Category Archives: Sober City 2015

Sober City Redux: Epilogue

  

*

*

During my recent (and way-too-short) visit down south, I started writing a new blog post in-between taking countless pictures of the beautifully gothic Louisiana oak trees, and enjoying countless world class musicians and Bourbon Street Bloody Marys. The post was about being yourself and me being Canadian and trying to be American or something like that like, but I decided to shelf that one for now and do a little epilogue to Sober City Redux instead. As I announced in my last post, Sober City is in the process of becoming Dazy Mojo and switching from a blog about me not drinking to a blog about whatever the hell I feel like blogging about. In light of that upcoming (albeit somewhat slight) shift, I feel like a quick recap of my post sobriety-breaking adventure in The Big Easy is in order. Spoiler alert: It was awesome. 

First off, I kept true to my word and held off imbibing until April 1st, which provided me with two full days of vacation sobriety. Vacation Sobriety, as we all know, is the Jar Jar Binks of sobrieties. It’s primarily enjoyed only by children and most people over 20 do everything in their power to forget it even exists. Regardless of this, holding off on the booze for a couple days was easier than I expected. Turns out crawfish boils are just as delicious as I remember even without the frosty Abita Amber cooling the heat. This didn’t really surprise me so much as provide me with a good reminder that booze can be good but it’s not the thing that makes the good. That last sentence was brought to you by Third Graders. Third Graders: “Making write good. Good writing make good.” 
Secondly, once I did have that first drink again after three months, it was no big deal at all. The skies never filled with rain clouds of whiskey, the sea level never rose to Captain Morgan proportions, and I wasn’t visited by the ghost of John Belushi with a never ending bottle of Jack Daniels cascading down his “College” sweatshirt. I had a glass of red wine while reading Tom Robbins in the Louisiana sun, and it was perfectly perfect. That’s it, that’s all.
Now don’t get me wrong, I didn’t just have one glass of wine on April 1st, tip my hat to Emily Post and retire to my drawing room in quiet reflection for the evening, but I also didn’t dive face first into Bourbon Street for Hurricanes and Hand Grenades either. Truth be told, I definitely drank more over the course of the trip than I would have had I not been in the greatest city on the planet for live music and world class cuisine, but I definitely didn’t overdo it and I have zero hangovers to prove it. That’s the whole point of it all really. “Have fun. Enjoy life. Don’t get hangovers.” I’m pretty sure Gandhi said that or something. 
Anyways, all is good in the Joe camp and more goodness is coming your way soon if you so choose to keep following along after Sober City is but a speck of dust in the rear view mirror of the Internet. I’m getting pretty excited about DazyMojo.com and I hope it actually materializes into something fun and consistent. I’ll be posting various new songs as Dazy Mojo very soon as well, so get ready to be bombarded with some smooth polka-jazz infusion sprinkled with a hint of death metal. Am I joking? Am I serious? You’ll just have to wait to find out. Until then, I’m joking. They’re just regular old Joe MacLeod songs written in German and sung in Inuit throat singing as always. Top 4040 here I come!
*
*
JM
Advertisements

Sober City Redux: Day 90 (+1)

  

*

*

90 days. That’s how long I spent on the good old proverbial wagon we all know and hate. Currently I find myself sitting outside a Lafayette hotel with a glass of Merlot and a Tom Robbins book in sun soaked Louisiana. The wine is decent, the book is amazing and the moment is nothing short of perfect. Perhaps the perfection of the moment is the sum of all it’s part or perhaps it’s just the Louisiana sun playing right into my hand. Either way, it’s a good day to be alive. As I type these words into my some what shackled Canadian iPhone, I can’t help but wonder what the future holds for me. Sober City has come to an end once again but new life has taken root in this artist’s soul and I’m ready to blossom these buds into a whole new adventure. As I said before, this blog isn’t ending with my sobriety, it’s beginning a new, and I finally decided on how it will proceed. Dazy Mojo. 

Some back story. I used to be in a band called Day Theory (aka the greatest band in the world) when I lived in Vancouver from roughly 2002 to 2004. I’m pretty sure the term “Glory Days” refers directly to a small island tour we did in Nanaimo, BC or maybe one of the countless post gig sessions hanging out at The Roxy Burger on Granville Street. Confidence reigned supreme in the Day Theory realm and faithful followers were in ample supply. It was at some point during this time when Dazy Mojo was born. The band was scheduled to appear on a local TV show and I had this brilliant (read terrible) idea to show up to the studio in character announcing that Day Theory couldn’t make it and we would perform in their place. Nobody knew who we were of course so this plan was flawed from the start. We came up with a fake band name by combining all of our first names (DAve, JesSE, MOrgan, JOe) and taking some creative license with spelling. Thus Dazy Mojo was formed. Luckily we bailed on the idea before they recorded our segment but our ridiculous mismatched persona is forever immortalized in clips on YouTube (link not found). 
The name basically died that day save for some infrequent inside references and what not but I continued to use it in my private life for go to online handles and the like. Recently I started using it more and more and I suddenly realized how personal the name is to me and also how perfect it fits. Dazy Mojo basically means “shaky confidence”. It’s one of my defining struggles that I’m sure I share with a lot (if not all) of you reading this, so what better title for this blog? Welcome to DazyMojo.com
For now I’m just redirecting my wordpress site to that address but a proper website is in development and will be available as soon as I get it presentable. In the meantime, I’m taking this whole Dazy Mojo thing in all directions. In light of my last post pertaining dust on my guitar, I’ve managed to not only start playing again but I wrote 4 new songs with a bunch more in the works. I’m super excited about the direction my music is headed and I’m going to be using Dazy Mojo as my new musical persona as well. All good things. All Dazy Mojo. 
So I bid a fond farewell to Sober City and a generous how do ya do to Dazy Mojo. I’ve written it more than enough times already to burn it into your brains so I’ll leave it where it is and hope you all keep paying attention to the weird things I have to say. Once again, thank you for all the love and support and thank you for indulging me in my wacky nonsense. I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Cheers!
*
*
JM

Sober City Redux: Day 85

  

*

Blogging is hard. I mean it’s not climbing Mount Everest hard or sitting through an entire Jeff Dunham special without screaming hard but it’s still hard. Mostly because coming up with things to talk about on a semi regular basis in a semi entertaining fashion is tricky. I suppose the more you have to say the easier it becomes but I’m finding it increasingly difficult to write enough of anything worthy of posting anywhere. Nevertheless, I press on for that sweet, sweet manufactured sense of productivity blogging inevitably rewards me with every time I hit “publish”. I want it. I want it now.

So…topics. Weight loss? Inspirational reflection? Playground maintenance?  I got nothing. This Starbucks is clearly suppressing my creativity with it’s smooth jazz and limited seating. I should think about writing somewhere else. My couch? That seems as good a place as any. You wouldn’t know this as a reader but two days have passed between “…writing somewhere else,” and “My couch?”. Not even a new paragraph to indicate my change of writing venue and date on the calendar. Smoke and mirrors of blogging in full effect. I’m a god damn writing rebel. I’m also currently incredibly sad and anxious for no legitimate reason what so ever.


It’s like every time I go through a period of feeling awesome and happy and content with my life, I inevitably wake up one day and hate everything all over again. Maybe hate is a strong word but I need a little muscle in my vocabulary from time to time, I haven’t been to the gym in ages. So as I sit in my present state of habitual disarray and anxiety riddled nonsense, I type words with my thumbs into a tiny device meant for communication to communicate things to a community of communion in hopes of a little commonality. Cheap therapy and creative clarity. It’s mostly selfish but not entirely. Sometimes just saying things out loud (or typing them) is all it takes to free yourself from the relentlessly oppressive burdens that poison our minds and encourage our bad habits, getting us that one tiny step closer to inner peace. You get it right? Sure you do. See? I feel 3 percent better already. 
Anyways, this will most likely be my last post for a while as I cut this whole Sober City thing short (or at least put it on pause) at the three month mark. Lessons will be learned, leafs will be turned and life will go on as it tends to have a habit of doing. Thanks for all the likes and comments and thanks for giving me a place to sort out my psyche on a semi regular basis. I’m sure future scholars and anthropologists will one day pour over these blogs and mine them for all the countless gems of wisdom buried within every line to better understand the human experience of the early 21st century. That or you know, watch cat videos. See ya’ll soon!
*
*
JM

Sober City Redux: Day 70



*

I’m kind of shocked at how much a shave and a hair cut can boost the old confidence producing machine. I mean I had all but completely written off my personal confidence machine (patent pending) as of late and chalked it up to shoddy workmanship and out of date software. Turns out all it needed was a little spring cleaning. Too many hairs clogging the drain apparently. Mustachioed ones specifically. Anyway it’s been an exceptionally good week and I have nothing to credit that to except a clean face, a new haircut and a confidence machine that seems to be in working order once again. Granted it’s still running primarily on a 2003 operating system (benchmark year for confidence machines as it turns out) but at least it’s doing something. I know it’s working mostly due to the influx of selfies magically appearing all over my phone and social media. It’s not vanity when you’re still emerging from the primitive muck of depression and self doubt. It’s progress. 

So this is all well and good but I still have a Sober City blog going on for some reason so I suppose I should post something about booze already. After two months sober I can report some minimal weight loss and more than minimal monetary gain. I almost forgot how much money I save not drinking. It’s never not awesome getting the check at the end of the night and almost always needing change back from a twenty. Thanks zero dollar water! That’s a point in the pro sober column for sure. A point in the pro drinking column though? 3 dollar beer at Sneaky Dees on trivia night. Also water is boring. This ties in to one of the biggest issue I have with not drinking actually; It’s boring. That isn’t to say people who don’t drink are boring or that you can’t have fun without alcohol in your system but it just doesn’t personally feel like a part of who I truly am.
Now obviously, drinking every day and getting drunk every weekend isn’t part of who I truly am either and I definitely have a tendency to lean towards that dark side more often than not. I could blame growing up on the East Coast of Canada where drinking is as common as music and seafood; I could blame being raised on the road by my musician parents, hanging out in bars with waitresses before I could talk; or I could simply blame my high alcohol tolerant Scottish blood but the truth of the matter is that none of those things are to blame. I’m super proud and thankful for my past because it made me who I am today and the only thing to blame for any negative behavior or over indulgence is self control and more importantly for me, self confidence. 
See, when that good old self confidence machine is pumping out the goods on a regular basis, alcohol just simply isn’t an issue for me one way or the other. It’s during those shitty terrible times of self doubt and depression that alcohol stops being a part of who I am and starts defining who I am by underlining all the worst in me and diluting all the good. Abstaining from it entirely works for sure and no one is ever going to make a compelling argument in favor of drinking over not drinking but it really doesn’t have to be all or nothing. Not for me. Not right now anyway.
So 70 days sober and still going strong(ish). I get the feeling 3 months is going to end up being the length of this self imposed sabbatical from the adult beverages and hopefully when the time comes I’ll be able to carry on with self respect and a new found perspective on my life. I just gotta make sure I keep that God damn confidence machine upgraded.
*
*
JM

Sober City Redux: Day 64





*

The mustache is dead and I’ve never felt better. As far as blog headlines go I can’t seem to think of anything better suited to my current state of being than that. It’s exaggerated sure, but there’s definitely some small stream of truth babbling somewhere underneath. Me having a mustache was a terrible sick joke that I let go on way too long and I apologize to all friends and family involved who somehow miraculously managed to put up with and accept this bizarre imposter that was masquerading as their friend/family member. You guys were all troopers. Well done. 

Anyway, now that Evil Joe has been righteously murdered by Cece Chum: The Garrison Barber From Queen Street (no relation to Sweeney), I feel much more like the good old Joe we all know and recognize. So what now? What comes next? Well first of all, I need to give you a proper update to Sober City. My last post was admittedly a little subversive and seemed to put off a fairly negative and somewhat defeatist vibe so I get that I’m well overdue for an actual update. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not apologizing for the last post because it felt honest and necessary but I know I haven’t really properly posted about “Sober City” for over a month now so here it is: I’m bored with the whole thing and I’m 95% sure I’ll be ending the self imposed sobriety in April. There you have it. Alert the media. 

This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop blogging. If anything, I’m hoping to ramp up my efforts and start posting more without the restraints of solely focusing on how abstaining from alcohol affects me and how I feel about not drinking. There’s plenty more to blog about than that and I’m still going to have lots of struggles and experiences to discuss (like we all do) whether I’m drinking or not and if people feel like paying attention to what I have to say, I’m more than happy to continue sharing.

Now I know this could be interpreted as a failure on my part and if some of you reading this feel betrayed or let down in any way I’m truly sorry. I know some of you are following my journey while going through your own struggles and I hope you stay strong and keep fighting the good fight regardless of what I decide to do. We all have our own paths we need to take and even though yours may look different than mine, we can still all help each other get to where we need to go. I’m just trying to keep it a hundred over here and right now change for Sober City is definitely on the horizon.
In the meantime, I’m still not drinking and I still feel great but when April rolls around I’ll be heading back down to Louisiana for a much needed break from the punishing frost demons of Toronto and something tells me those crawfish boils and zydeco bands are gonna make me a little thirsty. I will be spending some time on Bourbon street after all so anything is possible. Stay tuned you filthy animals. Laissez les bons temps rouler!
*
*
JM

Sober City Redux: Day 56

*

Apparently, I have nothing to say. Blank screens. Blank pages. Out of date blog. My intentions were sound at one point I swear. I’m not sure what happened. Nothing, I suppose. That’s the point I guess. I still haven’t had any alcohol since my last post so there’s that. I don’t feel like I’ve lost any weight in the two months (almost) since I’ve stopped drinking so there’s also that. I’m bored most of the time and feel like writing about all this is becoming an impossible chore that I’ve almost all but completely lost interest in, so there’s also that. What else? I hate my mustache. That’s a fact. There. Stuff to write about. Cue the witty phrasing and clever metaphors about living life and feeling feelings. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just too god damn cold for creativity. All work and no play makes Jack freeze to death in the hedge maze with his family. Spoiler alert. 

I guess all this is normal and expected. I never really assumed I’d have amazing insights and important things to say ever, let alone on any kind of regular basis. I’m just another land mammal flopping around the landscape hoping I don’t get swallowed into the horizon. All a part of the human experience. I’m still here. I’m still living. I’m still figuring it all out. I suppose this isn’t really anything that NEEDS to be written about and posted online but then again, what the hell ever does? One more coffee stained carton of thumb typed words to add to the Internet landfill in the faintest of hopes that one day it’ll be a small part of the inevitable inferno. Burning bright and burning strong, just long enough to matter. We all want the same thing really. We just all have different ways of trying to get it.
I’m sure I have lots more to say and talk about with this blog and hopefully I’ll be back to semi regular posting sooner than later. In the meantime, I’ll keep doing what I’m doing and you keep doing what you’re doing. I hear the Internet has lots of cool cat videos. Check it out!
*
*
JM

Sober City Redux: Day 35

IMG_7987*
*
35 years ago I decided to start living. I know I was eager to do this because I wasn’t suppose to start living outside of the womb for another month or so. I wanted to get the show started so much I was willing to live in an incubator for weeks and stress out my poor mom and dad night and day for the sole purpose of starting my life at that exact moment. This was selfish sure, but I believe it was necessary to fulfill my life’s goal of sharing a birthday with both Oprah Winfrey AND Tom Selleck. Mission accomplished.

This was only the first time I decided to start living however. Somewhere around four years old I proclaimed I was going to be a famous actor. I might not have actually said that in so many words but I knew from a very young age in my heart that I was going to entertain people so I decided I was an actor and started living as such. Years later, the first time I felt like I was really in love, I was inspired to write my first song and shortly after it was received so well I decided to make that a regular part of my life for the rest of my life and I started living again. These moments continued to happen throughout my life on a fairly frequent basis and helped keep me fully engaged with life and in control. Then something terrible happened and I stopped living completely.

Before I get into that though, I should address some things that happened since my last post. My birthday was last Thursday and Sunday was the Super Bowl. Both of these events were my first real “staying sober” challenges. I honestly didn’t think they’d be challenging at all, and in many ways they really weren’t, but sometime during the day of my birthday I decided I was going to have some drinks and I convinced myself it was ok. First of all, it is ok. I know that I’m at a place where drinking once or twice a month for special occasions wouldn’t throw me back into a downward spiral of depression and practicing moderation is something that would probably be more beneficial to me in the long run but for whatever reason the moment just never felt right and I ended up sticking to water both nights. This did however open the door for a new conversation about how to proceed with Sober City in the future and I’m sure I’ll be setting new guidelines for myself eventually. Just not yet.

The second thing that happened had nothing to do with drinking at all but probably more to do with my entire struggle over the past 6 years then everything else combined. Yesterday was my dad’s birthday and I haven’t been able to talk to him for roughly 7 years now. Losing my father shook me to my core. It’s not something I’ve talked about much on here but it needs to be acknowledged. Sometime during the 11 months when dad was in the hospital (with a sever brain injury) and the months following his death, I decided to stop living. After spending 20 some years of engaging with life and “deciding to live” time and time again, for the first time ever I shut down completely. This wasn’t a conscious choice and it wasn’t something that happened overnight but it was a throughly self destructive mindset that took over my entire being and turned me into someone I didn’t recognize at all. Thankfully, I’m through the worst of it and well on the way to recovery but I’d be a fool not to recognize the profound impact it had (and will always have) on my life.

I only bring this up now because yesterday reminded me just how important it is to start living again. I’ve been hiding from life for way too long and it’s the worst thing I could be doing and the last thing dad would ever want me to do. It’s not a simple fix. It’s not a shortcut to happiness, but it is an opportunity to channel my younger self, the person I used to love and nurture, and decide to start living again today and hopefully again and again tomorrow.

Sharing all of these thoughts with everyone might not be necessary or productive (or cool) but it helps put things into perspective and it’s all part of whatever journey this turns out to be. So let’s start living again people! It’s what Oprah would have wanted.
*
*
JM

Sober City Redux: Day 26

2015/01/img_7972-0.jpg*
*
When I was younger the Happy Face (or Smiley Face) was my thing. I mean it was and still is a lot of people’s thing but I adopted it as MY THING. I had happy face paraphernalia everywhere in my room; everyone who knew me bought me absolutely anything with a happy face on it; I incorporated the happy face into my actual signature, and because of the happy face I once got punched in the face giving me a black eye for prom (that’s a story for another blog). Needless to say, it meant a lot to me and it’s not hard to see why. I was always an extremely positive person and I fully believed in the power of positive thinking and manifest destiny and all manner of self help book rhetoric, so the happy face seemed like a pretty natural logo for me to adopt in retrospect. This kind of outlook and thinking served me extremely well and I fully believe it directly influenced a lot of my personal and professional success, so it’s a little disheartening to realize that I now feel completely disconnected from the happy face I used to love so much.

This isn’t to say that I’m depressed. I’m not. I feel pretty great for the most part actually, I just don’t feel a connection to that younger, full of life and promise, happy face guy I used to be. This might not be a bad thing necessarily and it’s more than likely just one of the many things you grow out of as you get older but fuck that! Getting older shouldn’t be about letting go of everything you held dear when you were younger just because time passes. It should be about learning to amplify those things that worked for you and only leave behind all the hot garbage that dragged you down. Apparently I’ve been opting to just lump my wide-eyed-optimistic-fearless-over-confident-anything-is-possible-happy-face persona that made me who I was and brought me nothing but success and happiness into the “Young and Naive” category to wither and die along side “Petty High School Drama” and “Playing Ghost Busters”. It’s ridiculous. Letting go of my happy face obsession is one thing but letting go of what it represented in me is totally unacceptable. When did “growing up” become synonymous with “giving up”? Who decided aging has more to do with changing than adapting? At what point did we all let “getting older” become the opposite of “getting bolder”? I really don’t know but it’s all a pile of horse shit.

The point I’m trying to make (poorly) is that growing up and getting older is a perfectly normal and necessary part of life that benefits everyone in many positive ways and is great and fine and super and ultimately has the potential to chip away all the great parts about ourselves that we used to love while sucking all different kinds of ass and balls. We know this. We know all this yet we let age and fear and jadedness seep their way into our tiny lizard brains and slime the place up with lies and false reasoning. We gotta hold on to the good parts from the past, those good bits of us that helped create and define who we were, who we are. The happy face. My happy face. It worked for me. It inspired me. It lifted me up higher than I had any business going and it’s part of who I was and who I am. Growing up doesn’t mean giving up. Growing up means getting up, again and again and I for one am going to do my damnedest to try and remember that, with or without a thousand happy faces in my apartment.

This post is dangerously close to entering “Sarah Palin bumper sticker ranting” territory so I’ll end it there. As always, feel free to like and share and comment as much you see fit. Every click makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Also Sober City might be going through some changes in the near future so please bear with me as I navigate potentially uncharted territory. Cryptic ominous sentence! Don’t worry. Just stay classy San Diego.
*
*
JM

Sober City Redux: Day 6

/home/wpcom/public_html/wp-content/blogs.dir/24f/19774835/files/2015/01/img_7877.jpg*
I did two things recently that tested however many small shreds of confidence I still manage to cling to after letting myself get to this point. First, I took my new “Before” pictures. This is absolutely an essential part of the whole process as far as I’m concerned and I highly encourage anyone else challenging themselves to a New Years transformation to do so as well but be warned, it sucks all the balls all day long. Any self denial mechanisms I had in place regarding just how far I let myself slip, were singled out and quickly taken down by a pack of rabid reality wolves and torn limb from fat jiggly limb. They died. They were eaten. They will be missed.

Secondly, I went shopping for new jeans. Now the only reason I would even subject myself to such nightmarish torture (right after the holidays no less) was due to complete and utter necessity. My only pairs of pants that even remotely fit anymore were literally falling apart at the seams and I’m told it’s socially frowned upon to leave the house in oversized swimming trunks everyday, so a trip to the mall was unavoidable. Now I’m sure that some of you reading this don’t understand how shopping for clothes could ever be described as “torture” and good for you for having great metabolism or awesome self confidence or whatever form of unimaginable black magic lets you coast through life on a cushion of blissful ignorance but for people like me who deal with the twisted horror show that is weight problems, shopping for jeans when you are (or feel) fatter than usual is nothing short of hell on earth. Bad lighting, skinny sales attendants, 8 million mirrors in a tiny room making sure you see every god damn inch of grossness you’re desperately trying to jam into jeans that are already 2 sizes bigger than they used to be. Some chipper and content person saying something like, “You making out OK in there?” and the only honest response is something like, “Oh yeah! Totally fine! I just slipped into the seventh circle of hell! Only two more levels to go before I reach the epicenter of Satan’s inner sanctum! Do you have this in a size Hammer Pants?” Madness. Total panic. Don’t do it. Buy patches.

So I’m not even a week in and already the mountain seems way too impossibly high to conquer. My commitment and drive is still sound and secure but shame and despair hold a shit load of ground. This may sound negative and whinny but it’s important to talk about. This isn’t easy. This isn’t pretty. This takes time. That’s ok. I’ve got a long road ahead of me but so does everyone. Life is gonna happen regardless of what I do, so I may as well actively do something to steer it in the direction I want it to go instead of complaining about where it’s taking me. The good news is that the simple act of committing to change, while it may not make the journey any easier, does in fact make all the other bullshit a thousand times more manageable and that’s a great place to start. Just stay the fuck away from malls and mirrors.
*
*
JM

Sober City Redux 2015

/home/wpcom/public_html/wp-content/blogs.dir/24f/19774835/files/2015/01/img_7845.jpg
Happy New Year ya filthy animals!

So here’s the thing; I don’t know how to properly use semi colons. Let’s try that again. 4 years ago I wrote a lengthy heartfelt blog post detailing my intentions to give up alcohol for exactly one year. I did this partly because I needed to lose weight, partly because I needed to change my lifestyle and most accurately, because I needed to see if I could actually do it. Most of you know that I did in fact make it to the end of the year booze free and that I lost a total of 50 pounds and generally felt way better than I did before. The experiment was a huge success by all accounts and life resumed for me in a fairly uneventful manner over the next 3 years. Of course life has a funny way of repeating itself from time to time and not always in a good way.

Long story short; I’m back to where I was in 2010 (and I still don’t know how to properly use semi colons). I find myself in the same creative rut, with the same negative patterns and coincidentally at the exact same weight I was in my terrible “before” picture. Things don’t feel right and I’m ready for things to change yet again. So roughly two months ago I made up my mind and committed to revisiting my 2011 Sober City experiment in 2015. Now, I realize I almost did this before with my “Sober City: The Return” posts and “The New Sober City” but those turned out to be nothing more than wishful thinking and in retrospect, it’s clear that I just wasn’t ready. Now I am more than ready and I’ve decided to once again share my journey with anyone who will listen. I didn’t come to this decision lightly as I was really worried about what people would think. The idea of blogging about this for a second time seemed tired and potentially open for ridicule but at the end of the day this isn’t about what anybody else thinks, this is about me. If people follow my journey and possibly get inspired or feel motivated because of what I do, great, that’s fantastic, but to be completely honest I’m blogging about this because I need to. Writing helps me work out my struggles and making it public (or at least believing that it’s being read by the public) gives me an added sense of purpose that really helps me in ways I don’t even fully understand.

So with all that preamble, I officially announce my relocation to Sober City for 2015. Like last time, I’ll be updating on a semi-regular basis and following this New Years resolution to it’s full and natural…resolution. If you feel like following along, please do. If you think this is ridiculous and hate what I’m doing, block me from whatever. I’m making a commitment to change my current trajectory and I can’t wait to see where it takes me. Maybe some of you reading this feels the same way. Every day is a new chance to turn it all around and there’s no better time than now. Happy 2015 everyone! CHEERS!