the corner where Boston lives, so the two engage in local chitchat. Awkward moment number two comes when I can't take my eyes off Steve's…ah, area? OKok, it's not what it sounds like. He's wearing this AMAZING belt buckle. Seriously, I had just been shopping downtown with MGFM and looking at belt buckles, so I know what's what. It's silver—or silver-esque, whatever—and in the shape of an old music Cassette tape. So freaking cool…and I'm honestly trying to figure out how to steal it without making anyone think I'm diving for a grab at Steve's zipper. Haha… "I SWEAR, guys, I swear I wasn't trying to cop a feel! SWEAR!"…needless to say, I kept my hands to myself and just prayed none of present company noticed my distraction. Awkward moment number three is just your run of the mill "friend meet up" mixed in with sleepy, hungry people.
There was actually this rather funny moment when Steve snarks to Lauren, "I'm disappointed. You said there'd be flying conversation. You said I wouldn't be able to keep up?" Lauren does the blink thing she should really patent, and warns, "Give me some food and see if you can keep up." Literally five minutes later Steve's watching the two of us like a tennis spectator, and says, "Wait, what was that? I totally missed that last part." Lauren and I exchange bitchy glances and burst out laughing…see what happens when you question the conversational skills of the duo that is Lauren & Christine? Hehe… Riiight.
During brunch/lunch, we take the obligatory pics, and Lauren shows off this hilarious picture of a dude in a full on wetsuit, holding a surf board. Did I mention we are in Boston (ah…the city, not the person) in the wintertime? Yep, the dudes insane. Lauren was perfectly correct in stating the funniest part was the group of coated people huddled together looking over their shoulders at the guy like, what the fuck….?
Steve gets the bill…to which I try to argue…to which Steve gives me a look that literally scares the crap out of me. Like, I'm trying to find the words to explain this look, and I'm getting creeped out goosebumps. Seriously, if Medusa and the town of Sodom got together, THE LOOK *might* match the one Steve gave me. Clearly, he paid.
(THANK YOU, STEVE, FOR BRUNCH/LUNCH! SUPER SWEET OF YOU!)
Our little Quading wanders around…Lauren and I find THE HOOKER of Boston. Some dude on a horse monument with "Hooker" etched in the side. Super funny due to the fact that "hooker" is what Lauren regularly calls me. Clearly more picture taking ensues. We stop at Starbucks AND Dunkin' Donuts…because…I donno apparently DD coffee is orgasmic? I don't drink coffee, so whatever. (espresso is SO not coffee.)
I start having labor pains…or whatever the hell is going on with that area…of course, the pyramid is only a day away…gerrr…Lauren notices right away that I'm having difficulties, and does a really good job of helping me hide my discomfort. We take seats on this super cool concrete bench that was totally MADE for people watching.
Then Boston and Steve engage in typical male bonding…aka…both telling their best fighting stories…Lauren and I are doing a lot of the eye rolling. We decide if they had cars, they'd be revving the engines…ha…also, both of their penises are REALLY BIG…lol… boys.
Obligatory eye roll inserted here.
Right…so…the time comes to split the couples…and, like anytime I leave Lauren, I'm feeling like I'm forgetting something really important…like…I donno, my hair or something. What can I say, the girl means the world to me. Boston and I go on our merry way…him basically giving me the usual, "your friends are really cool—chill and funny—you know?" I do know, so I just try to smile. Try, because my body still seems to want me to experience the Immaculate Conception. Boston's doing everything he can to help out, which basically includes getting me back to the hotel ASAP…so I can take a bath and mix a martini.
We fall asleep watching the Superbowl…which, cute as that was, is hysterical, because the first words out of his mouth in the morning are, "I have no idea who the hell won."
Finally, I'm flying home…trying to figure out exactly what Boston means to me…exactly what I can LET Boston mean to me. The last time…yeah, I'll say it…the last time I was in love, my heart got shredded apart. Nearly three years later…I don't know if I'm going to be able to be ready to do it all again. Especially since he's there, and I'm here. I resign to not think about it…which works only until I get my nightly phone call from Boston.
Where's it going to go? Hell if I know…but, since I'm already on the ride, I might as well open my eyes…
OH LOUIS, MY LOUIS—MGFM's Birthday Present to me
As all of you who know me will object, it is not yet my birthday. This is true, and MGFM knows this. However, MGFM also wanted me to have the use of my present while I'm traveling around DC this weekend. What did I get, you may ask?
Hehe…I as much as I hate to admit it, I'm TOTALLY pulling a Jessica Simpson…walking around with "my Louis" like a pet Pomeranian.
I can't help it…I've NEVER had a wallet that matched my purse. LOL…and you should see the way I get treated in the mall now…total hilarity.
Right…so…I think that's the gist of it all, for now…but don't despair y'all! I leave for DC tomorrow! The play by play will follow...shortly…
Until then…*MUAH*…I love you all!
Quote of the Moment: "I wanna drive around and…what the hell did I just say? Did I just say something about driving? That's it, I'm tired, I'm going to bed." Soundtrack of the Moment: Vitamin C's More TV/Movie Quote: From The Newlyweds, "Is that weird, taking my Louis Vuitton bag camping?"