White Lines

In the August issue of Seventeen, Kelly Osbourne talked about her recent stint in rehab, and comments upon the prevalence of drug use among the celebrity set.

"I just want to let people know that if you think any of these blonde bombshells
aren't drug addicts, trust me, they are because I've done drugs with them. I'm
not going to name names because that's not fair, but we all are. I think it's
part of being young, being famous, being insecure with what's happening to you,
and just wanting to be accepted by the people you hang out with."

So lets get beyond the embarrasing notion that I occasionally read teen chick mags that I get free at work.

Reading Ms. Osborne's words, I was thrown back to my drug-addled life in New York. The countless number of nights spent getting high at my bar job, and party-hopping with my posse of boys, and how more often than not, it seemed that every gay Manhattanite was open to snorting some sort of white powder. Nightlife is very heavily centered around drugs, especially cocaine, and I found it increasingly hard to navigate New York's club scene without being offered various powders and pills.

Although there were plenty of times I was glad to accept the offers, the drugs were one of the reasons I decided it was imperative to quit working in bars and needed to leave New York. I didn't want to be strung out anymore. And I didn't want to waste my entire youth in Discotheque listening to Junior. There's gotta be more to life than a bump and making out in the bathroom of Crobar, right?! I mean, thats all some queens have been doing for years, and to them (& and a reminder to myself) I say: fucking expand your horizons ladies. Drop the vial of K and make sure you don't let the drugs prevent you from living life outside of nightlife.

I've been mulling this stuff over in my head lately because it just occured to me how sober my life is now-- and how disconnected I am from any nightlife scene here in LA. I'm surprisingly very content with that- although I will readily admit- I miss the promises of casual drunken/high sex and the VIP status that came with being a party boy.

So it was sorta funny when I read Towleroad's blog and read Boy George's recent arrest for cocaine possession and falsely reporting a burgalry in his Nolita apartment.
I don't know whether or not to feel sorry for the guy.
He presumably called the cops for some reason, forgot to hide his stash of blow, and then got arrested for the whole thing- sounds very messy. Mental note: don't ever call cops when I have a kilo of coke in the apartment.

I'm off to do some holistic organic zen thing- or whatever the fuck a sober-ish person is supposed to do in LA.

Fuck it. I'm going to find my xanax.