Drawing the line between journalist and source

It's getting trickier these days. Try as I might, I've slipped a bit from those days when I sent a $10 Starbucks gift card back to a source. And might I add, I only did this after my boss admonished my hastily accepting it with a whiny, "but I looove lattes..."

I've accepted free nights at hotels, buckets of pralines/gift cards/barbeque chips, free flights, dinners, wine, champagne, flattery, you name it. Am I coming clean?

That said, I'd also like to mention that everyone who's bought me things is still under the same watchful eye as those who've bought me nothing (and ps, if this is you it's not too soon to prepare for my August birthday. I am a size 12.)

The problem is that the line between journalist and source is becoming hazier. In the social networking age we are "friends," aren't we? And if we aren't, why in the heck haven't you accepted my Friend Request, Mr. Source? I know I am often troubled as to why I haven't been granted immediate access by editors I've met once or twice at a cocktail party but can't seem to shake that hangers-on from high school whom I barely remember from chemistry class.

What's the answer? How do journalists stay pure in this increasingly sullied climate? I'd like to think I am still that journalist who sends the Starbucks card back, but I'd be lying. It's tougher as a freelance writer, not making a regular salary, not having an editor within eye-shot who can throw me a disapproving glance when I jump with joy at that free $310 a night stay in a King suite. But I will try.

Yes, I will try to send back all invitations to expensive dinners I will not be obliged to pay for, provided my sources stop expecting me to accept. No, that doesn't sound right either. How's about this: I will strive to stay as honest as possible in my reporting, regardless of whether I've accepted a free lunch from said source.

I remember as a reporter covering financial technology on Wall Street, I often charmed my way into the offices of executives all the way through lunch at any number of Lower Manhattan eateries. I got a great scoop this way, and I am sure my boss (a gay male) had no qualms about hiring me for this very reason. Use what you've got.

It's tough enough getting paid at all these days, so why not allow us this one small pleasure. Besides, my creative juices don't even begin to flow until I've had a nice hot soak in a Jacuzzi while sipping free Moet and Chandon.