Sunday, October 15, 2006


Probably the first party pic of me ever when I’m not the one holding the camera!

Why do they not arrest me? I know there are cameras all around this building. It’s the police headquarter for crying out loud! It’s staffed 24/7. Maybe drunk-walking with dog isn’t even a misdemeanor?

Even though I could hardly stand up, I knew Simon had to go to the bathroom now or we would not like each other in a few hours. So I did what I always do: I stumbled around in the police park with Simon. It’s almost 5am.

It’s amazing that the taxi driver could interpret my drunken slur and actually drive me home. The receipt said that the trip started at 4.31 and ended 4.48. I love the Stockholm cabs. They accept all credit cards and their receipts have so much information on it, it’s like a little novel.

I’m paying for this the day after though. The only time I stand upright is to walk Simon.

Today I’m thankful that Simon can accept a slow walk every now and then. There is so much to smell and so little time.

My tall statuesque friend was supposed to spend the day at my place, but she has been led between the bed and the bathroom all night by her boyfriend the Saint. She spends all of Saturday that way actually.

My short voluptuous friend on the other hand had not spent the night (or do you call it morning when it’s after 5am?) at home, so thankfully she was happy to come over and spend the day with me. Sleeping on the couch, but anyway.

The worst thing with alcohol is the side effects. For one your body doesn’t count it as sleep when you “pass out” in bed when you come home. And then there’s the anguish. You’ll bee seized with anxiety whether you have a reason for it or not. The best way to not get stuck in those horrid feelings is to spend the day after with good friends I’ve noticed. Or curled up in bed all day with a hunk – but that’s another story.

So the first time I wake up (when the alcohol is “slept off” maybe?) it’s almost eleven and my make-up is still perfect! On my way to wash it off I see my trail of clothes. If I didn’t know I came home alone I would have thought it had been a hot and steamy scenario here earlier. My clothes have been dropped piece by piece, leading a trail to the bedroom, starting with my shoes at the front door. For some reason I left my socks and my undies on. (strange choice)

One of the walks me and short voluptuous friend do with Simon is to the corner Thai restaurant for take out. Cheep and good! Unfortunately I can’t sit up long enough to eat more than two bites at a time. Dinner goes on for a while.

My man-friend comes over with a movie. He is shocked to see the state we are in.

So why are we doing this? On one of the blogs I always read, Diane is telling that she had a “corner turning moment” when it dawned on here that maybe there are better/other things than partying. It’s time for me to get to that corner: even if I have to crawl. Still on Monday I had eyes like a boxer and a severe hangover voice. Thank good for Clear-eyes and nice clothes! I hope I fooled my office at least. Don’t want them to find out about my secrete double life. Being a top executive during the day and a drunken party princess at night.

How did we get to this state?

Starting Friday night with tall statuesque friend and me as usual in my apartment with lots of vodka. For some reason we started discussing politics. We do not share the same views. I told here that I can not see myself getting involved with a guy who has another political view than me. This went on until 1am when we got a cab and went to the club. Short voluptuous friend showed up around 2.30 after drinks with her co-workers.

As the money-spending-junky I am: I kept ordering White-Russians for us until the bar ran out milk. Ohps! And I can tell you that we did not need quite as many White-Russians as we consumed.

I saw this guy. I liked him right away. Not sure why. He was not particularly good looking. He was far from fit. You could tell that he liked good food. And he had a beard sorta like Mr Solas (what ever the guy’s name in Desperate Housewives is) but it was blond. I would not be surprised if he likes Jazz. Had tall statuesque friend noticed that I was not standing next to her and seen me with this guy, she would have totally dragged me away from him. She only accepts guys who are handsome with wash-board stomachs and a cool clothing style (at least when we are at the clubs). Short voluptuous friend saw me though. She saw the big smile on my face and left me there.

The night went by so fast – it’s all a blur. The music was really good. People where happy. I ran in to a few guys I know (one of the “sailors” took the pic). I do remember that I asked the guy with the beard all sorts of things. Like what political side he was on. Not your average club chit-chat I guess.

Suddenly I realize that I have had way too much to drink. “I have to get a cab” I mumble and storm off. The guy who I’ve been talking to all evening follows me out. He gets me the cab of the particularly company that I prefer to ride with. He opens the door and lets me in. Then he closes the cab door. From the outside. He didn’t even ask for my number.

John? What happened here?


Blogger ~Deb said...

Ah, my famous rule upon first dates. Never, ever talk about religion or politics. But, we still do anyway, to determine if we're going to see eye-to-eye with them, right?

I have had MANY of those nights where I found a trail of clothes leading back from the living room to the bedroom. Yikes!

The best best best thing to do for a to drink 4 tall glasses of water (if you can tolerate it) a pint of Gatorade (for the electrolytes, 1,000 mg of vitamin C and a banana. If none of those work, resort to the next thing---Motrin (Ibuprofen)

Now, another wonderful technique is to indulge yourself with a nice bloody mary. It totally cures the hangover and makes you feel great. (Yes, that's the alcoholic in me talking now!)

The pictures you post are great! They're so full of life and random!

6:39 AM  
Blogger mal said...

the good news and the bad news about alcohol is it lets you know when you abuse it and you pay for it.

I always think I am a lot a smarter when I am drinking. I of course know better when I am sober *G*

The guy with the cab? Good question. He was obviously a gentleman. Was he too much of one though? Was distancing himself a bit from the drunk woman? Or did he think you were ditching him?

7:03 AM  
Blogger mal said... hangover cure? litre of water and 1500 mg of aspirin BEFORE bed...of course if you are like me, you are too drunk to remember.....

7:05 AM  
Blogger Åsa said...

Deb: yeah! What’s up with that? What if you fall for someone whose values you can’t stand? What a dilemma! I was just trying to weeding out the heard. Wait now… maybe that’s what he did as well? And decided to weed me out?! Hmmm… would I fall for someone who treated me as if we where at a job interview (the job being life here)? Probably not. Way too stressful.

As for the hangover cure: that’s A LOT of liquid you recommend there…

I love pictures – it’s easier to remember that way.

Mal: I like your idea of him thinking I ditched him. He asked me a few times during the night if I wanted to go to another club and I kept saying “no – I’m here with my friends”. Thanks Mal! I feel so much better now.

And another hangover cure with lots of liquid. I see a trend here… (or do you need three examples for it to be a trend?)

Oh and by the way: I know you are smart sober as well: I’ve been reading your blog!

Thanks you two!

8:18 AM  
Blogger Balloon Pirate said...


You take a cab to walk your dog? What a life you live!

And you want to spend the day curled up with a 'hunk?' A hunk of what? Bread? Cheese? That doesn't sound like fun.

Oh--you mean a guy? That doesn't sound like much fun to me either.

Sounds to me like you've reached that mental corner you've talked about. I got there about a decade ago. Ever since then, I've been more aware of how much I'm drinking at parties, and I set a limit. I'm betting you'll do the same.

Hope you're feeling better!


8:31 PM  
Blogger It's me said...

that is so funny to drink them out of the milk. Thats probably a sign that you've had too many white russians.

8:48 AM  
Blogger Åsa said...

Balloon Pirate: why should I not take a cab to walk my dog?! I was not in a state to figure out the bus schedule, and I prefer to have company when I walk at night. And it cost as much as one drink (aprox 100SEK which is almost $14US or 11Euros). How do you get home at four in the morning in a place which has a zero tolerance level for alcohol while driving? (as if I could have figured out how to get the key in the ignition at the time).

A hunk of bread? Isn’t it called a chunk of bread? Or a loaf of bread? Did I mean a chunk of man? Is that even an expression?! Yes: I meant a man. A full-size, breathing man.

Thanks, I do feel better and I have a new rule: no alcohol after 1am. (and none before noon). Yes: I’ve reached the corner.

B Wayne: well there where earlier signs that we had drank too much – way before they ran out of milk.

Thanks for visiting!

12:52 AM  
Blogger Balloon Pirate said...

From the Merriam-Webster Dictionary:

Pronunciation: 'h&[ng]k
Function: noun
Etymology: Dutch dialect hunke
1 : a large lump, piece, or portion [a hunk of bread]
2 : an attractive and usually well-built man

I have no problem with your decision to take a cab home from drinking. In fact, I applaud it. What I found both amusing and confusing is taking the cab to walk the dog. I always walked my dog in my neighborhood. Is there no neighborhood in your neighborhood?

And let me add this: your Simon is a much better trained dog than my Sean was. I doubt he could have 'held it' for the ride.


4:22 AM  
Blogger Åsa said...

Balloon Pirate! I live next to the police house where I walk Simon when I’m too tired to walk along the waterfront. The clubs are located more “down town” than my neighbourhood. Simon did not go with me to the club; hence did not ride in the cab home with me. I did write a confusing story: didn’t I? I’ll show you around Stockholm if you decide to travel to this part of the world. The logistics wouldn’t seam so confusing than.

Thanks for checking out the dictionary for me ;-)

8:57 AM  
Blogger honkeie2 said...

I have been abusing alcohol for about 10 years now and have only one semi good hangover story. And dont get me wrong Hank the Tank has nothing on me. Once u pop I dont stop until i drop. I have never been so hung over that anyone could tell or smell ;-). I would like to consider myself the soilder of the drinking world. Drink until your thursty and then start the next day with some vitaminC and some rum to get going lol. And I have never black out as of yet any event of any drinking night.

1:20 PM  
Blogger No_the_game said...


Uuuuuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwwwweeeeeeeeee. Sounds like somebody have fun. Good times!!!! I wished I was there to hang out and party like you.

I had one of those days where I could find tails of close from outside of the door to my bathroom.

When I was in college in Turkey, one night we got so hammered that I left my shoes infront of the building (reminding you that is what 5 floor flat) and the next day I had exam.

I even was not up the next day. Needless to say the next day I showed up in the class my pants inside out!!!

Yeah I was the fool of the campus for a while :)

Anyhow what to do. I miss that in Chicago. I do not have friends like that here :(

Good times. Enjoy it.

Much love,

P.S Your comment is fine on our blog. We love long comments and we sure LOVE you.

1:02 PM  
Blogger No_the_game said...

GOD my english sucks :))

1:02 PM  
Blogger Åsa said...

Well honkeie2: why don’t you get back to us when you have come to your senses and dare to share something from within. Or is this your first attempt to confront your abuse? If so: I’m honored you did it here!

No the game: you are so sweeeet! I love reading your blog!

I totally know how it is to move and not find the same crowd to hang with. The older we get the harder it seams to find friends who are what we are looking for. There could be some party-princesses in your surrounding though. They just don’t know it yet. Have you tried? Someone has to start the party you know!

HA HA! You started dropping your clothes outside of your door?! That must have been a good party ;-)

And hey! Nothing wrong with wearing pants inside out when you go to class. Even bad PR is PR…

1:43 AM  
Blogger Zack said...

I party when I'm empty. When I'm full I stay at home with people I care about and read and build I fire.

Empty I'm out all night, every night.

7:25 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Citat: Shitwa snygg mane! Ensam hemma försöker gå ut med Simön.
Puss/Short volupotuos friend

1:57 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home