I got this link from Glamorama-online:
The weekend was great. Me and Stephen went to Brent and Karen's wedding at the Frying Pan. Got to see a lot of people I hadn't seen in ages, including my old boss, Michael Hirschorn, from VH1... he is so awesome. I guess I was exhausted and indulged in the whole "it's not a school night!" thing and had one or two many glasses of the wine. Stephen and I started telling people that we were engaged (mostly for greencard purposes) and I held up a very gigantic faux diamond ring and claimed it as my engagement ring. Nobody batted an eyelash. When Stephen and I headed back home I pretty much fell asleep in the taxi. I guess that long chat with Vivian that we had took a toll on our partying.
Saturday we went to visit my poor friend Anthony in South Jersey for a few hours. Ant broke his collar bone and pelvis bone while riding a motorcycle very fast. He looked great despite the definite internal injury. I managed to not ask him to give me some of his meds. I must say: i'm sort of proud of my restraint. After missing our 9:20 bus back home, we went to see "Pirates of the Carribean" and had to leave during the last 2 minutes as to avoid missing another bus. So if anyone can tell me what happens at the very end, i'd be stoked.
Sunday=Trivial Pursuit with the roommates. Cartoon Tea. Friendhouse Sushi. Carona (oops! forgot it was a sunday)! and the very boring Dandy Warhols show followed by passing out.
So, not exactly what i'd call a "progressive" weekend in "avoiding the sauce"... but one step at a time. Last time i counted there were 12 steps. I'm like, on 2. Back off brothers. Stop threatening the rehab!