It was a gorgeous, sunny day on the Peninsula rooftop in Beverly Hills; we were poolside enjoying champagne and each other’s company. We had closed another chapter on the stressful life I had lived for several years. I was starting to breathe again and we were falling in love. Coincidentally, some of our friends were there and we spent the afternoon talking and laughing, something I hadn’t done enough of in the last year. As the late afternoon turned into early evening, I was confronted with making a choice. A friend had called John to see if he wanted to go to Colorado on his jet that evening. He invited me to join him for a weekend of bike riding (I was training for a century ride.) The only thing I was staying in LA for was the “nose party.” Hmmm. . .private jet to Beaver Creek with the man I am falling in love with or a nose job unveiling party. . .you decide.
And besides, as Kennedy later asked me, “Why are we celebrating Kim’s nose?” I mean honestly, if I went to a party for every friend that gets a plastic surgery in Beverly Hills, I would never sleep.
When I saw Kim at the White Party, she acted as though I missed her wedding. Seriously. . .there is nothing appealing about watching someone remove bandages from their nose. I am a grown damn woman and I do not have to explain my relationships, the depths of them or “when I am going to see him again” to anyone. I lived through five years of stress and spent the last year angry at the world unable to pinpoint why. I now understand that is part of grieving but let me tell you it sucks to be “Angry Spice” all the time! I was starting to feel like me again, the old me, long before my marriage began. I was reminded of how happiness could feel and I didn’t need Kim Richards’ approval, still don’t.