So apparently I'm no fun.

I don't drink.

Well, okay, on very rare occasion, I will imbibe, but when I say "very rare" I am not kidding. That's why I get ridiculously silly after a single drink: my tolerance is virtually nil.  And when that drink has three shots in it instead of the anticipated slightly-less-than-two? Anyone who saw me the second to last night of RT this past April can probably testify that it's quite a sight.

But in general, alcohol and I are little more than passing acquaintances, and this, apparently, means I am "no fun." Even though my aversion to the devil's sauce makes me a built-in designated driver, I am clearly a dark cloud of boooooo hanging over any get-together. It's not like I turn up my nose at other people drinking. I don't have some religious or health reason that keeps me from partaking.  It just ain't mah thang, yo.

The thing is, I don't really like alcohol. Beer and wine both make me gag. Mixed drinks are wonderful except for that rather unpredictable habit of suddenly and without warning making my internal organs feel like they're full of knives. I don't get sick, it just hurts. A lot. That, and the feeling of being intoxicated is, quite honestly, rather unpleasant. I'm a control freak, and feeling like I'm no longer in control of my faculties is significantly more alarming and terrifying than fun.  Oh, and there's also that one occasion in my younger days when I decided to actually get trashed, and that evening's festivities culminated in a much older man telling me that he wanted me to go home with him and that I looked like his fifteen year-old daughter. Ew.

So, rather than spending the evening either doubled over, on the verge of panicking, or terrified I'm one drink away from being hammered enough to let some lecherous creature touch me, I simply...don't drink.

"But that's no fun!" a friend said not long ago. "How can you not drink?"  Or, more to the point, "How can you stop at only one? Don't you want to have fun?"

Quite honestly, as I've observed others over the years, I've long wondered why people do drink, especially those that do so heavily. It's not that I turn up my nose and think someone's less of a person for drinking, I just honestly cannot fathom the point of it all, particularly when it goes beyond "a drink or two with dinner" to "Drinking" with a capital "D".

I mean, seriously?

Think about it.

What exactly am I missing by not purchasing ten dollar beverages, behaving in ways that wind up on YouTube or Facebook, hooking up (were I single) with people I wouldn't have touched without beer goggles, having to rely on someone else to get my drunk carcass home because I can't drive, vomiting at any point in the evening, and then waking up wishing for sweet, sweet death because Advil won't touch this headache?  I swear, from high school onward, whenever I've heard people talking about nights o' boozing, whether it's a party or just out at a bar, there's always someone who passed out somewhere and woke up wishing they hadn't, someone who became physically ill, and everyone wound up feeling like hell the next day. Then of course there's the apologies to designated drivers, party hosts, spouses/partners, and friends who were on the receiving end of out of control behavior, lewd advances, and a digestive tract that's violently shifted into reverse.

That kind of "fun" simply isn't appealing to me. And besides, I make enough of an ass of myself when I'm sober.  Believe me, I do not need any chemical help.

I am, however, a very willing designated driver because I want my friends to get home safely.

I also have a camera phone and a YouTube account.

No fun, indeed...