Tag Archives: Traveling

Hometown Holiday Hot Mess. Part One.

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“I AM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!”

“I know, baby,” My Boyfriend said as he reached over from the driver’s seat and squeezed my knee. “But it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I feel sketchy!” I cried, as I doubled over and attempted to take in huge gulps of air.

“You’re okay. Just lay the seat back and try to relax.”

It was the last day of my Christmas visit and we were on the way to SFO from our hometown to drop me off for my flight back to NYC. As we’ve all seen, I am not a good flyer under the best of circumstances but today with the added exhaustion, anxiety and nausea, I was not doing well. At all. I sat up and shielded my eyes as I looked out the window. Sausalito whizzed by, illuminated by the too-bright morning sunlight.

I laid the seat back and closed my eyes tightly. Then I whimpered, “I don’t understand why this is happening.”

“Well, we went big on Friday at Hometown Holiday Drinks,” My Boyfriend was saying. “And then yesterday at Lana’s brunch, you girls were hitting the champagne pretty hard.”

“I know, but I drank plenty of water last night and we went to bed early,” I said. “I should be okay.”

“Well, we haven’t had a lot of downtime overall,” he pointed out.

I opened my eyes and sniveled, “I kind of over-scheduled us, didn’t I?”

He smiled and reached to the backseat. “Here. Take my jacket and use it as a pillow. Try to get some rest.”

I took the jacket and folded it beneath my head. “I don’t feel well.” I looked up at him.

He looked down at me in pity. “Baby, if you’re not feeling better by the time we hit the bridge, I think we should change your flight to tomorrow.”

“But we’re trying to save money for visits!” I insisted.

“I know. But it’s only money. And it’s breaking my heart to see you like this.”

“I think I’m going to throw up,” I muttered.

“I think you’ve hit the wall,” he said.

“I think you’re right,” I replied.

Then I turned over and pulled the jacket over my head.

Continue reading Hometown Holiday Hot Mess. Part One. →

My Ex Comes to Visit. Part Two.

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I often wish I was one of those people who, when faced with a period of uncertainty, would make it a point to get extra sleep, eat nourishing, empowering meals and meditate quietly on how everything happens for a reason and so therefore, there is no reason to worry.

But as we all know, I’m not.

Continue reading My Ex Comes to Visit. Part Two. →

Strut.

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I think we can all agree there’s nothing more tedious and annoying than an artist discussing their ‘process.’ They’ll spout on about their ‘craft’ and their ‘inspiration’ and how they ‘see the world differently’ than the rest of us and then they’ll tell you about the speck of dew they saw on a young leaf that morning, and how it relates to them entering as the new kid in the middle of first grade. Maybe their voice will waver and they’ll get a tear in their eye.

And you’ll want to kill yourself.

So I try not to do that here.

I mean, that shit is BORING.

Continue reading Strut. →

A Brief Pause.

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“Guess what, RJ??” I said, as I skipped into his office.

He looked up from his computer. “What’s up, Trace?”

“Well, I know you like to be kept up-to-date on all things Blog,” I said, as I settled into his guest chair.

“That’s true,” he said. “I do.”

We both laughed then. RJ doesn’t read my blog. This is totally fine, of course. The one time he did, he randomly chose Sanity in Sweat, which is one of my more, um, personal and, er, embarrassing posts. After he’d read it, all he said was, “Wow. I didn’t realize you were such an avid reader.” And then, “And so hungover all the time.”

“Thanks!” I’d replied cheerfully.

He didn’t read any other posts after that.

It’s probably better that way. Continue reading A Brief Pause. →

I Went to Venice. And Amsterdam.

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“This trip will change you for the better,” Sheri emailed me the morning of my departure. “I just know it.” Her comforting words were not having the desired effect. My hands still shook as I pulled out the pill bottle from my carry-on and we taxied to the runway at JFK.

My Practice Xanax Session the previous night had gone well. Although, I’d forced my friend Veronica to stay on the phone with me an hour after I’d taken it to make sure I wasn’t having any sort of adverse reaction. This made no sense of course, as she lives in Portland and there wasn’t much she could do if something did occur. But I’d procrastinated until around 10pm my time because I was so scared, so it was too late to call anyone locally.

I had come up with a number of excuses of why I couldn’t make this trip. I was getting sick, The Cat would miss me too much and stop eating, The Fun Committee was hosting their first event without my expertise. But I knew none of these would be accepted by my writing partner. He had spent a lot of money on this trip, we needed to get this work done for the book. I had to go. So after I downed the Xanax, I looked out the window as the tarmac sped by and then fell out from below us, settled into my seat and said to myself, “Let’s do this.”

And then I went to Venice. Continue reading I Went to Venice. And Amsterdam. →