Author’s Note: The title of my very first post is not a typo. I’m on Day 2. This blog and I are a work in progress. I promise my timely blogging will begin progressing soon.

Backstory:  I’ve been in LA for 8 years. I moved out here to be a movie star. I was young and naïve and dreamy, and never had a pessimistic guidance counselor to explain that choosing to be an actor meant choosing to be an unstable, creative, hot mess. It means getting fired a lot, from a lot of different day jobs, waiting tables at three different restaurants four days a week, using your sick days to go on auditions and spending more time on the 405, stuck in traffic, than in the actual casting office. It means being in your late 20’s and still having to occasionally ask your parents for a little help with rent.

It also means the highlight of your day is coming home to a $4 bottle of wine, or two, and some friendly neighbors, who you spend hours swapping war stories with.  Ay, there’s the rub.

To be blunt: I’ve been drinking a lot lately.

At first, I thought, it’s just a social thing. I live in a great apartment and love my neighbors, so we spend a lot of time sitting around a table with drinks. I figured, if they weren’t around, I wouldn’t drink this much.

But, then there were times when they’d be on vacation or working late, and I’d still find myself in the Ralph’s checkout line holding a bottle of chilled Sauv. Blanc and asking for a pack of Marlboro Lights.

Ok. So it’s not just a social thing. I enjoy it. That’s fine. A lot of adults like to drink after a stressful day. It’s normal, right?

That’s the question I started asking myself. Is this normal?

After a lot of soul-searching and prayer and talking to loved ones and talking to myself, I realized, that it isn’t MY normal.

When I think about how I’ve been spending my time, I can see my 8 year-old self, hitting her head against the wall over and over and over again.

I have big dreams and high expectations, and lately, when I feel those dreams are still unreachable or my expectations aren’t being met, I drink about it, and to me, that doesn’t seem like the right way to do life.

SO… I’ve decided to do something drastic…

365 days of sobriety.

Starting now. (Well, technically I started yesterday. I’m a tardy blogger, remember).

Yes, this means:

No drinking. No smoking. No drugs. (Although the drugs part will be easy. I get sea sick in a bathtub, so don’t even get me started on what I think a handful of mushrooms would do to my vestibular system).

I hope by the end of this year, my 8 year-old self will want to give me a high five.

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