So, being out in the sticks means far fewer interactions with the Hot Old Men in our working life (even the disappointing ones). But Cutie Patootie came to visit (not us specifically), and, boy, is he adorable!
And chatty.
Which does a lot to explain or "is he, isn't he?" dilemma we had a while back. (Apparently he "isn't", and has a long, long-term girlfriend. Of course.)
I'm not sure what it is: bald head, sparkling eyes, cheeky grin or curiously soothing North American voice. But There's Something About Cutie.
In other news, now that Josh's voice-crush has gone, the new Man-in-Charge has, I think, a much sexier voice. Maybe I like North American voices after all. Who knows. But he looks curiously like one of the characters the Genie in Aladdin morphs into. Freaky. Not-yet-a-hot-old-man.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
meeting the One
Turns out Lenny had absolutely nothing to worry about. You know how sometimes you get lucky and meet your fantasy boy/girl, and then the fantasy is broken?
So. For weeks Lenny’s been bugging me to blog about my work date with Hottie McAussie (see below) but something always made me stop short. At first I thought it was work fatigue.
But now I think, maybe, definitely, it’s because the whole experience was a bit um, underwhelming.
Wait wait before you call me ungrateful bitch listen! First, the leadup. On June 4th, Obama addresses Muslim leaders in Cairo and the news is so big that Editor wants me to do a podcast about the significance of this speech.
E: "You should interview our resident expert."
Me: "Oh..who?" (I know the answer already. HM!!! HM!!! I'd dreamt of this day...)
E: "Hottie McAussie*." (my lips tremble) "And do it soon before the news gets too old."
So then I spend the next 3 days hyperventilating and researching who Obama is, where Cairo is, etc. I must NOT sound like an idiot.
The ‘interview’ was set for 10:30am Monday morning, so of course I go in at 9:45am to test all the podcasting equipment 100 times. I'm done by 10am...30 minutes left to potentially faint.
Meanwhile my HM senses tell me he's already in the office, and when I walk around I notice we are in fact the ONLY 2 people in the newsroom (plus recep and an OA). Still, I can’t bring myself to his lair to see if he wants to start early. In fact, I can't really talk. Lenny sms' me telling me to breathe again. I breathe, stop for a couple minutes, breathe again. Spend almost 30 minutes doing this. I know, I know, I’m a grown-up. I’m a REPORTER, for chrissakes.
10:29...I hold my breathe and march over. The marching was overcompensating for nerves. HM looks up and grins, ‘Hullo! Sara, right?’ I squeak “yeah!” and super-casually lead him to the podcast room.
On the way over he asks me how Taipo is and I say something dull like how morale is low.
But but but halfway through talking I can tell he doesn’t care, and suddenly I'm emboldened. Hottie, you may be hot but at least PRETEND to give a damn for 20 seconds.. or don't ask in the first place! HMPH!
10:35...we're settled in the room. I'm not quite as nervous even though he’s sitting right across from me. For the first first time I notice that he is not quite proportionate...his legs are very, very very skinny, his frame is about the size of mine, his head's a bit big. Needs a haircut.
And though Lenny disagrees, I find light grey pinstripe suit/pink shirt combo on a short Asian man a bit too gay.
But hey, not like this is a date, right? I fire away - and by fire away, I mean I barely speak above a whisper as I stare a hole into my page of questions. My voice is so shaky and quiet I actually have to repeat a few times.
Melt a bit when HM reassures, “it’s fine, take your time.” He’d be a great dad.
But then he starts talking and suddenly.....I dunno. Found myself missing Teddy. HM's answers to some basic questions were a bit short and waaay too convoluted for me, let alone a young ESL student, to understand. And he's saying 'um' a lot, and I just feel sorry for CC.
Then when I try to get him to clarify points he looks mildly impatient and I back down. Boring.
10:45am...We’re done, thank god. He runs out before I can pat his head.
So, Teddy and I talked for almost 30 minutes but HM and I are done in 10. That says something. It says that my relationship with HM can never advance past voyeurism.
So. For weeks Lenny’s been bugging me to blog about my work date with Hottie McAussie (see below) but something always made me stop short. At first I thought it was work fatigue.
But now I think, maybe, definitely, it’s because the whole experience was a bit um, underwhelming.
Wait wait before you call me ungrateful bitch listen! First, the leadup. On June 4th, Obama addresses Muslim leaders in Cairo and the news is so big that Editor wants me to do a podcast about the significance of this speech.
E: "You should interview our resident expert."
Me: "Oh..who?" (I know the answer already. HM!!! HM!!! I'd dreamt of this day...)
E: "Hottie McAussie*." (my lips tremble) "And do it soon before the news gets too old."
So then I spend the next 3 days hyperventilating and researching who Obama is, where Cairo is, etc. I must NOT sound like an idiot.
The ‘interview’ was set for 10:30am Monday morning, so of course I go in at 9:45am to test all the podcasting equipment 100 times. I'm done by 10am...30 minutes left to potentially faint.
Meanwhile my HM senses tell me he's already in the office, and when I walk around I notice we are in fact the ONLY 2 people in the newsroom (plus recep and an OA). Still, I can’t bring myself to his lair to see if he wants to start early. In fact, I can't really talk. Lenny sms' me telling me to breathe again. I breathe, stop for a couple minutes, breathe again. Spend almost 30 minutes doing this. I know, I know, I’m a grown-up. I’m a REPORTER, for chrissakes.
10:29...I hold my breathe and march over. The marching was overcompensating for nerves. HM looks up and grins, ‘Hullo! Sara, right?’ I squeak “yeah!” and super-casually lead him to the podcast room.
On the way over he asks me how Taipo is and I say something dull like how morale is low.
But but but halfway through talking I can tell he doesn’t care, and suddenly I'm emboldened. Hottie, you may be hot but at least PRETEND to give a damn for 20 seconds.. or don't ask in the first place! HMPH!
10:35...we're settled in the room. I'm not quite as nervous even though he’s sitting right across from me. For the first first time I notice that he is not quite proportionate...his legs are very, very very skinny, his frame is about the size of mine, his head's a bit big. Needs a haircut.
And though Lenny disagrees, I find light grey pinstripe suit/pink shirt combo on a short Asian man a bit too gay.
But hey, not like this is a date, right? I fire away - and by fire away, I mean I barely speak above a whisper as I stare a hole into my page of questions. My voice is so shaky and quiet I actually have to repeat a few times.
Melt a bit when HM reassures, “it’s fine, take your time.” He’d be a great dad.
But then he starts talking and suddenly.....I dunno. Found myself missing Teddy. HM's answers to some basic questions were a bit short and waaay too convoluted for me, let alone a young ESL student, to understand. And he's saying 'um' a lot, and I just feel sorry for CC.
Then when I try to get him to clarify points he looks mildly impatient and I back down. Boring.
10:45am...We’re done, thank god. He runs out before I can pat his head.
So, Teddy and I talked for almost 30 minutes but HM and I are done in 10. That says something. It says that my relationship with HM can never advance past voyeurism.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
GASP
RIGHT AT THIS VERY MOMENT, JOSH IS SITTING POSSIBLY LESS THAN A METRE AWAY FROM HOTTIE MCAUSSIE, TALKING WITH HIM, LAUGHING WITH HIM, POSSIBLY CARESSING AND STROKING THAT GORGEOUS HAIR.
Jealousy doesn't even begin to describe it. Although I'd probably either trip and fall or just faint. Maybe it's best she does it.
As long as she keeps her hands to herself.
Or not, I suppose...
Jealousy doesn't even begin to describe it. Although I'd probably either trip and fall or just faint. Maybe it's best she does it.
As long as she keeps her hands to herself.
Or not, I suppose...
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Hatred?
I think I hate Josh.
She's going to be shut up in a room with Hottie McAussie for, well, as long as it takes to discuss Obama's mid-east speech. (There's another oldmancrush I could go on about...). I really think I might have to ignore her for a while, get my emotions in check.
So much for missing him. Sly girl.
But at least it's one of us, I guess. Now she just has to work on not throwing herself at him. Very BJD2.
She's going to be shut up in a room with Hottie McAussie for, well, as long as it takes to discuss Obama's mid-east speech. (There's another oldmancrush I could go on about...). I really think I might have to ignore her for a while, get my emotions in check.
So much for missing him. Sly girl.
But at least it's one of us, I guess. Now she just has to work on not throwing herself at him. Very BJD2.
Friday, May 22, 2009
i especially like old men who eat
I'm dying. Teddy has come over 3 times to grab a sammy and fake sausage roll from our leaving "party"...I want to poke his tummy so badly it pains me a little.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
not-a-stalker-no
Is today the last day I'll ever see hottie mcaussie? I mean, he doesn't appear to hang out in any of my second homes (notably LKF). I don't fish, nor do I ever go shopping for crisp white men's shirts.
Anyone have his residential address?
Anyone have his residential address?
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
In defence of older men
Josh is being wooed by a very persistent co-worker, a very surprisingly forward local co-worker, who is probably her age. I'm impressed, actually, by his nerve. Apparently that makes me hateful.
So, as a reminder of why we ogle the older guys:
1. They're less likely to stalk
2. They're more likely to be married already, so you know it's truly fantasy
3. They've probably had years of being ogled, so our attention is like water off the proverbial.
4. Less likely to tell stories about our crushes to put us off them (take note, Young Saboteur).
5. Men of the world don't need to pretend to "fix someone's computer" so they can ogle us!
So, as a reminder of why we ogle the older guys:
1. They're less likely to stalk
2. They're more likely to be married already, so you know it's truly fantasy
3. They've probably had years of being ogled, so our attention is like water off the proverbial.
4. Less likely to tell stories about our crushes to put us off them (take note, Young Saboteur).
5. Men of the world don't need to pretend to "fix someone's computer" so they can ogle us!
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