Veni Vidi Vici

The returning day from my Rome trip, a melting of work and pleasure, saw me tired and hungover, as witnessed by the telltale lack of makeup and bright purple undereyes. You would never be able to tell my eyes were blue because the glare of my purple undereyes were akin to some Miami guy's neon blaring souped up Camaro. I left Thursday for work. We had a late dinner with all the international lawyers, and then one nightcap and off to bed. Last year saw me have multiple night caps and in bed very late, but solo, after having a long conversation with one of our international lawyers, Beglalux. Not this year. I had a presentation tomorrow which I had not prepared for but for writing bullet points on slides, and I wanted to avoid a conversation with Mr. Italian Playboy that would have ended with me shunning his advances and insisting that I had to be alone in my hotel room. Or not, depending on my mood. Truthfully, I just couldn't bothered to be seduced.

After a few fishing comments about whether I had to work on my presentation after dinner, to which I responded yes, IP left and I went to my room. I had a horrible nights sleep on a bed that had rigor mortis.

The next day at our stunning offices in Rome, which are old apartments still owned by Italian nobility, the seminars went on all day. Not being hungover this year, I found my attention solid and energetic. My seminar presentation went really well. The new French lawyer guy, hot but unfortunately married, came over to me at the end to compliment me on my delivery skills. It makes you feel very good when someone you do not know takes the time to deliver an honest compliment.

Having a glass of exquisite Italian wine on Saturday in a Ossteria with my friend Fliss who stayed the weekend with me, accompanied by her friend Tam who was in Rome because although she knew Fliss for years she was now the girlfriend of a German lawyer at the meeting, I had an overwhelming, almost tear flowing, My God This IS MY Life Thank You Jesus moment. It often happens to me when I meet people who are or are also related to PWDTWTL – people who do things with their lives. Wanting to be close to this scene was a reason for moving to Europe. Tam was a stranger to me, but she was comfortable catching up with Fliss in an honest way in front of me. I found out that she had gone to a three month sabbatical and travelled over the far east doing cleansing/spiritual/yoga camps; she works in Germany, is English, runs a firm in Germany and her parents are moving from one foreign country to another because they want to. I find this fascinating because I come from a place where people rarely contemplate life decisions made on this type of international scale. I did, which is why I moved. At times, walking across the Thames, I have London moments, where the absolute beauty and ambiance of this city hit my core and overcome the many negatives that work to grind you down, daily. This was an International Moment, where appreciation of the experience wells up in you.

To celebrate my Moment, I was inclined to purchase some sunglasses at Fendi: the really big kind with the bling on the side so that when I wear them I might be (mis)taken for a D list celebrity with a hangover. Here I come Dover Street Market! I also bought a black belt at Versace (or Versa-Cheese). It was a man's belt but the width is not really big. I liked it at the time but upon experimenting, I have not convinced myself. You have to be flexible to not be a fashion victim, but even the best of us have our Unfortunate moments.

Rome as a city has sensuality and passion oozing from the cobblestones; the same cobblestones that caused me to trip with a staccato like frequency even though I was wearing large square heels. Tripping is just a talent I have regardless of city. A trip to rome sans passion derived scandal would be like a trip to rome without some gypsy kid trying to sell you roses; not happening.

I was to go for a drink with the IP before my dinner with Flis. I found out the IP was having dinner with BelgaLux lawyer on Friday. But the IP didn't invite me. Or, actually he did but he conditioned it on just being me and I said that cannot happen because I am there with colleague/friend Flis for the weekend, and she and I were a pair not to be broken up. So he said oh well, it would have been nice to take you out. Read, it would have been nice to get some (amore). On Friday at the end of the session we are talking about meeting for drink and I say that will be nice, and by the way have a nice dinner with BelgaLux, I am sure that will be fun. Not being Anglo, he didn't have the ethics to look abashed but just said I didn't want to go out to dinner with the other people in your group. I said, it is only me and Fliss, not the other. But then, you never asked me IP, you just assumed. Hours later I meet him for a glass of wine near hotel, get my quota of compliments, and then we parted, he leaving to meet his other group consisting BelgaLux, his friend and some Italians. but we weren't invited.

I had spoken to BelgaLux who wanted to see Fliss and I at some point. He was staying the weekend and a male friend from his home had joined him. Reading between the lines, the two have relations. Both of them also have female partners and children. The next night after a text dialogue, they meet us for dinner, the booking having been made by the IP on my behalf (I also got bought a bottle of wine to take home, so at least I received some perqs for just being me). The four of us have a great time, and I find out the IP, after leaving me, picked up his Italian girlfriend who snuck away from her husband. Scandalous. That night we consume bountiful amounts of wine, grappa and then cocktails, and marvel at the scandal (without judgement) that they are together but also keep down full time jobs, parenting and heterosexual significant others. Because I want to be everyone's NBF when I drink too much, and they are not enamoured of my city, I offered to show them London next time they visited. The next day upon arriving home, I had a text from BelgaLux saying how much fun he had, and he hopes to see me in London soon. As with my Versace belt, I may have made an oops. This is one area where I don't want to experiment.