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April 12, 2006

The Russian

The Russian works on the 20th floor here at Corporate Job, Inc., and I have a terribly misguided crush on him. He couldn't be less interested in me, however, which is ultimately for the best. After all, it's never a good idea to date people from work.

Not that dating is an option. The Russian has a French girlfriend (you French girls and your damn French accents! My Dixie twang cannot compete!), so Jennifer and I have dubbed this the Russian-French alliance, and it's still going strong. But the Russian and I email each other from time to time, in little flurries almost always initiated by me, allegedly to discuss a project we're working on ... but mostly because The Russian gives me hope that there are cute, smart, nice guys still left in the world.

Me: (work blah blah blah) So, aside from the code re-write, how are things?

The Russian: I think I'm going through a midlife crisis.

Me: At 34? You're going through a midlife crisis at 34 years old? What makes you think this?

The Russian: I think I'm trying to grasp on to my lost youth. Involves vodka.

Me: Well, it isn't a midlife crisis until you highlight your hair, grow a goatee, pierce your ears, dump your wife and start a rockabilly band.

The Russian: I see.

Me: Personal experience.

The Russian: I'm already too bald for highlights.

Me: Luckily.

And so on. He's cute in a Eurotrash way that I like, and we're all wrong for each other and he's unattainable and he also prefers waify brunettes. I am not a waify brunette. But I like emailing with him, because little interactions like this make me feel closer to normal. I like that we have the basic ground rules in place: we aren't coming on to each other (he's attached, I would never date a work person, ever, anyway) and we work at a very Business Professional place so email chitchat stays above board. It's safe, and at the same time very pleasant. My mom says I've "opened a window" in my life, that she noticed I've become more open to the idea of allowing someone else in, and that's a good thing. Mostly I like this Russian-Dixie distraction because it helps me forget, even just for a little bit, that Mr. X is right this very minute waking up next to another woman, and he is so moved on it's not funny. And I need to move on, too.

This is a good sign, I think. I used to be in a place where I just kind of stewed in it, with the knowledge that things were going to suck until they stopped sucking. However, I believe we may have reached the cessation of intense suckage. Alert the media! Not to say that I don't think of it from time to time, or all the time, because I do (meltdown Parisian style, anyone?) but truly I love my new life. I'm just as surprised as you are to hear it.

I feel so lucky to have time to myself, time to think, time to regroup, time to plot an invasion ... if not to overthrow Russia, maybe just a nice little French alliance of my own. Or perhaps I could find someone on this very continent to strike up a treaty with. Until then, The Russian is a nice distraction and the State Of The Union here at Chez Dixie is decidedly better than the Cold War era of 2004-2005. Windows are open, even if just a tiny bit.

Maybe my 8th grade English teacher was right. Maybe the South shall rise again.

Posted by laurie at April 12, 2006 9:22 AM