Lessons in growing

Whereas I thought I wrote to entertain myself, apparently there are people who read it because over the past several months I have received a many scathing notes and correspondance and verbal battery from my loyal allegiance, many sounding a lot like "update blondememoirs, bitch." Hey, the profanity is unnecessary. But your point has been taken all the same. I wish I could say I've done nothing blog worthy at all, but that wouldn't be entirely accurate whatsoever. I saw the start of a new baseball season, catching games in Chi-town and Saint Louis, I was abused by some river rapids in central Texas and two stepped to Bill Joe Shaver in an old cotton mill and oldest dance hall. I've been kicked out of clubs in NY for being too drunk (I swear it was the high heels and 18 degrees outside - it had almost nothing to do with the 8 whiskey and diets I drank courtesy of a bachelor party I befriended after being banned from the bar after writing "be nice" in the tip field of the credit card slip). I partied with Winter Music Conference in Miami this March drinking Patrons and blowpops for breakfast and paying the price by narrowly making it through TSA and being really really sick the following week. "You did this to yourself," my senior producer yelled at me in a meeting. Not necessary. I've had weekend adventures galour but it's LA, and my gal pals, I always grow hungry for. So I think I will stay put here for a hot minute.

I went out to dinner last night with some of my favorite people, and while our table was being prepped I sat at the bar.

"What will you drink?," the bartended asked me.
"Oh, something white."

Now let's be clear. I could tell you I said this because I'm some sort of wine conissour, but it was more that I wanted to sound like a grown up, and I was wearing white - and there was an incredible liklihood anything red I'd wear. White it was.

I thought asking for cost was petty, and counter intutitve to the "I'm a grownup having grown up dinner with grown up friends and drinking wine at a bar" look I was going for. So I didn't ask. Our friendly neighborhood dinner cut me no deals, and I won't tell you how much that glass of wine was, but I will tell you this much, it wasn't even filled up all the way to the very top.

Being a grown up has it's way over rated moments.