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!

What if?

Be careful of what you wish for, my brain whispers me. I know the brain is right.
I seems that, maybe, if everything goes well, blah blah blah, I may be promoted to non equity partner in two months. It's the step before making it.



Allow me a flash-back.
I started working in this specific Big4 when I was 22. I was the youngest, the silliest, the hottest, the skinny bitch who knew nothing but was willing to work VERY hard. I was assigned to a senior manager that we'll call from now on Humbert (Lolita?). He was very demanding, and in the beginning I went home crying a lot at night. Over the following months, B. broke my heart, and although everything seemed a nightmare, Humbert came to appreciate me and supported me at work.
When, not even having spent one year in the firm, I moved to the French office, everyone was angry with me at work, but before I left Humbert called me into his office and encouraged me to keep in touch and to make the most of the experience, and promised I could come back at any time.
Surely neither of us thought that I would come back working for the firm some 12 years later! But that's what happened about one year ago. The firm welcomed me back, and is willing to bet on me. I'm good, granted, but I'm also aware that they need to make female partners, and not many are well positioned as me and my two friends at work to make it :-)


So what am I afraid of?
i) my targets will spike - I know that this year (ending June 30) I'll end up exceeding by far my targets, but I'm cautious about how I can deliver more. Truth is, Humbert (who is now senior partner) is helping me a lot with my sales target. He will keep doing it - if he can. Should the internal political situation change however, his support may no longer be meaningful

ii) will husband be proud enough for me and not feel belittled? This may sound stupid, but hey, this is Italy. My man made it to equity partner - in a Tier 2 firm. Will it be okay for him to have a wife who makes it in a Tier 1 firm?

iii) as much as I want to make it, I know that the partner's daily job is something I like less than my current daily job. I wasn't born to be a salesman, I'm more into the operating part of the job.

iv) Matt, a friend who's one year ahead of me in the process (he'll get promoted to equity partner in June) is now 140kg. That's 308lbs for you Americans. He only uses food to sooth himself, while, let's face it, I am more creative. I (ab)use a mix of a bunch of stuff, most notably wine, pain killers, food, running (less and less these days), and to a much lower extent, drugs. But you guys already know my point: is this sustainable?

Long story short - I'm already planning to rent out Just Cavalli private club to throw the promotion party. I just need to lose weight. And I'm seriously considering a Liposuction.

I'm invincible, yeah I win every single game
I'm so confident, yeah I'm unstoppable today

Wild nights, danger ahead (long post)

The last days have been confusing. Great moments, with lots of fun, and then some melancholy.

And then the BAD.

Let’s start with the good.

I went out Wednesday night with the crew from work. Steve and I walked to the pub together, ordered two beers and just chilled waiting for the others. The weather is getting hotter and hotter: we’re having over 97F in the evening!! (37Celsius)

So we clicked our glasses and soon after I got up because I wanted to wash my hands, and of course colors started fading and I faltered. Steve grabbed me until I was stable again, and stared at me.

“If you are going to drink that beer, you’d better eat at least something, or you’ll end up drunk, embarrassing yourself in front of all the colleagues”

“… I guess you’re right”

So I ate (300Kcals) and I ended up drinking one beer and a half.

In the meanwhile, Alvaro, Mick, Robin and two others joined us, and Steve managed to drink 12 beers plus half of my second. Of course he ended up drunk, got loud and everything, but it was so funny! At 11-ish, Alvaro bended towards my ear and said “Steve’s drunk. And he’s been staring at your breasts over the last 15 minutes or so. If you prefer, I’ll drive you home when we go”

After the pub, we went to Steve and Robin’s place for a smoke. Well, before we got there, Steve (who by the time was veeeeeeery drunk) pushed me in a corner (firmly but gently) and started getting way too close to my lips. I didn’t want this to happen!! Not in front of the others!! But luckily Alvaro stepped in and pulled me away!! Later on he drove me home as promised: he’s such a gentleman!

Anyway, on the next day Steve emailed me early in the morning: Is there anything I should know about last night that I might not remember? S.

LMAO

When he got to work, he was in a bad shape, head aching and everything, but we spent most of the day together, at the desk or at the coffee machine and I told him stories about the night before and we had a blast! I really hope we’ll do something like that next week!

Let’s go on with the BAD.

We have a new intern. Of course, before she arrived, we checked her out on facebook. I immediately noticed her collar bones. The girl must have a BMI of 16 or so. Bad. Anyway, she got here yesterday. The first thing I noticed: she’s so skinny and beautiful. The second: she has a permanent tattoo, stating THE mantra: “Quod me nutrit me destruit”. The third: while I was staring at her tattoo, she was staring at my red bracelet. Fuck.

This can only lead to trouble. The last girl we hired is a skinny puppy who cries all the time and now thinks I’m her new girl-friend at work (which is bad enough). This new one? She won’t last. She isn’t strong enough to survive in this office, but the boys will bring her out with us and everything. As soon as work gets tough, she’ll start crying and spilling her secrets. And she may spill mine as well. I know, I should support her, but the truth is her presence scares me. Let’s hope I’m wrong.

In the meanwhile, I’m leaving for France for the weekend: Boyfriend and I are attending a wedding by a swimming pool. Food will consist of meat, so I shall be able to avoid bingeing (I’m veggos), and hopefully I’ll get a tan.

I was 121.3lbs this morning, and I hope to be the same on Monday!! BMI: 19.26. I want to see an 18.

I love you skinnies, your comments are the strongest motivation ever

PS I’ll start next week’s fast on Sunday afternoon. I think Ancora and Marcus will fast as well, will you guys? Anyone else joining?

I thought I was going to get laid...

…instead they fucked me up.

June 2nd is bank holiday in Italy. I took Thursday and Friday off, and bought a ticket, and planned to visit Boyfriend in France, for a long weekend of debauche (how shall I put it in English? Crap, let’s just say that sex was the main course on the weekend menu).
Instead, an emergency popped out at work, so this morning I left. I’m now in central Italy (east coast), no clue how long I’m gonna stay here (the possibilities range between 10 days and 3 months…).
I didn’t do too badly over the weekend: I was 125.6lbs this morning.
Even though last night, knowing I was leaving, Steve and I got drunk on beers, but before reaching drunkenness he coaxed me into eating French fries. I still stayed below 800kcals, and I hit the gym before going out.

However, while staying here, I’ll have to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with my colleagues. Every day. Possibly over weekends as well. Also, I won’t have a scale while I’m here.
This, my friends, is going to SUCK.

He touched my hair, and instead of slapping his hand, I smiled

Who cares if I binged?
Last weekend was amazing

I wanna live like this forever. On Friday I took the train and Bro was waiting for me at the station, and together we went to pick up my beautiful Vespa. Next week I’ll post a decent pick of it, I promise. I rode it to Bro’s place and I had dinner with his family, but that was okay since I only had veg soup and green salad (no dressing).
On Saturday morning I had a zillion things to do and errands to run, so I woke at 6.30, skipped my breakfast and did everything on my list (yay!), then I drove to my neighbor’s place (aka the sailing club), to meet my Bro. It was such an amazing warm and sunny day! Of course the Neighbor (aka owner of the club, let’s just call him The Neighbor) immediately poured me white wine, and I stayed there drinking (but not eating!) until 2PM.
Bro was long gone, and I wanted to ride my Vespa by the lake, but just one mile further I came across Bro and friends, almost ready to start sailing. The shouted out: “Lucy, come and join us!”, so of course I parked the Vespa, ran to the boat, and off we sailed. I got home after five, slept while sun tanning for 2 hours, threw on a long white dress (spaghetti straps), and headed at Bro’s place for a BBQ on his deck. Soon, 15 people or so arrived, included this guy I had come across at the Neighbor in April, who has these looks:

except shorter, and younger. Needless to say, he’s known as The Pirate.
Now The Captain was running the regatta on Sunday but he did not have his other crew, so he started asking me to join him. The only thing, he didn’t remember me (true, we never talked, but still I was pissed), so I kind of blew him off.
Bro was lovely, he let me skip food without nagging me at all (I only had green salad), but alas, booze has calories.
One hour later or so, we ran out of beer. The kids were sleeping already, and The Pirate, being the youngest boy, was sent out to buy more. After a while, since he wasn’t coming back, they sent me to look for him. I took my Vespa and rode ‘till downtown, where I spotted him buying beer bottles in a bar, so I stopped and waved. He turned, spotted me and blew a kiss. And headed out carrying 20 beer bottles.
“Are you ready to ride, Captain Sparrow?”
He hopped on and said “Let’s go mon amour! Thank-you for rescuing me!”
And off we went, my hair (waist length) blowing in his face, laughing and running away when we crossed the cops! Back at Bro’s place he sat next to me and I had a blast while the others made him believe I was one year younger than he is, and he totally bought it! I ended up promising to sail with him on the next day!
Well, he begged me to drive him to his hotel (he was walking) but I felt too tipsy by that time, so I said no way. Instead I went home to sleep, and woke up early to bake a quiche to bring along at the regatta. Of course I made sure to put ham in it so I wouldn’t eat it!
Then I took the quiche at the Neighbor, and since it was still early, I went out with my kayak for a bit of sport. I came back in time to swim a bit, and when I got out of the water the Pirate had already prepared the boat.

While putting it into the water, some nearby flowers ended on it.

He took one, came towards me and tucked it behind my ear, softly brushing my hair with the back of his hand. I let him do it.

(Usually I hate when people touch my hair).

And off we went! We sailed for almost 4 hours, all the time wearing my bikini, so I got such a wonderful tan!

Again, I had a blast. When we got back there was food (and this time I had a little focaccia) and of course, champagne was running.

I wanna live like this forever. Drinking champagne over the sunset, by the lake at the beginning of the summer, innocently flirting with cute boys, having a blast with Bro and friends.

Of course it had to end, and I decided to leave before the Pirate did, so I just waived him goodbye and ran home at 6. And so here I am on a Monday afternoon in the office. It’s sunny and hot outside, I have plenty of girls nights out planned for the week, but the first thing to do is hop on the scale tomorrow morning and then hit the gym!
Sorry for the loooooooooooooooooooooooong post beauties!!!! Have a nice week and stick to your eating (or non-eating) plans!!

Whenever I'm down, I call on you my friend

As I mentioned in previous posts, I do a demanding job. Demanding in terms on hours (can easily get up to 70 hours a week, up to 90 when weekends are concerned). Demanding because when you spend such an amount of hours every week working in a room with a team of four-five people, it’s insane (let’s face it, it would be hard to spend so much time with the significant other YOU chose, let alone with co-workers you did not choose). Demanding because it’s a male dominated world.

In this scenario, years ago I found out the only way to survive is have one very close male friend within your co-workers. Someone you can talk to when you need to decompress, someone who can advice you when you’re that close to lose your temper, someone who will take you to a quit zone of the cafeteria when you feel like crying in front of the team. Someone to grab an aperitivo with right after work; someone who shares the office gossip with you, who will laugh with you over the events. In short, someone you can trust.
When I used to work in France, I was based in Lyon, but would often work in Paris as well, and in Paris was my work buddy Kevin. Kevin tried hitting on me when we first met, but then we worked our way to a beautiful friendship.
Then I moved to Milan, it took me a while to make such kind of friendship, and then I met Steve, who also happens to live at 5 minutes walking from my place (therefore, extremely favorable location for sharing drinks after work and for walking me home after nights out).
Steve is not the typical guy I get friends with. A bit too obsessed with soccer in first place, it’s really hard to make him talk about himself (read: it takes a few more beers than I can drink on a school night LOL). But when it rains like in these days, and nobody’s up for doing things at night, and I get depressed, Steve is a sure call. So I called him last night and sure thing we hit three bars after going back to his place for a smoke. Yes, I don’t usually smoke, but we both really felt like it, so we just followed the flow.

But even so, Steve does not understand things like the guys popping out I mentioned recently.
Here’s the thing. Back in early 2006, when I had just moved to France, my old colleagues from Italy came for a job training of a couple of days and of course we went out. Among the others, there was this new guy really good looking, that all the girls from my old office talked about. Long story short, I got drunk and brought him home with me that night.
Then we had a short story, I paid him visits in Milan, and it didn’t work out. Sex with him was wild in a way that didn’t fit with me: I would wake up at night with him pushing his way through my legs, and honestly it was more scary than exciting. Anyway, he quickly told me he wasn’t committed and he was only interested in sex. Plus, I also realized I didn’t really like him as a guy, we shared no interests and he basically didn’t do anything outside work.
He pretty much treated me like dirt. The only upside: I was the one lucky bitch that had gotten into screwing the one gorgeous guy of my old office. Blah.
Then he disappeared, got a girlfriend, befriended me on facebook: in short, we haven’t talked in over 3 years. Two days ago I got a message from him (on FB), asking me whether it was true I had moved back to Milan. Of course he went on asking me if I was single, and when I said no he inquired whether I lived alone or not.
Shortly after, he asked me out for drinks, and he even wrote “How come we didn’t talk in so long?”
Now the real answer is “Because you’re an asshole”
Instead, I’m playing the game.
Because I want revenge. I’m a bad bitch, and I want him to want me and to believe he can have me, just to show him that I would never ever even CONSIDER kissing him in the whole rest of my life.
So I’m having drinks with him next week. I need to get skinny by then!!!!

Back to Steve, he happens to know this guy, because they’re from the same town. And I tried to explain him this situation, but of course he did not understand me, because hey, he’s a man after all! But he still cracked me up last night. The only downside, I drank two beers. At least I was still 126.3 this morning.

Lastly, I re-read a couple of ana regzig's posts. I miss the girl so much, and I still wonder what happened to her. I hope so much she just got fed up with blogging!