I know things in my life are out of order when I blog for myself and not work. Sometimes it’s death that bring me backs here, other times it’s my job, usually it has something to do with a boy – but always this space is where I put my thoughts when they are too big for my head.

Last night I covered an event, there was the usual champagne and displays of wealth that go with most newsworthy parties. The four-hour affair not only put food on display but also each of my addictions in rapid succession. The first: alcohol.

I made my grandmother cry last week while talking about a spirits article I was writing. She said she didn’t like the way I talk about liquor and I told her mixology was an art not a gateway to alcoholism. I don’t think that I am an alcoholic, but I’ve let booze ruin my night on more than a few occasions. It’s my crutch, it’s my courage and sometimes it’s even my boyfriend. Alcohol is not a good friend; it’s one of those friends who is fun to hang out with but never responds to text messages and talks shit behind your back. Continue reading