I started writing play-by-play posts taking you through the four identifiable quarters of my adventure.
* The V-time, resplendent in expense accounts, “big, important” meetings and lots of FABULOUS product☺
* The She-time with a divine little corner all to myself in Brooklyn, an ultra chic hostess and even dabbling in the XX power of the Upper East side with Red and Abby!
* The Me-time with my MetroCard, my Vive La Pride button and my sunhat ducking into shops and bakeries and petting dogs without asking first.
* The We-time of wee small hours of the morning, foraging for food in bars, laughing so hard someone snorts and the very specific art of being held perfectly in place by one strong arm as the 6 train lurches forward and back all the way uptown from Soho.
But once I was writing it out, it was too much. Too much for you to possibly be interested in. Too much for me to say without talking it straight out of context and distorting what was just right exactly the way it happened. So instead I will give you the minutes. The minutes that have raised themselves above the surface of an already-memorable week like the Braille next to elevator buttons.
Let’s get started, it’s been established now that time is and is of the essence. We'll start with V-time with a late-night lead-in to She-Time.
Tuesday, 6:18-6:20am: Security lines at OHare are silly long. My bag is checked, I have 40 minutes till take-off and am looking at a line an hour long. At a thoroughly off-putting hour of the morning, might I add. But then I remember the far security line. Technically run by Delta, would they let my little AA ticket in if I started taking my shoes off while approaching? With a very wide smile on? Yes. In and out in 12 minutes. She's getting good.
Tuesday, 12:54pm: Lobby of client's building, waiting in front of guard desk to check in. Running behind for a 1pm start. Waiting. Guards are pre-occupied by a tall young man who might have been handsome had I not been getting agitated and I am tapping my foot now. Boss calls our new brand manager Charlie to see if he can get us through any faster. I am now peeking around trying to make eye contact with a disinterested second guard. Boss says "Charlie?" and man in line says "Yes?" into his cell phone. Here's to e-business...may we never actually know who we're working for!
Tuesday, 11:12pm: Plaza Hotel. Wanting the baby blue crushed velvet wingbacks in the lobby then flitting off to look in the windows at Bergdorfs. 5th Ave is so quiet that for several seconds of this minute I am convinced that I am all that's left of New York. It's exhilarating and a little lonely until I look back to see Boss and Colleague deciding who lays claim to a royal violet pair of pumps in the window. There are tassels.
Wednesday, 9:15am: Coffee shop on 45th. Phone is buzzing while I am adding my Splenda into a big "regular" coffee, wondering what it would take to get Chicago to automatically put milk in the java. Jaimeson is being cute but I'm aware of the time difference. His night is ending in its whiskeykiss, Laurel Canyon glory and my day is starting in Midtown Manhattan with big girl pumps on. Counting down days till we can synchronize our cell phones.
Wednesday, 11:57am: Frantically calling Brasserie because our reservations are for noon and Boss decided on a rather generous whim to treat the team to some Guerlain inside the Waldorf. T-shirt says "Will work for niiiice-smelling make-up"? Will work for rent is unfortunately the priority- good thing my new favorite mascara (obsessed actually) is CHEAP!!
Wednesday, 6:45pm: Banchet Flowers in the Meat-Packing District at a different PR firm's event for our client. The venue is gorgeous. We are relaxed because for once it is not our show. All the beauty editors are sipping cocktails and I am shopping their outfits, landing on a belt that looks very TKTC. I tell her so. We start chatting. 10 minutes in I look at her nametag to remind myself of her moniker. _____, Beauty Director, VOGUE. Go figure.
Wednesday, 8:57pm: In a towncar with a wine and beauty buzz, crossing the Brooklyn Bridge. I am ecstatic on the phone with Mom looking out the back window at the city going "I'm on the bridge, I'm looking at the city, I'm in a 'car'...UNbelievable." My driver is laughing in the front seat.
Wednesday, 10:12pm: Patio of Habana Outpost with Jess and talking life, deal-breakers and deal-makers. The same stuff we cover bi-weekly on the telephone as I sit on my kitchen table to get service. I spend as much time ON that kitchen table lately as I do sitting AT it! I have a brain freeze from taking down my frozen mojito. So much better than a slurpy. So much better than a telephone.
Part Two: She-Time & Me-Time
Part Three: We-Time and Home