Ladies, do you like a good nibble during a makeout sesh? Do you get off on the idea of escaping from the perils of public life into seclusion with your hunk? Do you get hot for precariously messy coifs? If you said ‘yes!’ to all of these questions, and can stand the sight of blood without fainting, Robert Pattinson may be the boy-toy for you.

At 23, Pattinson has set the world ablaze with his vacant, erotic stare that communicates the only emotion I ever need to know: ‘I want to eff the sh*t out of you.’ The hottie shot to fame last fall  for his film role as bloodsucking, sexy vampire Eddie Cullen in the Twilight series. Ever since, ladies aged 8 to 88 have been fainting in the streets at the mere sight of the British hunk, who has been known to instigate spontaneous orgasm with a single scowl.

Most recently, Robert has been making headlines in New York for the legions of girls who’ve come out to stalk him catch a glimpse as he films his new movie, Remember Me, in the Big Apple. Just last week, the effable villain was clipped by a New York taxi cab as he tried to escape the hordes of tween girls throwing themselves upon him in lust. But breathe easy ladies, he’s fine (or shall I say, he’s foyne!).

So, RP, I confess: your devilish grin has inspired me to return to my TigerBeat roots and pin up your photos all over my walls. And refrigerator. And, well, the inside of my medicine cabinet. No facade in my home has been spared from your infinitely effable visage. When you’ve decided you’ve had enough of the tween fandom and want a real woman, come scowl in my direction.

5. A lost wallet and/or clutch. This is particularly disturbing because it is usually the first thing that hits you in the morning, well before you’ve had any time to nurse the hangover you earned. It feels very similar to being on a deserted island that smells strongly of vodka and lime. You are cell-less, cutting off contact with the outside world. With credit card whereabouts unknown and no proof of identity, you are left defenseless against fraud. If you are underage, there is the heavy burden of finding a new fake i.d. The brand new lip gloss and powder from MAC that you inevitably JUST bought are gone forever. Worst of all, your dear, loyal, and perfectly fashionable clutch will never be wedged into your armpit for pictures or table dancing ever again. R.I.P. Limited edition Coach Python and Boucle clutch. You will be missed.

4. The guy you went home with. Okay, last night this guy was h-o-t! He was witty and charming and so attentive to your needs; not once did he let you have an empty glass! Whether you met him at the pre-party, the bar, or on the way home (never a good sign), this dude – who seemed like a great idea at the time – is now nothing more than a big (or worse, tiny) mistake. Often, this error in judgment will use trickery and promises of rides on his family’s yacht to get you home with him, but come morning all he can offer is a ride home…if you’re lucky. High-tail it out of there and head to the nearest health clinic to make sure all he has given you is a bad memory.

3. Bar-Dancing Induced Injury. An injury caused in part by your favorite jam is highly unsettling; it feels like betrayal. Unfortunately, though, being hammered enough to hop on the bar and shake your shiz with the shot girls is begging for disaster. One minute you’re on top of the world (bartop) doing the drunk girl dance; the next, you are falling in slow motion into a sea of A/X clad gentlemen. While that group of guys was immobile for the last 5 minutes trying to look up your skirt, they have swiftly parted, allowing you to fall directly onto the floor. So much for chivalry. The only up-side to this drunk-tastrophe is when the bar staff take pity on you and set you with straight shots of Ketel One.

(Note: This mishap will always occur a day or two before a major event (like graduation) where you will then be forced to explain your injury to your grandparents.)

2. Hitchhiking. Only the biggest and baddest of theme parties (and the most alcoholic hunch punch) can inspire such stupidity. The problem with being both extremely intoxicated and too impatient to wait for a cab is that it often results in severe underestimation of distances, which can lead to the (incorrect) assumption that everywhere is within walking distance. While you saw nothing wrong with stumbling down a busy street’s sidewalk dressed in lingerie, angel wings and 4 inch pumps on a 38 degree evening, a kindhearted stranger did. He rolled down his window and had you at “Um, are you okay? Can I take you somewhere?” After hopping out of his car and wastedly thanking him (and God for letting you make it out alive), he sped off into the night with your angel wings.

1. Getting Arrested. While it seemed completely appropriate to hit on the hot young cop outside of the bar last night, this morning all that attraction has turned to regret. Despite his insistence that he was working, and that you should probably run along to the nearest Taco Bell and head home, you couldn’t resist to ask “Why, is there a plobrem occifer?” Cue his disgruntled and older partner to walk over, demand I.D. and arrests you for being drunk in public. Those hilarious comments about “ASS-aulting an officer” and your demands to have “Officer McChiseled-Abs” cuff you instead probably didn’t help your case, either. Use your one phone call wisely, because if you call your still-groggy girlfriends in the morning, they will most likely be laughing to0 hard to take you seriously.

My third day of not drinking proved to be yet another day filled with self realization. I did more things that I haven’t done in a long time…and I have to tell you: I’m really proud of myself.

I spent all day in the recording studio laying down tracks for my new solo project. Guitars, keys, bass, vocals…everything. Although it’s kind of taboo for singers to drink in the studio…I can’t remember the last time that I recorded vocals without drinking beforehand.

Considering I had a pretty endless amount of money to spend on the recording and whatever expenses I incurred throughout my recording day; it was hard to not abuse the budget by buying alcohol. It was even harder because of this:

There had been a party in the studio where I recorded the night before. Someone left an unopened bottle of Grey Goose there. And there was cranberry juice already in the house. There were assorted six packs of beer left over. And bottles of wine everywhere. On any given NORMAL day for me, I would have been in Heaven. And you know what else? I would be in the studio again recording today to wrap up everything I didn’t finish yesterday. YET, because I was sober, I got every single track done.

I stayed admirably focused throughout the day and when I was brought a “Cranberry and Sprite” to drink…I only fantasized that there was some of that Grey Goose in it for…less than five seconds.

When the night finally wrapped up, I CHOSE to take a cab home. I used my brain and logically decided to spend the money….opposed to my typical: “Hey! I’m drunk! I’m not taking the train!” idiotic reasoning. When I got home, YES, I did want to unwind with a beer. But I kept my promise to myself and just watched Family Guy instead.

Today is Easter. Religious holidays are always grounds for drinking for me…so, seeing how today unravels should prove to be interesting.