There's no hugging at work

In my world there is no hugging at work unless that's the last time you will see that person, as in your last day. Even under those circumstances I wait until outside of the office. The Administrator at my my new office sees things differently.

She sort marched in my office this morning to find me enjoying my bagel and peanut butter breakfast treat to hand me my new Blackberry. Some office drama ensued. She's has worked for the Army for almost 20 years; many of those years in the same office. I don't blame her for being a little high strung. From what I can tell she did not expect me to tell her she was being unprofessional. I told her she is allowed to vent, but she isn't allowed to take that frustration out on me. Ever. I signed for my hardware, and she left. I went back to enjoying my delicious morning treat thinking nothing more about her eccentric behavior.

Later that afternoon as I was leaving the restroom, she approached me in the doorway. Startled, I said, "Oh!" and then, "Excuse me." She wouldn't let me by though. Then she said, "I think I need a hug."

Me: Oh well that is not at all necessary. I don't hug colleagues so you don't have to...

Her: Yes, I need a hug to know that we are ok and you are not mad at me.

I tried to reverse back into the bathroom, but then she lunged at me and threw her arms around my upper body, effectively trapping my arms to my sides, and squeezed. The whole thing happened so fast. I was still protesting when it was over.

I need to give her a name at some point

Ryan's mom is visiting us for a few weeks. She has a short list of activities that are on her bucket list. Visiting Rome is definitely one of them. This weekend is a four-day Training Holiday, which means the Soldiers on base have Friday and Monday off. Ryan usually gets those days off as well. I on the other hand am expected to be at work, but Training Holidays are generally slow days for me and I can get a lot done at the office because no Soldiers are around.

I had something important to do with my weekend though. It was a special weekend because last week Ryan bought me a GPS. When he gave it to me he said, "Now you are completely free." He is such a kind man, unless you try to take him shopping. Then he can very easily become difficult. So when he says free he means I can get in my car, program my GPS and go shopping anywhere and anytime I want without his involvement. This is a very BIG gift, and I used it yesterday.

A few months ago I wrote about shopping at the Italian outlets. It was fun experience but, I needed more time to peruse the facilities, and time was not on my side that day. Yesterday with Ryan in Rome I was under no such time constraints. There was one obstacle: The Autostrada.

Italians are passionate people and this extends to their driving. They view speed limits and other driving regulations more as guidelines than laws with consequences for breaking them. This was of particular concern to me because I do not drive very fast. I obey the speed limit and that means the other drivers tailgate me a lot. I have been driving for about a month now and have gained a fair amount of confidence, but I needed reinforcements to get on the Autostrada.

Over dinner on Friday I asked some friends to join me on a shopping trip and they agreed. We started the day early to avoid traffic and crowds. July is sale month in Italy. That means almost everything is half off. Another added bonus is the exchange rate is better than it has been in months.

Driving is stressful, but I made it to the Autostrada and reached 100 mph at one point. I even passed few cars and buses. The route my GPS (I need to give her a name at some point) calculated took me through a plethora of driving scenarios. There were winding roads, bridges, and more than a few roundabouts and gravel roads.

We made it to our destination in about an hour, which is the longest time that I have driven a car ever. Sadly only one item tickled my fancy. A below the knee black, leather skirt with a sheer, pleated rayon panel on the side. It is a special piece. The sort of skirt one wears with a white off-the-shoulder t-shirt with sparkly accessories to an impromptu cocktail hour or dinner party when the temperatures are crisp.

I will always remember that I bought this skirt on my first trip to the outlets in my very own car. I am completely free now.

All about the new job

To say I have entered a new stage in my life is an understatement. Last month I bought my first car, it's a 2012 MINI Cooper S. The S stands for turbo. It's Eclipse gray with all black in interior. In short she's a lovely machine, and I have been gradually expanding my perimeter around the province. I do not have anything to compare the liberating feeling of jumping in my ride and driving wherever I want to go.

And then there's the job. This is my third week at the new job and it has been pretty darn awesome. I have made a concerted effort to decorate my lovely little office. I put up paintings of pink flowers on the wall and a delicious deep, rose pink carpet on the floor. I have two pictures of Ryan and me near my desk. I keep the ceiling fan on low and the lights dim. It is very peaceful. I like it in there a lot.

As for the job itself, it gets more interesting everyday. I became the Installation Health Promotion officer almost by accident three weeks ago. Since I arrived in Italy I received a thorough education in Federal Government hiring practices. There are preferential treatments for everyone except the well-educated, career-minded woman married to a civilian. Ryan receives a plethora of perks, and many of them are extended to me as his spouse, but finding my own way has been difficult until now.

My primary responsibility at my new job is help Army Commanders prepare for the transition to peace time after more than ten years of war. The Army has built an incredible force of warriors. As the war winds down Commanders are faced with the prospect of having highly trained Soldiers with no wars to fight. Trainings and small-scale missions will be part of the new reality, but some Soldiers will transition back to the civilian world. Many will stay in the military. This transition has happened before but, not since WWII has our country dealt with the prospect of an all volunteer force returning home in numbers with a host of physical and emotional problems.

My job is to identify the resources available to Soldiers and their families; promote those resources especially to our high risk populations and help leaders evaluate the effects on the Army bases in Italy. I have my work cut out for me.

A Roman holiday to celebrate

The best way I know how to celebrate an accomplishment is to go to Rome. I was recently selected to be a Department of Energy Fellow. To celebrate we rented this apartment. It was a great location with beautiful views of the city center.

The train ride down from Vicenza was eventful. There were multiple delays, and drunk Americans on their way to Florence. I know they were drunk because they drank straight vodka out of water bottles for the three-hour ride to Florence. Things were quiet after they left.

As planned we met Dr. LeVeness, one of my professors from graduate school for dinner, and my dear friend Denise also from graduate school. She has a dream job at the American Embassy in Rome. No Rome trip is complete without a visit to my friend Carlos' restaurant Baires. We spent the evening reminiscing about the amazing times we all had in grad school. Dr. LeVeness has this amazing gift of making the people around him feel like they are smartest people in the room. It's a lovely gift.

Saturday morning I woke up early to do a little shopping without Ryan. We met up around noon for lunch at Court Delicati. This is supposed to be the best Asian restaurant in Rome. It did not disappoint. It is located a little outside of the city center near the UN, my old stomping ground when I was in grad school. We visited San Giovanni and The Mouth of Truth. Exhausted from walking around in the 90 degree heat all day we stopped for a few cold ones at a bar to decide on dinner.

We settled on Sapore di Mare. It was an average seafood dinner which does not say much I know.

Sunday we met Dr. LeVeness and his colleague Dr. Clarke for a very fancy brunch. Plenty of prosecco and an all you can eat buffet. We stuffed ourselves for hours then said our goodbyes before taking a taxi to our train. Dr. LeVeness will visit us in September. I cannot wait!

Our Roman getaway was just what the doctor ordered.

That in fact did just happen

We have been eating a lot of fresh fish lately, especially tuna. Ryan's preferred way to prepare it is to sear it with freshly ground salt and pepper. The keys to this dish are of course good quality fresh tuna, a non stick skillet and the right amount of salt and pepper. We have been looking for the perfect salt and pepper grinder for some weeks without luck. This morning I took an early morning stroll around town. I walked down one of those cobblestone, picturesque streets Italy is famous for, when I saw a small kitchen appliance store. In the window was the perfect pair of glass salt and pepper grinders. Excited I walked in on two older Italian men talking. They were surprised to see me, and it felt as though I had interrupted something. Undeterred by their surprise, I inquired about the salt and pepper grinders I saw in the window. One of the Italian men slowly gathered his belongings and left. As he walked out I realized I was in this shop alone with what could be easily described as a creepy old man in some circles.

He came around from the behind the counter to show me the grinders. He said they were in the back and motioned for me to follow him. Eager to surprise Ryan with the grinders I followed him toward the back of the store. Suddenly he turned around before I knew what was happening he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into an awkward embrace. I wedged my larger than average purse in between us quickly. He asked if I was married. I said YES and squirmed away from his frail torso. He held onto my arm as I pulled away and looked at me with what I can only describe as a combination of desperation and lust. Grossed out and disappointed, I walked quickly out of the store.

Back on the photogenic street, across from a church I looked back at the little shop and confirmed with myself yes, that in fact did just happen.

I am ashamed to admit this

I like to follow beautiful women. There I said it. I like to follow beautiful, well dressed women around, and today I got exactly what I wanted from her. This is not the first time I have done this. I have followed impeccably dressed women around in New York, Paris, Lima,Tunis and lots of other places, but they never led me anywhere interesting. Usually I follow them until they notice me and I stop or get lost.

Today I went out to pay my cell phone bill because my account was compromised last month and I had to get a new card. This is the first time this ever happened to me. I was walking to the Vodafone store when I saw this dark haired, six foot tall Italian woman. I have seen her before. She's not easy to forget with those legs. It was freezing today, and she was wearing these comfy shearling boots with extra socks and tights and a clingy mini skirt. On top she was wearing a short leather jacket trimmed with fox fur. I wondered how she came to be so effortlessly stylish. She was walking much faster than I was, but I kept up analyzing all the details of her outfit. She abruptly turned into the shoe store on the corner. I never go into that shoe store. There are too many choices in there. I don't want Ryan to ever see me in the rapture of my shoe compulsion..before or after, but when the glamazon walked in there I knew I had to follow. She zeroed in the pair of boots I spotted earlier this week. I went to pay my cell phone bill, and when I came back she was still in the store. I went in and bought the boots. It's not like I had a choice! She watched me strut around in my brown suede boots and asked the shop boy if he was sure they did not have a size 10. He assured her that they did not. I guess there are some drawbacks to being six feet tall.

I came home feeling right as rain with my brown suede, fur trimmed boots. Photos to come.

Another unbelievable day at the office

My work is challenging, but rewarding. I work with victims of sexual assault mostly, but often I help with victims of domestic violence as well. It is a tough job because it is often emotionally taxing. At least once a week someone reminds me that they could not do my job. They shake their heads slowly saying things such as it could not be me.

The fact is someone has to do this job. I happen to have the unusual skill set to do it well. I was a volunteer Victim Advocate for three years in my hometown, New York City. The training was intense, but in some respects that was the easy part. I spent one weekend and one weeknight a month on-call waiting for my phone to ring. As a twenty something New Yorker that is normal, but I was not waiting for a call from a previous date. I was waiting for a call from the Emergency Room of the three hospitals I was assigned to. My job was to go the hospital and advocate for victims who might be too traumatized to do so themselves. The stories I heard were harrowing tales of distress, violence and fear.

Prior to the volunteer experience I was terrified of hospitals, but I knew how to handle myself well under pressure. I thought volunteering in a hospital would rid me of my fear. It worked.

I do not discuss cases here because they are confidential, and I do not want to traumatize my friends with details about my work. Yet, how I ended up in an office with a female Solider in uniform and three other uniformed Soldiers watching her grope me requires some background.

The Army has set up a special office for attorneys who take sexual assault cases to Court Martial. One of these special prosecutors came to Vicenza to interview one of the victims I am helping. I went into the meeting with strict instructions from JAG not to speak during the meeting. I had to just sit there with her, and be supportive without talking. She asked for my help but, I could not answer. So when the special prosecutor asked for my consent to let the victim demonstrate on me how her offender grabbed her I was eager to help.

Before I knew it she was palming my butt with her fingers grazing my nether regions. Talk about a complicated situation. I was not prepared to have her touch me that way. The fact that she did so in front of three men as they watched is a discussion that I could have for hours. I took the appropriate actions after the interview, and added the experience to another unbelievable day at the office.