Raising Grace

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You know those mornings when you roll over onto your crisp, cold pillow with a slight smile on your face, ready to face the day and then you recall the terror from the night before like a bad dream?  Your blood runs cold and you recall the chaos you may have caused after two too many martinis.  Suddenly, you’re cursing that pleasant morning light pouring in through your window and wishing you could crawl back under the covers.  That is how I greeted this morning.

It all started innocently enough.  Meeting some friends downtown at Spotted Pig for some post work let loose, which turned into at conglomeration of crews at Employees Only, and then somehow, as it always does, ended up a twenty dollar cab ride home from Mr. Purple at 2am.

I feel a brief moment of relief and then the next wave of panic sets in.  Where is my phone?  This is two fold: do I even have my phone?  When I find it, what type of tomfoolery will I find?  I swing my legs out from under my duvet and onto the floor.  Crap!  My feet land directly on the platform heel of my RAYE Lois Heel that I wore the night before on my tour de dirty martini.

After recovering from the shoe related pang of pain, I spot my phone teetering precariously from my lucite coffee table.  I throw myself towards it like a quarterback attempting to save a rogue pass.  I type in my password and am pleased to find no new messages from anyone but my best friend, Phan.  Phew. No harm, no foul.  Just when I begin to release a sigh of relief, I receive an email alert. It’s my boss.  A glance at the email chain and I see that I had some interesting ideas about our latest project last night around midnight.

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No time for crafting up my detoxifying green juice, let alone my normal morning meditation.  A quick scrub of my face, slicked back ponytail, standard black shift dress, and slipping into my Kat Maconie Anna Heels, that have always brought me good luck. I grab my KREWE du optic St. Louis sunglasses as armor and march out onto the street ready to clean up my mess.

xo,

Grace

Mercury in RetroGrace

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I’m looking at my calendar, which I am fanatical about, and I’m specifically staring at the date with a big red star drawn on it.  This is not marking a major deadline or even a hot date, it’s the day that my life will settle down and stop throwing me one crazy curve ball after the next.  This is the day that Mercury goes out of Retrograde.

I know, I know.  I can actually hear some of your eyes rolling.  But for all of those who doubt the power of Mercury in Retrograde, I know there’s an equal balance of you saying, “Mmmhmm.  Me too.”  I’m not some crazy person who bases her schedule around the stars and heaven knows I’ve dated many men whose astrological signs were sure to clash with my own, but I’ve been known to skim the back of Harper’s Bazaar to see what the stars say about the month ahead and I may own a handful of crystal and quartz.  The thing with Mercury is that it has a major impact on communication, which can, in turn, start messing with all aspects of your life from work to finances to friends.  A brief recap of my time spent in retrograde?  Oh yes, I kept account:

  • After months negotiating with an important client, we finally signed off on a contract.  Two days later, their company went bankrupt and announced they’d no longer be needing my services.  There goes all the money I’d been planning to spend on a new pair of Rag & Bone Agnes Boots.
  • The greatest fear of all New Yorkers (other than flying cockroaches): your building getting sold.  My landlord gave us notice that we’d be needing to vacate in the next three months, so I spent the last month scouring the city for another apartment with a closet large enough to house my shoe collection.  Last week, my landlord informed us: false alarm.
  • A stickler for keeping my things pristine, I’ve prided myself on having never cracked an iPhone in the many reiterations from 4s to 6Plus.  As I juggled my iced coffee, Smythson notepad, and cellphone, teetering across Smile To Go in my RAYE Beatrix Heels, I made eyes at the cute barista when some clumsy oaf screaming into his bluetooth (who still wears those?) rammed into me harder than a linebacker during his first pre-season game.  What went toppling to the floor?  Not my iced coffee of course.  RIP iPhone 6Plus.
  • Five blissful months with my beau and one evening after a seemingly cozy fall feeling evening, we strolled home with ice cream from Van Leeuwen in hand, Common Projects Achilles Three Strap Sneakers on my feet, when he decided to drop the bomb that he’d started seeing someone else and hoped we could continue seeing each other as well.  I held onto my scoop of mint chocolate chip and ditched the drip.
  • And if all that wasn’t enough, on my way to a meeting this week, I was feeling quite confident and collected sauntering into the office with my proposal in my freshly manicured hands until I nearly face planted on the conference table as my Pura Lopez Cutout Heels  heeled snapped off.  I decided to make the best of a bad situation and used the heel as a pointer for my presentation.

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I know, it’s a miracle I’m still standing- let alone able to complete a full grammatically correct sentence, but here I am like a beacon of light in my Balmain Embellished Heels.  And if you still think I sound like a wackadoo or you just want more info, Susan Miller does a wonderful job explaining it all right here.

Hang in there guys.  I think Drake said it best, “Just hold on, we’re going home.”

xo,

Grace

P.S. This webpage crashed exactly three times during my writing of this post, causing me to have to re-write it just as many times.