Tonight I drank tequila with an anthropologist,a photographer, and a Los Angeles Times Columnist.

It isn't as glamorous as it sounds...they sat in my section, and the journalist ordered a shot of tequila in spanish and I answered back in spanish and it was on- it was something like this

"Hay tequila aqui" (him)

"Si,tenemos Cabo Wabo,Don Eduardo, y Patron"

"Don Eduardo?"

"Yeah, sounds like a pedophile to me" (smirking)

"No, Tio Eduardo, sounds like a pedophile"

"Si, porque tio eduardo gustan los ninos!"

I heard him turn to the table and say "This girl feels familar, she is funny"

Then we made formal introductions.

He was a writer for the LA times doing a piece here. I guess he is pretty famous...
We joked and drank, and he said

"what are you and your big brain planning for the future? What do you really want, because you are too smart for this? You know, your problem isn't lack of ability but being capable of doing anything.

I am not writing all this to brag. More than anything I find it sad that he saw so much potential in me in the first 5 minutes, and I wake up being me everyday and struggle with feeling capable enough to get out of bed.


Things at work have been insane. Things at home have been even crazier. I am too exhausted to elaborate now, but basically it can be summed up by saying:

At work, I love where I work, but the money sucks, and because the head chef is the owner-it can be very disorganized. In a small place like ours, if the owner fights with his wife, it can create drama for all of us. Also, I am waitressing and working in the kitchen-which I love, but restaurants are often divided by FOH (Front of the house-waitstaff) and BOH (back of the house-kitchen) and I just don't fit.

Also, I have no real home.I sometimes stay at the house with my pups-but it is Mr. Gita's place, and he treats me like a leper. Sometimes I stay with MP ( the sweet chef) because he is subletting my old appartment, but ultimately it is his place. I pay rent at another apartment, but I live with a couple, so as wonderful as they are to me, sometimes I don't feel welcome. For months I have been walking on eggshells that were long since broken.

This is the bottom. It has to be. I couldn't survive a low lower than this.