The Rose in the Lily Pond

(It’s been pointed out to me that pregnant woman have to go NINE MONTHS without alcohol, another valid and necessary reason for birth control if you ask me.) 1) Expect it to be hard. If you are anything like me and drank most weekends, and had a drink most evenings, then going cold turkey for a month is going to be tough. The hard spots will hit you at the most random of moments. You will probably expect Friday and Saturday nights to be hard, but when you have a rough day at work and your boss is riding you as if you are sea biscuit , you will probably crave a large glass of wine! Just crack open a spirilina my friend, and know that you can do it. You will feel proud of yourself once the month is over. 2) Get a group of friends to do it with you. My friends were great. Danielle and Gavin jumped on the bandwagon and detoxed with me, and so did my Mum. It really helped because we planed sober events like board game nights. I know some friends wont be supportive of your effort ...

Home stretch baby! Day 23, one week to go! One week to go! And I’m not counting down the days at all… It’s not like I’m planning a massive night on the 1st of July, and I certainly haven’t just purchased a case of Kim Crawford Sauvy blanc that was on sale for 6 dollars a bottle. This week has been relatively easy, I haven’t craved a drink at all I don’t think. Two things has happened that are worth mentioning. Gavin texted me to play cranium and drink spiralinas! We were all looking forward to it, maybe even more so than a night of drinking. We all had a hilarious time, although we did comment on how much more fun we could potentially be having had we been drinking. Danielle talked about how boring she felt not drinking, in her profession, there is a fridge stocked with an endless supply of ciders and beers, and employees are pretty much encouraged to drink. Slightly ironic that I work at a bar yet my work mates, are so supportive of my decision to give up alcohol for a month. LO...

Wow, turned the channel to Juice Tv, and the lyrics I heard was “Hungover, I’m hungover..”. Pretty sure the actual lyrics were, “Over, I’m over you…” So day 15, half way point in my one long and lonely month of being sober. To say that alcohol hasn’t been on the brain, or that I don’t miss it sometimes would be a lie. I think the age old saying, “you always want what you can’t have” doesn’t just apply to Dan Carter, but also when you try and give something up. I went out to dinner with my flat mate last night, and we got offered to take a look at the wine list. I reluctantly replied no. A glass of crisp and fruity sav blanc would’ve gone down a treat. The table across from us were drinking Monteith’s original, and a glass of beer has never looked so sexy. Served in an ice cold long glass with an inch of white and frothy head on top. Desire works in mysterious ways. Sometimes I think that this month would be easier if I was in a serious relationship. Looking back on the relationships I...

I wondered who I would be if I didn’t drink alcohol, and I might of very well of been an astro-physicist had I lead a straight and narrow lifestyle. I’ve put down the booze, and picked up Stephen Hawkins’s “Grand design” book that has been sitting on my book shelf making me look smart for the past 6 months. Even though I only understand about 25 per cent of what he says, if I can understand 25 per cent of how the universe came into existence, then I will feel quite fulfilled. Let me try and explain what I’ve learnt so far… The way that we understand the world at present is based on classical scientific theory that particles travel in a straight line, and there destination is predetermined, but quantum physics changes the way we understand everyday things because it says that particles do not travel in a straight line, but instead in waves, they take every possible route simultaneously and their end destination can’t be determined, suggesting that past present or future are not determin...

Right that’s it, my liver is shouting at me, enough is enough! My friends are starting to joke that I should leave my “mates” at home, you know, 10 decibels louder Rose. Arrogant Rose. Dead to the world the day after a hard night Rose. Mostly though, mostly the reason that I want to be sober during the month of June is to prove that I can do it. To prove to myself that I do not need a drink, that I’m not addicted, and can give it up if I needed to. Since my awkward teenage years where we’d drink cheap n nasty Kristov vodka and orange juice and end up puking in the rose bushes, I can’t recall a week that I’ve gone without a drink. It’s so ingrained in my way of life, that I feel awkward when I’m in a social situation and I do not have a drink in my hand. When I was younger this would be at a party, however as I’ve gotten older this extends to going out to dinner. It’s not only that I feel awkward, but it’s also that I enjoy a glass of wine with my meal. I also enjoy shedding the layers...

Furious film making alright. 48 hours to write, shoot, and edit a film is not an easy task, and just as you try to weave conflict and turning points into your script, art imitates life and problems arises as 10 amateurs battle to just finish. I’ve only met my team members once. I rock up at Patrick’s flat to start scriptwriting, and I’m greeted by one of Patrick’s flatmates. He leads me to the lounge where a group of people are eating burger fuel, I sit down and engage in playful banter, getting to know my fellow team mates. It isn’t until 5 minutes later I click that this actually isn’t my 48 hour team, and I’ve just sat talking to a group of random people! Slightly embarrassed, I laugh, “I wondered why you guys were so relaxed.” and go find Patrick. Our genre is superhero, the character is an ex bully named Bobby Young, the line of dialog is “What have you got”, and the prop is bent wire. We start to brainstorm. Two girls show up with large bottles of champagne, good to get the crea...

There’s no place like home. At times, when we travel loneliness can gnaw into our core. It can worm it’s way around our bones and plant clichÈs like “home sweet home”. All of a sudden we have an irrational desire for marmite on Vogel’s toast and pineapple lumps. Even if we never ate pineapple lumps in our lives. Loneliness has us blasting Katchifire on our ipods, and dreaming of rugged coastline. It has us calling our mums and old friends instead of exploring our surroundings and making new friends. Yet what happens when we actually get home? After the novelty of eating a mince and cheese pie, washed down by L&P wears off we are left with confusion. When we travel for so long we start to question where exactly home is anymore. Two expressions come to mind: Home is where you hang your hat. An oldie but a goodie and a true travellers philosophy. Home is wherever you are in space and time. Home is where the heart is. Space in time does not matter. We could be on the other side of the...