So, we’re deep into the new year now and already I’m wondering who’s dipped out of their New Year’s Resolutions. Who has shelled out some of their hard-earned cash for that gym membership, pledging to go three times a week and so far has only been once. Which of you has been loading on carbs despite assuring your sceptical family that you were cutting them out for good. Has anyone kept inside those private thoughts? But your resolution for the New Year was to always say what you’re thinking, wasn’t it?
Why is there a pressure for everyone to make a change in the New Year? Surely if you know you need to change something about yourself that much, then you wouldn’t wait for the starting gun of Jan 1st? Ha, sorry for the pessimism!
However, I suppose it’s become a social norm now and I, along with everyone else, have adopted a resolution or two for this year.
You may have heard of the Dry January campaign in which for the whole of the month of January, not a drop of alcohol is touched. My parents decided that this would be a FANTASTIC idea for them, and swept me up in their tidal wave of sobriety. I too, am dry this January.
‘But Lizzie’, I hear you cry, ‘you’re a student! This will never work!’ Ha, you’re probably right! After all, according to the media, all young people do is drink. But this is not all we’re good for, thank you very much, sir.
For the first time ever, I had a sober night out.
This weekend just gone, I hit my Saturday night regular spots with a friend (who was drinking) and experienced the wonders that my hometown has to offer, without the aid of beer goggles. When I’m not at uni, I live in rural mid-Devon, in a small town where the people don’t change and said people are 99% white British. My friends at university like to make jokes on a semi-regular basis about everyone down here being inbred and they all get a kick out of it. I’m just setting the scene for you: it’s the kind where you don’t want to admit it but sometimes rumours are true. Everyone here knows everyone or is third cousins with Reg from the shop that used to be a bank and before that it was a pet shop next to the church. These kinds of stories are regular occurrences during my family gatherings and it always makes me chuckle.
This is what I experienced sober.
While under the influence of alcohol, the clubs don’t appear as dated, the prices seem reasonable and the people are friendly. But this changes when sober and the décor is quite hideous, a small glass of lemonade seems ridiculously priced and some of the people seem too old and creepy to be on a night out.
Funnily enough though, this doesn’t set the scene for a bad night out. I very much enjoyed supplying my friend with shots and watching his behaviour disintegrate rapidly from being completely in control of his body to whirling around the dancefloor in a frenzy of elbows and hip-rotations. On reflection, this seems a bit weird, but I can assure you it wasn’t and he had a good night too!
I also enjoyed having a bit of a dance too, but when you’re sober, you still have those inhibitions that no amount of cranberry juice can shake.
I wasn’t a particularly good sober person due to being exceptionally tired, but it wasn’t a bad effort and did the ‘mate, she’s looking at you, go for it!’ eyes at him every now and again, when his furious gyrating caught the attention of a female.
All in all, I had a good time and spend so much less than I would have if I had been partaking in the jagerbombs too. My Dry January is on track to last the month! Winning! We’ll see what happens when I’m out of the comfort and sanity of my family home and move back to Canterbury for my fifth term at university. Updates will come!
Now playing: Forever the Sickest Kids – We Found Love (Rihanna cover)