Tag Archives: Blogging

Piece By Piece.

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I love working on this blog. I really do. Through this project, I’ve made new friends, strengthened relationships I already had and made contact with people all over the world. My life has been enriched in ways I never could have imagined.

I consider it one of my greatest achievements.

But one of the challenges of writing this blog, is that if I’m going through something particularly painful, because I write in real time – I have to publish it right away. I’ve found that if I hold onto posts, they start to clack around louder and louder in my head and it makes it harder for me to move past the situation. That is the reason I posted three times back to back last week. The situation with Jonathan was difficult for me and I knew if I tried to stagger the posts, it would make it very hard to let go of it and move on. That is also is the reason why I am posting this today. I’d rather not think about that night anymore.
Continue reading Piece By Piece. →

Wrapping It Up.

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Her message flashed at the bottom of my screen. “Why don’t you just make something up?”

“Hmm…,” I typed back. “I don’t know about that.”

“Why not?” she wrote. “It could be the kind of thing where the blog is based in truth but that some details have been altered.”

It was Saturday night and I was supposed to be working on the Venice Book. Instead, I was Facebook messaging with Tina. Continue reading Wrapping It Up. →

Date Three. Part Two.

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“You clearly didn’t think this through, did you?” asked Archie.

“Noooo,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “No, I didn’t.”

He sighed.

“What’s going on? How was the date last night?” Lux appeared at my desk. She was holding a large Starbucks coffee and was still wearing her coat.

“The date was amazing,” Archie answered. “Like the best stranger first-date ever.”

“Really??” she asked. Her eyes were shining.

“Yes,” Archie continued. “They bonded over comedies from the 70s and their love of cheese and talked about her Fitbit and talked about their families and even have a lot of similar goals.”

“He even asked to see a picture of the cat,” I said sadly.

“And he’s totally allergic and doesn’t like them. So that’s a big deal,” Archie said. He took a sip from his own large Starbucks coffee.

I looked down at my thumb and picked at the smudged polish. “He said he’d just take Claritin.”

Lux shook her head. “So I don’t get it. What’s with the face? This is all great!”

“He’s asked her out again and sent his personal email.”

“And?”

“It’s – ” Archie started.

“It’s got his full name in it,” I broke in, pointing at my laptop screen, which displayed Bradley’s message.

“Oh good,” she said. “Did you google him?”

“Of course I did.” I rolled my eyes at her. “And he’s exactly who he says he is.”

“That’s the problem,” said Archie.

The realization set in and the mood darkened.

“Oooh,” she breathed. “And you can’t send him your email because it has your last name and he’d google you and see the blog.”

“Exactly,” Archie said with resignation.
Continue reading Date Three. Part Two. →

Breaking the Fourth Wall.

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Usually I hate it when bloggers devote an entire post to speak directly to their audience. Nine times out of ten, it’s to sell something or ask for donations or beg people to share/repost their site or something equally annoying. I’ll roll my eyes and click out immediately, sighing in judgement. I’m a bit more sympathetic now as, having seen a little of the (surprisingly extensive and brutal) world of blogging, I more understand it. But still, I don’t like it.

Today, I am breaking my own rule. Continue reading Breaking the Fourth Wall. →

Sometimes, It Just Is What It Is.

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“So what’s going on with The Crush, Trace?”

“Oh that,” I replied, as I pulled a rumpled denim shirt from my suitcase.

“Yeah, that.” His voice was tinny, as I had him on speaker. It was New Year’s Eve and Zeke had called to check in. He and Boomer were visiting his family in Oregon and I was in NYC unpacking from my California Hometown Holiday trip. “You seemed so into it. And then we never heard about him again.”

“I found out he was seeing someone.” I smelled the armpit of the shirt. Had I worn this? I couldn’t remember. Continue reading Sometimes, It Just Is What It Is. →

Beware of the Wordsmith. Part Four.

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“So, when it snows we don’t come to work, right?”

Stan gave me a quizzical look. “No,” he said slowly. “We still come to work.”

“Oh,” I said and offered a strangled, fake laugh. “I know. I was just joking.”

He frowned.

Fuck! What was I thinking?! How could I ask such a stupid question?! This was New York City! Of course people went to work when it snowed. It wasn’t like Los Angeles where a light sprinkling of rain would shut down the city and you would break your dinner plans. Continue reading Beware of the Wordsmith. Part Four. →

Beware of the Wordsmith. Part Three.

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When I was 16, I was an exchange student to Japan. There were a lot of incredible things that transpired on that trip, such as – I lived with a Buddhist Priest and his family in a house attached to the temple, got to attend a Japanese high school and, since my small fishing town did not get a lot of visitors, people took my picture everywhere I went, chanted my name when I entered a room and strangers gave me presents. It was like I was Britney Spears. Continue reading Beware of the Wordsmith. Part Three. →

Beware of the Wordsmith. Part Two.

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“I guess it’s a good thing I got more wine.”

I opened my eyes and lifted my head painfully. I tried to figure out where the voice was coming from. And where I was. Slowly I focused in on her and the room surrounding her, and it all came back to me. I was on the couch. In Nicole’s living room. At her house in San Diego. With an almost empty wine bottle on the coffee table next to me. I rolled away from her, trying not to cause my head anymore trauma. I was using her dog as a pillow and he shifted his large, comforting chest beneath me. I snuggled into him.

I could hear Nicole move to the kitchen. She was home from work, so it must be around 6pm. I wished I hadn’t woken up. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry,” I said. I closed my eyes again.

Running the span of Manhattan, East to West, is 57th Street. You can literally take a bus on 57th from the East River all the way to the Hudson. Not that John and I ever took the bus. We took cabs, like civilized people.

It had been a little less than a year since we’d met on that sound-stage. And as promised, we’d both traveled back and forth to see each other until, eight months into the relationship, I’d sold my car, gotten rid of my apartment, said goodbye to my agents and moved to John’s townhouse in Michigan.

A few months later, he was transferred to the NYC office of his agency, which had been all part of the plan. Once we arrived in New York and were set up in the company-paid-for luxury 57th Street apartment with multiple doormen, rows of elevators and a huge, marble lobby, I was to revive my acting career and spend the rest of my time working on the sorority book. John didn’t want me to get a day job – he said I didn’t need to since he made enough money to support both of us. This was a good thing as, although I’d made a very lucrative living as a commercial actress, my union had been on strike for awhile and work had been lean before I’d left LA. I was running out of money quickly. I was really happy at that time. I was engaged to the man I loved, had my days free to myself and man, oh man, did I ever love New York.

So you see, Shannon? Things really were awesome. Just like I said they would be.

🙂

Continue reading Beware of the Wordsmith. Part Two. →

Beware of the Wordsmith. Part One.

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“Guess where I am!” I squealed, as I flopped backwards on the luxurious bed, still managing to hold the phone to my ear. The white, plush, down comforter puffed up around me.

“I have no idea!” Shannon exclaimed. “Tell me!” Shannon was my best friend from high school and I’d been dying to tell her my news.

“Shutters! Shutters on the Beach! In Santa Monica!” I rolled over to my stomach as the phone cord wrapped around my chest. It was 2003, so land-lines were still pretty prevalent.

“What are you doing there? Is there something going on at your apartment?” Confusion made her voice sound wary.

“No, nothing like that.” I sat up quickly and began to untangle myself. “I met someone,” I breathed. “I MET SOMEONE.”

“What? Who?!”

“His name is John and he’s funny and smart and successful and cute and creative and awesome!”

“Wait – what?” Shannon said.

“He looks just like Luke Wilson!” I shrieked.

“Tracey-,” she started.

“Did you know,” I said, as moved to the balcony to have an illicit cigarette. Smoking is not allowed literally anywhere in California. “That half a grapefruit for breakfast here is seven dollars? SEVEN DOLLARS.”

“Okay, stop,” Shannon said firmly. “Start at the beginning.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, and lit the cigarette to try to calm myself. “It was a few weeks ago and I was shooting that car commercial and…” Continue reading Beware of the Wordsmith. Part One. →