Last night at Dolce, I ordered the fish special, Sole Milanese over heirloom tomatoes with basil.  The check arrives.  It was $44.  I repeated this fact at least 44 times throughout the rest of the evening.  Forget my two dollars… I want my forty four dollars!  Dear lord.   

After dinner the girls and I went back to Jeffrey’s apartment for champagne by the on demand fireplace and talked about drugs. (I ended up leaving his apartment with a book titled, Cocaine: an unauthorized biography by Dominic Streatfeild.)  "Why do you drink alcohol?  What do you get out of it?"  It seems like a simple enough question.  Some of my friends, when inebriated, become more aggressive, leaving their ladylike upbringings on the plush sofas with their velvet blazers.  The shot might sting but it drowns out her father’s voice, the one telling her a man wants a woman who will laugh at his jokes, who never swears, and who’s a lady on the street but a freak in the bed.  Okay, maybe that’s the radio.  Others become childlike, leaving their worries about work and insecurities about what others think on the bar stool while she catwalks on the bar, giggling, followed by twirls.  I do neither of these things.

I drink because I like the taste of wine, for starters, but obviously, I also drink sometimes to help me relax.  In social settings, I do it because I am guarded.  In fearing rejection and despising disappointment, I short things.  I become anything but an optimist, so the only one who can really disappoint me is me.  I have to stop doing this, be more confident, and begin to trust again.  I feel it most when I drink.  When alcohol enters the mix, I become more okay with showing my emotions and vulnerabilities.  For the most part, I see being emotional as being weak.  I act like I don’t care, "what you want won’t have any effect on me," but of course I do care.  If I revealed myself, you’d know I’m a little puppy inside, all pink underside.   We’re afraid of revealing who we really are to those we care about because we’re all a little afraid of rejection.  It’s why beginning off as friends first can be such a blessing.  Especially friends who get drunk together.  But really, I don’t believe in friends with benefits anymore… I see it as a waste of time.  Be alone; it builds character.  You don’t want to be on the wrong bus when the right one pulls up.

L.A. PHOTOS >>