Her voice lowered to just above a whisper. “Has he…has he killed anybody?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my god, Tracey! Nooooooo!” she cried. “What are you doing?!” Continue reading There But For the Grace of God, Go I.
Tag Archives: NYC
Prelude.
“Hey, I know we texted about this last night but I wanted to actually talk to you about it. Are you really okay with this? I mean, with me writing about this?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Tracey, I’m really okay with it,” he said.
“But you…,” I switched the phone to my other ear and took a deep breath. “You realize that I’m going to tell the truth…the truth about everything.” Continue reading Prelude.
Speed Dating. Part Two.
It was obvious he had taken great pains in his appearance that night. He was wearing a classic blazer over a v-neck sweater. His hair was neatly styled and even his nails looked nice and clean.
“Hi, I’m Ned,” he said and extended his hand.
I took it. “Tracey. Nice to meet you.”
“You are really beautiful,” he said as he sat down.
I smiled. “Thank you. That’s a nice thing to hear.”
“Really.” He looked at me with nervous sincerity. “It’s hard to believe someone like you would need to do something like this.”
I almost answered with a snarky, “It’s because I’m bat-shit crazy.” But I got the sense that Ned was the kind of person who would be hurt by sarcasm. Continue reading Speed Dating. Part Two.
Speed Dating. Part One.
“So you see, it will look like a sphere, just a plain sphere, and then you press a button and POP! Out comes a Bath Pouf Sponge. Or you’ll have a cube, and you’ll think it’s just a cube and then POP! Out comes a Bath Pouf Sponge!”
“Wow,” I said and blinked rapidly. “That is…that’s really innovative.”
“I know,” he said and leaned back in his chair. “We’re currently building our inventory. This thing is going to be huge.” He took a sip of his scotch. “So what industry are you in?” Continue reading Speed Dating. Part One.
I Feel the Need…
“This was a bad idea,” I said to Thalia as our cab rushed downtown. Well, ‘rushed’ maybe is an overstatement. It was Saturday night in Manhattan, so ‘steadily crawled’ might be a more accurate description.
“Why do you say that?” she asked, as she pulled out her lip-gloss to reapply.
“It just was, ” I said and slumped back in my seat.
Tara, our former Summer intern from NYU, who was now a full-time employee at our company, had been sitting on the exercise ball at my desk, when I’d started looking into Speed Dating events. Speed Dating had been the winner of the Reader Poll a few days prior, so I knew I had to get on scheduling it before too much time passed. Otherwise when I wrote about it, people would be like, “Poll?? What poll? What in the Horatio is she talking about??”
I’m Doing it Again.
Remember how I said in Breaking the Fourth Wall how I hate it when bloggers devote an entire post to speak directly to their audience? Usually because they’re selling something or asking for people to share/repost their site or requesting other annoying things? And how I’d roll my eyes and click out immediately?
I still feel that way.
But I’m still going to do this today. Continue reading I’m Doing it Again.
90 Days. Part Three.
I’d always had a vision of how it would play out when I’d meet him face to face. I’d be looking fabulous, perhaps in a pair of tiny black leather shorts, a fitted top that showed a hint of cleavage, yet was still classy, and to-die-for overpriced heels. My legs would be firm, tan and stubble-free. My hair would be long and blowing around me like a Clairol commercial. My makeup would accentuate my features to the most alluring degree but not be overbearing or garish. My nails would do Lux proud. I’d strut over to him to the tune of Christina Aguilera’s ‘Fighter’ and I would get in his face and say everything I’d ever wanted to say.
I’d make him admit the truth. Finally.
As Christina sang out, “Thought I would forget, but I remember. Yes, I remember, I’ll remember!” I’d turn on my stiletto heel and leave him in a puddling mess of his own tears.
As it turns out, it didn’t go as planned.
90 Days. Part Two.
The Team had decided I needed to start engaging more on Social Media. Specifically, on Instagram and Twitter.
“Just post a lot and and hashtag the crap out of everything,” Lux counseled. “This will cause you to come up more often in searches and drive people to the blog. Hashtag it all!” Her voice was rising with enthusiasm. “Become a hashtag whore!!!”
“Hashtag whore? What? Did you make that up?”
“No,” she said and tossed back her ponytail. “But I could have.”
“Throwback Thursdays,” Floyd instructed, as he showed me examples on his phone. Although technically not a member of The Team, I still took his opinions to heart as he was young and socially knowledgeable. “You need to get on that. It’s totally searchable.”
“I don’t have time on Thursdays to do that,” I said with a whine. “That’s when I put up the blog, so I’m busy promoting it and I’m usually tired from editing the night before. Why can’t I just do Flashback Fridays instead?”
“Because Flashback Fridays is for old people,” he replied.
90 Days. Part One.
I was running late for work. Normally, I don’t worry too much about this because: 1) I always seem to arrive before my bosses, and: 2) I’m not entirely sure my bosses actually know what my hours are.
But as I left my apartment that morning, I got a little worried. Continue reading 90 Days. Part One.
Not Quite A Cougar 