Andrew and I spent Saturday night discovering just how low my tolerance for alcohol has really become. Three drinks into our delicately planned evening of sin and debauchery at the eighth annual Fetish Ball and I was already hammered. On Andrew's suggestion, when we left the Ball we headed out to Woody's, one of the premier destinations in the gay-berhood. And we called Anthony to come pick up the pieces.

All day Sunday was ruined for me - ruined I say! The kind of day I had was yet another reminder of why I hardly ever drink anymore. I slept on and off until four in the afternoon, in the hopes of outwitting my hangover, but silly me! My hangover must have lifted sometime during Sunday night, while I was attempting sleep again. And today I feel like I didn't sleep at all while some little sprite beat my body all over with a tiny, sprite-sized baseball bat. Ugh.

So for my birthday this weekend, just like I had originally planned, your favorite girl named Ryan will not be partaking of the alcoholic variety. As the owner of Mr. Martino's promised me a free bottle of Martinelli's Cider for my birthday, I will be partaking of that slightly bubbly beverage instead.

Enough said. I have to go pretend I can make it through Seventy's monthly Board Meeting. Good times had by all, I swear.