Tag Archives: Anniversary

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 herĀ 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!

And Celebrate, We Did.

Thalia and Sean laughed lightly together as they hung the NQAC banner on the back wall of the Overlook second-floor patio for our One Year Anniversary Party. Sean was balanced on a chair and Thalia was unspooling wire to him as he fastened it around the nails they’d pounded into the wood.

Marlie and BeaĀ chatted amiably at one of the tables. Marlie was folding the table-tents that Thalia had created which displayed our specialty drinks and announced our prizes. The graphics looked so professional and perfect, it made me shake my head in bewilderment. Bea was unfolding the white paper flowers which were to be placed in the pink cubed vases that would then be set out on the ten or so tables that scattered the space.

Jack and his team from Solerno and Lillet were calmly setting up the the two reception tables. White table cloths floated in the breeze and they weighed them down with their cute tote bags, which were to be gifts for all our guests. They then set up a red-framed chalkboard on which one of the girls carefully wrote out the drink specials.

The mood was serene yet festive, and filled with measured anticipation.

Clearly, no one but me could see the obvious:

WE WERE IN CRISIS MODE.

Continue reading And Celebrate, We Did.

Breathing Room.

“Oh my god,” McKenzie said, as IĀ steppedĀ up to her desk. “How was the party?

“It was so, so fun,” I said.

“Aw, I’m so glad,” she said, then she pointed at the little pile by her laptop. “Thank you for the coasters.”Ā She hadn’t been able to make it to the party because she’d had to go on a last minute work trip. This annoyed us both. So I’d left her some NQAC coasters I’d had made for the event, so she could feel like she’d been a part of things.

“You’re welcome,” I said. “They’re so cute, right?!”

“So cute!” she said.

“I didn’t put many out at the bar because I just wanted to hoard them for myself. Not a very strong marketing plan on my part.”

Continue reading Breathing Room.

August 9th, 2013. Part Two.

“What?” I asked.

“You should…,” Floyd said slowly, as he adjusted our soundtrack. He then looked up at me. “Start a blog.”

“But…why?” I said.

“Because you can build an audience through it and then market the book to them. You’ll already have a set of readers when you publish it,” he answered. He then reached for another cookie.

“That’s the way a lot of writers get started these days,” Emily said, nodding.

“But…but what would I write about?”

TaraĀ took a sip of her large Starbucks. “Write whatever. Write about your life.”

“Hmm,” I said. And then I remembered. “I did have this idea, a long time ago, about starting a blog about dating in your late 30’s in NYC? You know, never been married, no kids, late-in-life dating adventures? Something like that. I was going to call it ‘Not Quite A Cougar’.”

Lux laughed. “That’s funny.”

“I know,” I sighed and gave her a small smile. “Who would want to read that?”

“No,” she corrected. “I mean it’s funny. It’s a really good idea.”

Continue reading August 9th, 2013. Part Two.

August 9th, 2013. Part One.

“Um, hi,” I said and cleared my throat. I clasped my hands in my lap to steady them. “Thank you guys for coming.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve asked you all here today because – ”

“Hold up,” Floyd interjected. He was typing away on his laptop. “Every good meeting needs a soundtrack. Okay…okay,” He continued clicking. “And…BAM.” He hit a key definitively and looked up at me. “Now, we can start.” The room filled with House music.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Thank you. Anyway…,” I started and looked over the group. I realized then how incredibly nervous I was.
Continue reading August 9th, 2013. Part One.

Additional Headcount.

“TRACEY,” Lux said. “Were you nice?”

“Yes, I was nice,” I said, as I opened my laptop.

“But were you POSITIVE?” She took a sip of her Starbucks. This was her third Venti of the day. And well…it showed.

“Yes Lux,” I sighed. “I was positive.”

“Did you talk about The Cat?” asked Floyd from across the conference room table.

“Oh my god,” Lux gasped. “Did you? Did you talk about The Cat?”

“No. I did not talk about The Cat.”

“Well, what was it then?” asked Lainie, as she reached for a bribery cookie. These cookies were the only way I got people to come to these meetings.

“Guys, I don’t know. He just wasn’t into me. Let’s move on.” I had gathered the members of my Social Media Marketing Team in order to brainstorm ideas on how to get a big surge of readers before our One Year Anniversary Party, which was coming up soon. Instead, all they wanted to discuss was my failure with Date Five.

Complete. Chaos.

As usual.

Continue reading Additional Headcount.

The Profiler.

“Not even a bootycall?”

“Not even a bootycall.”

“So you got nothin’?”

“I got nothin’,” I said, shaking my head.

“That’s a damn shame,” said Sean, as he took a sip of his Guiness. “No one to drunk-text.”

“Nope, no one to drunk-text,” I sighed. I took a sip of my Bud Light. “Well, except My Ex, of course. I drunk-text him all the time.”

Sean gave me a look.

Continue reading The Profiler.