San Francisco part I

 While I know this is debatable, I need to tell the whole Mischief story, and trust me, I'm doing this for me as it helps me getting in touch with reality. So, here's another portion.

Once I got the news that I did not need to have a massive surgery, I decided that it was time to get some help on the weight loss journey, beyond ChatGPT which is very dear t me, but has its limitations. I went to see a doctor who is very well known, in the hope that he would maybe give me a GLP1. Although he did not, he gave me a diet that I'm actually enjoying, making sure to include lots of things I love and that I find satisfying.

I got there in late March, and I was 71kg (BMI 24.6), and I'll have to go again next Tuesday. 

Work was a bit peculiar in April, I had few projects, all more complex than they were worth, so a bit unsatisfying. I knew I was thinking too much about Mischief but told myself to just drop it, as I was never going to see him again in my life. I was (and still am) training a lot, I have upgraded my routine to include some weights on top of the elliptical machine, and on Thursdays I do HIIT at the park outside my place with a personal trainer and a small group of 4-5 people.

In early April I found out that I was going to San Francisco in the first week of May, and in the chat that Mischief had set up with me and Carlos we had promised to update each other on travels, so I did mention this. Mischief replied immediately "I can arrange plans to meet there". Then he disappeared for a couple weeks which admittedly kind of lowed my spirits. I remember biking to work one morning and telling myself that I had been dreaming, that he certainly had not been giving me the eye, and to move on with my life. I even kind of managed to do so.

I was on the verge of buying my plane tickets without further considerations, when he resurfaced and started texting me outside the chat. As my agenda was super packed from breakfast to dinner from Monday to Wednesday, and I wanted to set up a couple extra meetings on Wednesday afternoon when my main purpose of travel would be over (and my other European colleagues were flying back), he suggested to meet for dinner on Wednesday and I thought this was a good plan allowing me to meet the bankers I wanted to see while there, as there were no convenient flights back on Wed night, I would fly back on Tuesday afternoon. Mischief being Mischief he also set up a few meetings on Thursday (read: he went to see Nvidia guys) and thus the plan was settled.

I had never been to San Francisco, and travelled there with French colleagues, which I love because French is much easier than English for me and they are really two fun guys. Once landed on Monday, we had a couple hours to spare and walked to Pier39 to see the sea lions (that I had never seen in my life and man I loved them!!!!), and the long walk really helped me start the week on the right foot with almost no jet lag. The days flew by and in an eyeblink it was Wednesday afternoon. I wrapped up my meetings, and walked back to the hotel - it was a lovely warm day, and Mischief was texting me about dinner plans, and I wrote him "I've literally spent the last two days seating - can we just walk around a bit and grab something casually? I swear that if you told me let's skip dinner and grab something from a food truck I would be delighted" and he said that sounded great. I showered, looked at the classy, feminine and expensive top I had brought with me for the occasion, and instead I wore a man button down shirt, the usual kind I wear at work these days, with some white linen trousers and my black leather jacket. I literally had no idea on Mischief's motives to be there, and I thought it made more sense to just show him the same exact version of me he'd seen in Mountain View. Well, at least I was 67kg (148lbs), so roughly 15lbs less than I was at such time.

At 5PM I was in the lobby when he came - he saw me, smiled and hugged me tight - and at that point I thought "All is good, he really wants to be friend with me". 

We stepped out and started walking randomly and picked up the conversation as if Mountain View had finished 2 hours earlier instead of 2 months earlier. At some point we stopped at a nice place, sat at the bar drinking Sancerre for a while and we were having a blast. We got a table and a beef tartare and Mischief got some shrimps and I was teasing him endlessly on his eating non kosher food. All was good but I started having mixed feelings about what was going on, not in a bad way, but I was unable to read the situation. Once food was finished and we were finishing our wine and that is when the neurodivergent me straightly said: "Let me ask you a question: did you come here to fuck me?"

Song for this post: "Supergirl" in the Della Chaos version

first steps

 As always, the first week dieting is the easiest - and I shredded 2kg (4.5lbs) relatively easily (I even went out for drinks with the kids at work).

On top of the upcoming wedding, I'll have to go to Dubai for work in 10 days and then it'll be Monte Carlo (again - it's a project that already occurred 3 years ago, see the first two posts here). The main difference is that this time, I'll be carrying around 15/20kg more than the other girls. Shit.

At least going back to those posts made me remember that the hotel I'll be staying at in Dubai provides a scale in the room. And to be honest their gym is pretty awesome.

Not everything was good back when I was skinny

 The number on the phone says it's from France but I don't recognize it, so I just pick up

"Lucy Shadow speaking"

"Hello Lucy! It's Ben V! You remember? Do you still speak French?"

I do. I remember Ben V. While he keeps talking, I spend about three minutes trying to remember if I've ever had sex with him or not. Ben V was working in the same firm I was in my first years in Lyon.

I decide I did not, mentally pat myself on the shoulder and start paying attention.

While he proceeds telling me he now works for a private equity fund and that they're looking at an Italian company and he's seeking an Italian advisor, etc etc, suddenly some long buried souvenir floats to the surface of my mind.

I remember a mad night some 14 years ago, a night of drinks, sex, screams and madness. A night I had willingly buried in the darkest places of my mind for a long time.

Ben V rambles on and we agree he'll send me an email. I look up at the private equity firm he works for and spot my favourite client among their credentials, so I take a big breath and call him to ask for feedback. The good news is one of the partners who just joined Ben V firm is someone I know well and with whom I enjoy an excellent professional relationship! Of course he asks me why I sound worried about this, and I end up telling him a "mitigated" version of the story.

Later on, I dig into an older blog of mine archive, and found the post below. Trouble is, names have been changed and I can't place a sure identity on "Arnaud". He might be Ben V or he might be another guy who was friend with Nicolas (again, you'll have to read below to understand). Fuck.

Nicolas was a guy I knew in Lyon that I casually dated over a summer. I was 23, single and... well I don't regret the random sex life per se but sometimes it still backlashes at me.

Coyote Ugly

September 25, 2006

 

The night out with Nicolas finally happened but was… awkward

 

Do you all remember the Coyote Ugly girls? The idea was that coyotes that get trapped cut away the trapped leg with their teeth, to run away. Just the way you would want to do sometimes, when you wake up beside someone after a funky night, and all you wish is to run away without waking him. You know what I mean, huh?

 

Before you misunderstand, we did not do it. Ok, I’ll explain everything.

 

I arrived to the party around 9PM, wearing this innocent/lusty dress I have since college, that never failed to make me get what I wanted.

Nicolas wasn’t there yet, but there was Helene, girlfriend and neighbor of mine, who instantly started to pour me her wonderful vodka sour. One hour (and more than one vodka) later, Nicolas arrived with his friends, not yet drunk but already quite high. I just smiled, and he said “My love, why didn’t you answer me?” I was stunned. Picked up the phone and found a message from him, from two hours before, that said “Sweetheart, I’ll arrive later, shall we meet directly at the pub? Kisses”. I watched Nicolas, and smiled while he was saying “I don’t want everyone to see there’s something between us” just to start publicly making out with me, hands all over me and tongue down my throat.

 By the time we left for the pub, the evening was great.

We were both drunk, but still happy drunk. So, making out some more at the pub, just seemed a wonderful idea. Music was great, Nicolas (who apparently knows everyone no matter where he goes) was introducing me as his fiancé (???) to everyone, including my new junior colleague, who just watched me astonished (and I wasn’t enough shit faced to avoid thinking “MERDE, I’ll have to fix this”).

 When we decided to move to a club next door, the drama started. They wouldn’t let us in, basically because Nicolas was all over me. And then Arnaud, Nico’s spazzy friend, came out from the disco. I tried to persuade them to get in without me, so that I could join them a few minutes later, but by this time it was getting hard to explain things to Nico. And then, Arnaud pulled close and grabbed my breast.

I FRAKED OUT.

I got scared, screamed at them both, and tried to left. They tried to persuade me to move to another club with them, but I wasn’t getting it, Arnaud would not let me go and I realized that Nicolas wasn’t really seeing what was happening. So, when a friend of them pulled over in his car and they got distracted, I slipped away, walked for a while in the rain that had started pouring, managed to get a cab and went home sobbing.

Nicolas started calling me while I was in the cab but I was probably incoherent and he was still drunk.

Fifteen minutes after I got home, I had just got out of my drenched dress and into a nightie, when Nicolas showed up at my place. I buzzed him in, because after all I've had so many great nights with Nico and trusted him to be a good guy. I did think he had not fully grasped what was going on and I just wanted someone to hug me.

When I open the door the corridor was pitch black, Nico was drenched and smiling, whispering soft sexy French words. I stood by to let him in, and in he got. And behind him, Arnaud tried to get in as well.

I slammed the door on Arnaud, he backed out, I slammed the door again on his hand and he started howling and finally I got the door shut.

Shaking, I locked the door only to realize Nico was still in, and Arnaud was out pounding fists on my door.  Cold, miserable and frightened, I burst in tears. Nico started talking to the door quitly "Go away Arnaud. Go away. Why are you here? You were supposed to drop me off and leave. Go away or I'm coming out and beat your face to pulp. Was it you then who scared her? Fuck you asshole. Leave now, or I'll call the cops and they'll find some nice white stuff in your pocket".

That must have worked because Arnaud left. I didn't really want Nicolas to stay but I was to afraid to open the door again, and anyway he slumped on the couch shortly after and passed out.

I slept out of exhaustion, but 4 hours later I had to catch the train at 6:30AM (weekend with parents had been planned long ago). I did not want to wake Nicolas and talk about it, so I just left him asleep on my couch leaving him a note.

 

I don’t even know how the hell will I manage to walk into the office on Monday morning, after everyone saw the two of us on Friday night

Back to present, I decide I can't figure who Nico's friend was that night. I haven0t seen any of these people for over 12 years. I give a call to Ben V boss, say hi, and decide I'll take the engagement anyways. The past is gone and shall better stay forgotten. There will be no going for drinks on this engagement in any case. Any out of office meeting will be strictly confined to breakfast!

one step too far?

No posts.
I'm fat.

I would really really like the best manager I have that works for me to hit on me.

I really really hope that does not happen - I know it will not happen.

I still love my husband, but I am freaking out due to work

workworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkwork

fuck