Before I let you in on the Boston trip and all it had to offer, I have to share the major drama bombed that happened on Friday.
See, here at my company when a person travels on the company dime, there is a process.
I submit my travel request. It is then sent to my manager. Our travel agency calls and buys my ticket and/or hotel. Manager approves request.
In that order.
Doesn't something up there seem out of order?
Uhm hmm. Ticket it bought and paid for before the request is approved. All the times I have traveled for the company, never, ever has this been a problem.
Because. No. Manager. On duty.
Where this was a delight for me before, Friday it was Hell.
You all know how I have no manager (she's on maternity leave) and with all the recent lay offs, everyone above her in my department is gone.
The next person in chain of command is the company's CEO.
I have been taking the initiative and approving my own vacations and managing my own work. I don't have approval rights for travel requests.
My request has been sitting in my manager's email inbox. The one on maternity leave. UHM...
My trip was postponed due to that upset. I was so pissed. I was thisclose to telling the woman in charge of requests approvals to just call the CEO and get it approved, what better things did he have to do on a Friday?
I brushed it off and went to lunch with the sales team (Group A). Little did I know that my maternity leave manager was meeting us, too.
She has a Blackberry connected to her work email. So with a slight of suggestion in retelling her the drama...VOILA: trip back on.
To the East coast I went.
Holy Moses was it cold! I am an odd one and love, love cold weather. I prefer the weather to reflect what season we are in. Seriously, 80 degrees in January? Who are you kidding, Texas?
I stayed at the Beacon Hill Hotel. It was cozy and okay. As soon as I nestled in my bed, Angel Eyes was starting on TNT. Holla!
At 10:30 AM our Hostess was greeting us for a walking tour that would end at our company's office. Most people would cringe at walking in twenty eight degree weather, not I. Scarfed up and ready, I was down in the lobby at 10:15.
Hostess was there. Before this moment, I have only known this woman from her emails and her reputation, which she was known to be great, very business like, but everyone loves her. Her emails are very to the point and boderline demanding. My picture of her in my head was a woman in her late thirties.
She was my age and the cutest ever. We clicked immediately. Over my ever so cute pink sneakers. And pink scarf to match. And her pink Burberry trench coat. Uh huh. They do it in style, in Beantown.
We headed out and about in Beacon Hill. We stopped and ate at 75 Chestnut. I had the fish and chips. Yum, yum, yummy.
We then continued on to the Freedom Trail. Talk about a ton of historical sites--Paul Revere's house, the Boston Massacre site, Bunker Hill, and the list goes on and on.
After that, I was fired up for some more but that's when we ended at the offices.
My current office is a tad bit out of date compared to the bright and shiny offices in Boston. Unless it was part of their master plan and they shined it all up for us before we came to visit.
The offices are nice.
They looked like those type of offices you see on a new hip sitcom. Flat panel televisions, brightly colored walls, and views of the city to kill.
Then it was time to look at some different neighborhoods. For living choices. This is my downfall.
I love scavenging for a new place to live. I love looking at different floorplans and configuring my furniture into. I love house hunting. I love moving. I love the feeling of a new place for all my furniture. A new address is grand for me.
It's fun for me.
Not for everyone else that was on the trip. Boy, were we with a complaining crowd. Number one complaint: Rent and teeny tiny apartments.
Most of these complaints came from the significant others within the group; not my fellow co-workers. Yes, we were allowed to invite a significant other.
To me, they spoiled the trip more so than anything. Not just with their questions, but their needs to be alone with their corresponding significant other.
Come on, don't you get enough couple time when you are in your prospective towns?
Ugh--this drew me and Hostess closer together. Sadly, this was my master plan...
Let me explain. You know when you meet someone and you just click? You know the two of you will make good friends and get along well. As adults we are passed the sand box age and it takes work--explicit and conspirical work, so that you don't look like a lesbian hitting on that person. It is work making new friends while an adult.
With the significant others complaining and me bustling up with energy to keep going, Hostess came to a decision that we needed to split up and re-meet for dinner.
Go figure, only me and another girl (who was also the only other solo person on the trip) continued on the real estate portion of the day.
Yes, the rent is high and space is limited. Hostess told us some tricks to get around all that.
The day ended with dinner. Khao Sarn was delicious. It boasts some interesting yummy Thai food. Which then lent some complaints from the group, once again.
OH MY GAWD.
I'd pay someone to rid me of these people and their husbands at this point.
Poor Hostess could not catch a break and you could see it in her face.
After, some went on their way and Hostess asked us what we had planned for tomorrow (Sunday). Me, the artful researcher quipped up that I was wanting to find a good brunch place.
Then the bells chimed in Friendship land and she invited me to brunch with her and her friend.
Then the bells chimed once more, once the others left the conversation and bar, she invited me to come stay at her place, if I wanted.
I was reluctant at first because as we all know, Golightly loves a hotel stay. Then the offer got warmer as she went on and said how she'll introduce me to her friends and her husband's friends. Then it got smoking hot, when she disclosed that her husband is Cuban and his friends are hot.
Muy Caliente is what she said.
I was packed and ready in ten minutes short.
Her place was a dream. Seriously, I don't know what Broker found their apartment for them, but I need the number (and their dual income). They lived in an 'hood called Back Bay.
How to describe her husband? He is a boastful, proud immigrant.
He is very, very Cuban and is not ashamed to tell you. His whole family was at their house when we got there.
Brothers (hot), sisters, Aunts, and cousins. It was a circus. I was already missing the hotel.
Then soon I found out that not a one of them was staying there either, whoo, thank goodness for that.
Hostess is probably the whitest girl on the planet. Just to see her in this Latin-dynamic was entertainment enough. She'd roll her eyes at his siters, they'd roll their eyes at her. She'd back talk the mom, and the mom would back talk her. It was funny.
We all went out to some bar. I say some bar because I don't know the name. We had to take the subway to her friends house where Golightly drank a wee bit too much before hitting some bar.
Where the Boston Boys are HOT.
But I did miss Incredible, awww.....
The next day was brunch and football. We had fun making fun of the complainers and party poopers from the day before. Hostess' Husband asked us what we wanted for dinner. Just as FOOD Network's "Everyday Italian" was starting, I whispered 'carbonara'. Neither one had heard of it. Carbonara is my fave pasta dish ever. You have to brave the semi cooked eggs to enjoy it. They were game.
Hostess, her Husband, and I all went to the market. It was like three peas in a pod.
And I cooked dinner. Hostess' Husband re-named the dish, Cubanara because he said I'm Cuban now.
Doesn't it take a lot more than that....like, let's say one of his brothers?