Premise

On December 31st, 2007, I was belligerently drunk off my ass. After we counted down the New Year, through a series of emotional conversations I exploded in a fit of rage. I yelled and cried at an innocent good friend over some mild bullshit that in a few years won’t be important. I staggered home and passed out.

On December 31st, 2008, I was attempting to redeem myself for the awful show that rang in the New Year the previous year. I was throwing the worlds worst party which only a few friends showed up to. We ate cookies and played Rock Band and fell asleep watching Planet Earth as we welcomed in 2009.

On December 31st, 2009, I was in my underwear waist deep in the Florida straits off of the coast of Cuba. I was with my good friends and a bunch of good strangers, all of whom I hugged as midnight past.

On January 5th, 2010, I grabbed one last drink from the Lobby bar of Hotel Tropicoco. I drank my rum and orange juice before hugging goodbye to our new Italian friends, and getting into the cab to go to the airport after an amazing week. As I finished the sugary drink in the small plastic cup I was not fully aware that it would be my last. January 5th, 2010 was the last day I drank alcohol.

It has only been 12 days, but during those 12 days I have been faced with trying to avoid alcohol on 3 occasions, and I already have plans to go out next Friday.

This is my story, my daily struggle with trying to avoid alcohol. I’m going to explore the reasons why I drink, the reasons why I have chosen not to drink anymore, and the reasons why I feel like student society as a whole feels the need to drink.

I hope that 12 turns to 121, and 121 turns into a lifetime, but I am anticipating that the road will not always be clear. So, as already said, this is my story.

Enjoy.

--Fi