Tag Archives: Smoking

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. →

Smoke ‘Em If You Got ‘Em.

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“I’m quitting smoking,” my co-worker, Archie, announced as we were taking a cigarette break outside the Duane Reade below our office.

“Wow,” I said, as I took a drag. “What brought this on?”

Archie had always said he loved smoking too much to ever stop. “It’s my only vice!” he’d exclaim. Of course, I knew this not to be true.

He rolled his eyes. “Chad says he won’t pay for my plastic surgery if I don’t quit.”

Chad is Archie’s much older, kind and quite distinguished boyfriend. He lives a very healthy lifestyle and doesn’t smoke or drink but always lets the rest of us run around his penthouse and play Flip Cup on his marble dining-room table. I was pretty sure this plastic surgery nonsense was not Chad’s idea. Continue reading Smoke ‘Em If You Got ‘Em. →

When life gives you lemons, send that shit back and demand champagne.

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“I’m sorry I drunk texted you all night last night.”

“Trace? What the hell time is it?”

“Um, ten o’clock here so I guess seven o’clock there?”

“Trace, I don’t care if you drunk text me all night. Drunk text all you want but don’t call me at seven in the morning on a Saturday and wake me up to apologize for it.”

“Okay, um… But do you still have an OkCupid profile?”

“Oh shit, okay. I can see you’re not going to go away. Hold on.” I could hear Zeke pull himself out of bed and move to the bathroom. He clicked the door shut. Then he reemerged and I heard the familiar flick of a lighter to light his cigarette. “Alright, what’s going on?”
Continue reading When life gives you lemons, send that shit back and demand champagne. →