resolutionfree

I have completed the challenge. Although my dedication to the blog hath faltered, my dedication to staying booze free was unwavering. My girlfriend now is going to give me a special Brazilian treat, my friends are still relentlessly mocking me for not drinking and will soon plug this gap with whatever takes their fancy. Phil Mitchell’s agent never got back to me and I still dislike
Orlando Bloom… The world is largely as it was;
London’s a little worse, my health is probably better. I suppose now my liver won’t be used to the alcohol, so it’ll probably shrivel up and die after my third pint.  So net, I’m no healthier.

It really wasn’t much fun, in fact, some of the fun was syringed out of me by it. The journey itself felt more like a sleepwalk than a quest. It showed me that I don’t need alcohol and if it ever became a problem I could stop drinking. However easy it may seem, I’ve seen everyone else who’s tried this challenge with me, break and give up, the stakes apparently too low.

I’ve proved something; I could complete an empty challenge without real consequence. So well done me. 30 days without booze, do I feel different? No. Just a little deprived.

No reply yet from Phil’s agent, I hope he sees me as a pet project in-between his acting commitments. I need him now, last night I had a nightmare about a pint of beer. I was stood by a bar where it sat innocently. Unable to resist a closer look, I reached out and grab the pint and stare at it. The glass is frosty, condensation dripping down its golden sides seductively while the bubbles fizz up. I anticipate the soothing gulp as I move the glass closer to my lips. Just as they touch the glass, I tilt it up and watch the amber liquid slowly ebb towards me, but my ears scream with the sound of a torrent or river rapids down towards my aching, yearning mouth and WHAM! I am awake, cold sweat, it’s 3.13am. Emily is mumbling in her sleep. Guilt sneaks out the door and I return to my covers, but the thought is there now; implanted, waiting and craving.

Dear Phil,

I should start by saying I am not am Eastenders fan, and fairly unfamiliar with your work over the past 5 years. However, before then I used to watch the show quite regularly. So I had some allegiance which might be worth taking into account when you make your decision.

I am currently on a quest, to not drink for the month of January, something which may not sound too onerous but is difficult believe me. Being an atheist I have no focal point to call upon for strength, (one that I know exists anyway), so I have been looking for a talisman to champion my cause. I have been relying on Orlando Bloom until now, but he isn’t really offering me the support I need, and I just don’t think I can count on him if the going gets tough. Plus he has no involvement with alcohol that I am aware of, just dwarves and pirates. You on the other hand, had to go completely teetotal on Eastenders. I remember watching you stare long and hard at your orange juice in the Old Vic, all red faced and pent up with your inner demons battling the drink. So I think to myself, If Phil can do it, why can’t i? even for a month.

So please mentor me, and help me through the darker days that are likely to come

The clouds are gathering

Yours Sincerely

Chris H

I’ve decided to not attempt Kif’s theory yet, Orlando gazes back at me with trust from my calendar. He must thinks I’m doing the right thing. But then he’s on my side because he hasn’t had to help me out much yet. He’s had a pretty easy job as my hero for this experience. He probably feels a bit redundant as a talisman, always waiting for the call. I suppose he is more of a mascot than a talisman, he doesn’t really have a lot to do with drinking. Withnail and I or Phil Mitchell from Eastenders would probably be more appropriate. Orlando probably wakes up in his boxy Californian villa, walks through the whitewash interior to the kitchen bar. There hot butterless toast, a grapefruit and green tea await for him to eat and contemplate the sea view. He’ll then don his white khaki trousers and linen shirt, tie his pony tail up and go for a barefoot run on the empty beach overtaking wild horses as the surf crashes…. What the hell am I doing? That’s it, he’s cut! No more Orlando and his tampon adverts! .As the great, late Tina Turner once said – I need a hero.  But it ain’t Orlando, and Tina isn’t dead yet. I think I’ll ask Phil Mitchell to be my hero. 

It’s official, I’m properly ill. Not even
Orlando could fight this one off. I spoke to Kif to find out how he recovered from his illness so quickly, and the response was as I feared….

Kif swears by a theory which states that alcohol kills off all the germs and bacteria, so if you drink, you get better. So then I see on the front page of the news that mouthwash (which contains alcohol) increases your risk of cancer.. i’m all confused by this existential conundrum. Do I believe the scientists, who have spent their lives studying and training to get to the forefront of their chosen field, spending millions of pounds on research, painstaking hours of testing and re-testing, accounting for anomalies and searching for trends? Or do I believe in Kif’s theory, and with….well,  what he’s got. Scarily I’m starting to believe Kif, and his suggestive proof that I will get better if I drink. Or could there be a third way that nobody has considered yet? What if I drink the mouthwash?

I strike day 10 off

Day 9 – Friday night

It’s Friday night, the record’s in my back pocket but it is India & Joss’s birthday party tonight. I’m feeling confident but I also realise that most of my friends mentioned in the blog will be at the party tonight- and it turns out some of them read it. I thought I’d share some of the various comments throughout the night; either on the blog or about the challenge in general that I had from my friends;

India: ( sarcastically) Oh my god, , you are sooooo much fun. 

Tunstall: Mate I enjoy it, helps me get through my working day 

Kif: You call me stringy and loyal, you make me sound like I’m a dog!

Jenna: I really like it, I laughed out loud a few times and that can be no bad thing. I liked your description of Kif.

Vindicated.

Feds; I think you try too hard and write a little pretentiously.

Sorry old chap, I’ll beans on toast it a bit more for you next time.

Emily; Some I really like, but others just feel like you rushed it and ramble a bit.

‘Brazilian, Brazilian, Brazilian’.

Jenna: I think you’re harsh to write that Gorgs needs a break.

Gorgs has the most liberal of definitions of what harsh is so I think it’ll be fine.

Bean; Mate I’m a fan, I look forward to reading it 

And finally, my personal favourite;

Kif: You make me sound like I’m really stupid but lovable.

Me: Lovable is a good thing.

Kif; Yeah I guess.

Me: And I know you’re not stupid, I mean you got a first at Uni.

Kif, Yes! Why don’t you put that in your blog eh!

Me: Maybe. I’ll think about it.Kif: Did you read my comment about the one with dinosaurs in it?

Me: About the T rex and the Apatosaurus

Kif: Yeah

Me: I did read it yes, but there’s no way you would have come up with Apatosaurus. You used Wikipedia so you’d look smarter didn’t you?

Kif: Or Google, I can’t remember.

On the sixth day God created land animals and human beings, and on the seventh he rested having completed the heavens and earth. But on the 8^th day…..

In the depths of
Alaska, a deer steps on a twig and jumps as it snaps, it looks skyward for meaning.  A shepherd looks over a plain in
Morocco and lights his pipe, he looks at the stars and wonders what they are for. A great white shark off the cape in
South Africa stops attacking a hapless surfer, its cold black eyes look to the surface at a light beam shining down. Its jaws hang open in wonder, and the surfer struggles free and limp swims back to his ravaged board.

Creatures, children, me and women around the world, on the 8^th day the record for consecutive days without drink was broken. That wasn’t over the top was it?

Mine faith hath been restored! If I manage 30 days my girlfriend Emily has promised to get a Brazilian! That’s love right there, I defy anyone to suggest otherwise. I must say I am buoyed, I equalled my record today too. In the evening I meet up with an old pal from uni; a red wine swilling, philosophising, scarf-wearing Belgian named Lebex. I take him down a peg or two by going to a noodle bar, Emily comes too and a barbie doll accompanies Lebex, who likes talking about moronic drinking games. Tonight was not the night we were destined to get on. I zone out and watch her lips move as she talks and hear no words. I see myself, (only more buff) bounding up the steps in
Philadelphia and punching the air like Rocky. I’m literally hours away from breaking my record, I’m excited, adrenaline is pumping round my body- this is it, nothing can stop me now! Unless of course Emily offers up a
Hollywood for drinking a pint.

India is a livewire, and a fun one at that. A Tuesday night party was always going to be more subdued that a weekend mash up- although that will come soon. But a ‘subdued’ night for
India would just about equate to one of the biggest nights of the year for your average street punter. And because it’s fun, it is easy to get dragged into. We all find working a little dull, and
India is guaranteed escapism. So to escape from escapism I have 3 top tips for surviving a night with
India without any intoxication.

1. Find an ally – Mine was Feds, keep the unit tight, act like your faith in not drinking is unwavering  and you’ll pull each other through.
2. Drink Ribena.
3. Talk jovially about not drinking like it’s a huge exciting challenge in life, when you know it isn’t. This was difficult, inside I was crying.  

That said it worked, but I started to feel tempted for the first time.
India in fairness was good, she didn’t try and banter Feds and I to drink, perhaps she’ll wait until Friday when we’re weak and impressionable. Maybe she’ll send out her flatmates Bean and Joss to do a pincer movement and catch us unawares. I just don’t know. But one more day to go until I equal my record of 7 days sans alcohol, just as my commitment is wobbling in the wind. I need more ribena.