Tag Archives: California

Skip to My Lou.

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Back in October, when My Boyfriend and I decided to finally give our relationship a go, there was no doubt we would eventually move back to Our Hometown in California. I don’t think we even discussed it. It just was understood. After all, it was where we met, all those years ago in high school, and we adored the town. We both still had tons of friends there, my mom was there, and the rest of my family was close by.

The only thing was – when we began planning the move, the thought of actually leaving NYC terrified me.

The friends I’d made, they were truly my East Coast Family. I couldn’t imagine being without them, meeting for last minute happy hours or brunches, catching up on the critical details of our lives. My cute little apartment, with it’s exposed brick wall and five points of outdoor light that kept it bright and airy even on the darkest thunderstruck days. My fun neighborhood where I’d wave to the shopkeepers on my way to the subway each morning. My company – a place I loved going to, a place I’d laughed probably more than anywhere else. And there was my new role. I’d only been in it for four months so I really needed more time and experience before I could feasibly look for a new job in a new location.

My lease turned over every year in May but I felt like seven months was too soon to make such a big move. It made my stomach cave in on itself to even think on it.

So we decided on May 2016.  Nineteen months. That seemed the right amount of time for me to build my resume, and for both us to say goodbye to our friends and respective cities.

So it was settled. We’d move in May of 2016.

Continue reading Skip to My Lou. →

Hometown Holiday Hot Mess. Part Two.

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“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. →

August 9th, 2013. Part Two.

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“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?”

Tara 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. →

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. →

Come for the Chicks, Stay for the Wings.

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“It was so great to see you guys,” I said, as I pulled my sleeping-bag jacket firmly around me. Everyone hates this jacket because it’s totally unflattering, (“Boxy,” Sheri has decreed). But I like it because it’s long enough that if I wear tall boots, no one can tell I’m wearing my pajamas while I run errands around the neighborhood.

“You too, girlie,” Thalia said. She zipped up her own coat. Cold weather had officially settled in NYC.

“If I don’t talk to you ladies beforehand, have a great Thanksgiving,” said Sean. I moved in to give him a hug and he hugged me back tightly.

Thalia, Sean and I had met for our usual two-month catch up session. Normally, we meet on a Saturday evening at my place so I can wow them with my culinary skills with such menu-dazzlers as, ‘Make-Your-Own-Taco-Bar’ or ‘Make-Your-Own-Burrito-Bar’ or, if I am feeling especially creative, ‘Make-Your-Own-Taco-Salad-Bar IN A TACO SHELL BOWL.’ But since it was almost the holidays and everyone was busy, we decided to meet on a Tuesday. Which meant Hooters. Continue reading Come for the Chicks, Stay for the Wings. →