Slow For Construction.

“What, no post this week?” Marlie texted me last Friday morning.

“Nope,” I wrote back.

:(

“I know.”

There was a brief pause and then I received:

“Will there be one next week?”

I took a deep breath and then slowly typed, “I don’t know.” Continue reading Slow For Construction.

I Have Become THAT Girl.

“Why are you calling me so early?”

“Well, hello to you too,” I said.

“Oh, Tracey. You know what I mean. It’s six o’clock Sunday your time. Isn’t that when you usually write?”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh as I put her on speaker and placed the phone on the butcher block to make some tea. I freakin’ hate tea as general rule but this weather in NYC has driven me to extreme measures.

I JUST CAN’T GET WARM.

Continue reading I Have Become THAT Girl.

If This Were a TV Show, We’d Have A Cake!

Last week was our 100th post.

Since then, I’ve sat here every night and tried to write something creative and interesting that would express how I feel about achieving this milestone.

I started off with a cute conversation between Bree & me during one of our recent catch-up sessions, which then would lead into the revelation. But then I decided I wanted to use that conversation in a later post.

So then I tried starting with a flashback about the phone-date I’d been having with Shannon two years ago that lead to My Boyfriend and I reconnecting, which consequently resulted in the creation of this blog. But that wasn’t working the way I’d wanted it to.

I then crafted a number of other intros, but frankly, they were all crap.

Continue reading If This Were a TV Show, We’d Have A Cake!

Casting Upgrade.

“Happy New Year, Bitches!”

I looked at the Facebook message on my phone, placed it back on the nightstand and then rolled over, pulling a pillow over my head. It was Friday, January 2nd and I was starting the first weekend of the New Year celebrating with a nap with The Cat.

The phone pinged again and I wearily reached over to pick it up. I looked at the screen.

“When do we start running?!”

I groaned, and was about to set it aside again when:

“Helllooooooooo!”

Two seconds later:

“Tracey? McKenzie?”

“Guys??????”

I sighed in exasperation. I turned off the phone and went back to my nap. When I woke up later, there were two more Facebook messages and two threatening texts:

“TRACEY. ANSWER ME. NOW.”

“WE ARE GOING RUNNING.”

Oh god.

It was Lux.

Continue reading Casting Upgrade.

The Best Laid Plans. And A Question.

Recently I received a Facebook message from a friend telling me she was getting a divorce. This is a person I’ve known since Junior High and although we’ll comment on each other’s statuses here and there, we haven’t actually talked in many, many years.

But this is one of the unexpected results I’ve experienced from working on this blog. Because I write the way I do, people feel comfortable reaching out and telling me their stories.

It’s pretty cool.

Continue reading The Best Laid Plans. And A Question.

Hometown Holiday Hot Mess. Part Two.

“Will you at least be nice?”

“Tracey. I am being nice.”

Paul!” I said in exasperation. “You’re acting like you don’t like him!”

“Oh, he’ll KNOW if I don’t like him,” he replied and took a sip of his drink, looking over my shoulder to see if there was anyone less annoying to talk to.

“Jesus,” I sighed.

All around us our friends were drinking and catching up in the patio area of a bar located on the outskirts of our town. The venue had been moved by majority demand and now instead of the small intimate gathering I’d planned, we’d ended up in an expansive space with a band, dancing and a huge outdoor courtyard with heaters and picnic tables. I didn’t mind the change though, because now I felt I didn’t have to be in hostess mode and besides, we’d had a really great turn out so the larger setting actually made sense. Everyone was hugging each other and laughing and taking pictures and screaming, “Oh my god! I didn’t know you’d be here! What the hell have you been up to?!” The Seventh Annual Hometown Holiday Drinks was turning out to be quite a success.

If I do say so myself.

“We’re going to sort this out right now,” I said and grabbed Paul’s arm. I began to lead him to one of the tables.

“Fine,” he acquiesced. “But you might not like what I have to say.”

“Whatever,” I grumbled.

Ugh. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.

Continue reading Hometown Holiday Hot Mess. Part Two.

Hometown Holiday Hot Mess. Part One.

“I AM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!”

“I know, baby,” My Boyfriend said as he reached over from the driver’s seat and squeezed my knee. “But it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I feel sketchy!” I cried, as I doubled over and attempted to take in huge gulps of air.

“You’re okay. Just lay the seat back and try to relax.”

It was the last day of my Christmas visit and we were on the way to SFO from our hometown to drop me off for my flight back to NYC. As we’ve all seen, I am not a good flyer under the best of circumstances but today with the added exhaustion, anxiety and nausea, I was not doing well. At all. I sat up and shielded my eyes as I looked out the window. Sausalito whizzed by, illuminated by the too-bright morning sunlight.

I laid the seat back and closed my eyes tightly. Then I whimpered, “I don’t understand why this is happening.”

“Well, we went big on Friday at Hometown Holiday Drinks,” My Boyfriend was saying. “And then yesterday at Lana’s brunch, you girls were hitting the champagne pretty hard.”

“I know, but I drank plenty of water last night and we went to bed early,” I said. “I should be okay.”

“Well, we haven’t had a lot of downtime overall,” he pointed out.

I opened my eyes and sniveled, “I kind of over-scheduled us, didn’t I?”

He smiled and reached to the backseat. “Here. Take my jacket and use it as a pillow. Try to get some rest.”

I took the jacket and folded it beneath my head. “I don’t feel well.” I looked up at him.

He looked down at me in pity. “Baby, if you’re not feeling better by the time we hit the bridge, I think we should change your flight to tomorrow.”

“But we’re trying to save money for visits!” I insisted.

“I know. But it’s only money. And it’s breaking my heart to see you like this.”

“I think I’m going to throw up,” I muttered.

“I think you’ve hit the wall,” he said.

“I think you’re right,” I replied.

Then I turned over and pulled the jacket over my head.

Continue reading Hometown Holiday Hot Mess. Part One.

And One More Farewell.

“Oh no,” Tina sighed sadly. And she really did sound sad. “Lux was one of my favorite characters.”

I sighed as well. “I know, me too.”

“What a bummer,” she said,

“Well, hopefully she’ll be making a cameo here and there,” I said as I put her on speaker and placed the phone on the butcherblock. I pulled a knife from the drawer and took a deep breath. I was trying my hand ONE LAST TIME at making chicken and vegetables for the next day’s lunch. I meant it this time. This was it. Every other attempt I’d tried had resulted in me bringing my efforts to work and then just abandoning them because they were never any good. I told myself, if I opted for pizza one more time instead of eating my prepared meal, I was never cooking again.

Continue reading And One More Farewell.

A Farewell to Lux.

“You can’t be serious,” Lux said. “You’re really going to see that movie?”

“Oh my god, are you kidding?!” I exclaimed. “I can’t wait! I’ve read each of the books like five times.”

McKenzie interjected, “The Fifty Shades of Grey Books? You’ve read those books five times?”

“Yes! I love them!” I said and tightened my grip on the subway pole to steady myself.

They both looked at me, somewhat horrified.

“Okay, look,” I said quickly. “I know they’re not well-written and the sex scenes are ridiculous and boring but there’s something…there’s something about the story of two fucked up people evolving and working it out.” I sighed. “I like it.”

Lux raised her eyebrows at me. “Okay.” And then she turned to McKenzie. “So, about our running group. I think we should meet at like 6:30am a few times a week.”

“That’s fine,” said McKenzie. “I’ll be running anyway.” McKenzie, who has run the NYC marathon two years in a row and always had some sort of race coming up. On Mondays when we talk about our weekends she’ll say something like, “Oh, and on Sunday I ran eleven miles.” And she’ll say it so matter of fact, not bragging at all, just like it was no big deal.

Then I’ll tell her that the only activity I’d done over the weekend was to take out the garbage.

“Tracey, can you make it uptown to us by 6:30?” Lux asked.

“Oh geez, I don’t know,” I said. “Is it even safe to be out that early?”

“What are you talking about?” Lux asked. “It’s 6:30. It’s not like it’s -”

I put my hand up. “Can we talk about this when we’ve not all had multiple drinks?”

And then they laughed.

But it was that kind of sad laughter.

Because see, we were riding the subway uptown, as we all lived there, after having drinks for Lux’s last day at the company.

Continue reading A Farewell to Lux.

Living, Working & Dating as a 40-Something Single in NYC

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