H-Y-P-E

I've been living in Los Angeles for about a year now, and it's been pretty great. Living on the Westside, I've definitely developed a list of places I enjoy for dining, drinking and dancing: Barney's Beanery for an after-work beer, Palomino's for late-night appetizers, Cafe Crepe for a delightful, affordable French feast, and Zanzibar for a little dancing.

My "spots" have a couple things in common. They are moderately to very affordable, comfortable, convenient and tons of fun without much frill. I always have a great time at these places ... which leads me to the thought, "If it ain't broke, why fix it?"

This is a notion I conveniently forgot in the last week, as I attempted to follow the lead of many of my fellow educated, gainfully employed young L.A. residents and check out some L.A. hot spots. You know the ones I'm talking about, located on or near the Sunset Strip, often with a French-sounding name, a $20 valet and a guest list that you'll never be on.

Last Thursday, I met up with some girlfriends at the Bar Marmont, located in the world-renowned Chateau Marmont, a hotel where famous people who don't feel like having a house live. The Chateau is mentioned 3 or 4 times in every issue of Us Weekly, so it's got to be good.

After a $12 glass of wine, a $18 cheese board, some oysters and french fries (all split between three of us), I prepared to drop about 35 bucks toward the check, though my tummy was growling in protest. But alas, when the check came, we were startled by a total of $505. For 6 girls. All we had was some wine and appetizers! Turns out, a 20 percent gratuity had been added on to our check.

That would have been OK, as it is customary to charge gratuity for large tables. However, at the bottom of the check was a bold, infuriating statement. "Gratuity does NOT include tip."

Has anybody ever heard of such a thing? How is this OK? Is it because we were at the Chateau, and they can do whatever the hell they want? I still don't understand.

Lady in Waiting

For the better part of this last year, I have been in various stages of waiting.

It was a mellow, moseying sort of waiting at first, and then graduated to an aching, hopeful waiting. Only in the last month or so has this waiting turned into an all-out, 24/7 waiting power marathon.

You see, sometime last year, as December 2006 came to a close 2007 began to unfold, I fell in love. Big time. From Day 1, I knew that this person had come into my life for a reason. Let's call him, "The one to keep around." Or perhaps, "The one I'd fly thousands of miles to be with."

And so this year has involved a lot of waiting. Waiting for the next long weekend together, or even the next opportunity to have a nice phone call. Waiting to see if opportunity and fortune could bring us together, or if it would take more than that. Waiting to see if being together and achieving our individual goals could actually go hand-in-hand.

As I write this, it has yet to be determined whether the wait is nearing its end or a whole new chapter is opening up. I could let the waiting and the uncertainty stress me to no end, and frankly, sometimes I do.

But when I take a moment, stop myself and remember what I am waiting for, I usually end up with a calm smile on my face. Because damn, is it worth waiting for.