Good lord. I must have really gone over the top with the drinking this weekend because surely I must have died and been dragged off to Viking hell. The weather is awful, if you ask me. It’s -16C outside in the mornings, and it takes eons for the car to warm up and for me, frozen to the steering wheel by my hands, to stop shaking and whimpering. By the time the car does warm up, I am at the office, and must once again exit the car and walk across the perilously icy and windy parking lot and attempt, with blue and trembling hands, to hit the keyhole with the key at the entrance at the first try, lest I freeze solid. And yet, there are those who revel in this Nordic nightmare. They post cheerful nonsense on facebook about the beauty of snow, about the jolly frost patterns on the windows, about rosy cheeks and happy children… You get the picture. Sad, deluded lunatics all. Snow isn’t fun. Not in the cities, at any rate. Snow belongs at ski resorts, mountains, and countryside in general. That’s where it’s fun, or, rather, can be. Sure, it looks good, but is horribly impractical, as is ice. Snow slows you down, gets in your shoes, wets your clothes, buries your car and makes it drift all over the road. Give me +5C, or better yet, +10C temperatures through the winter. Give me months of rain, dramatic skies, storms! I don’t mind darkness, I don’t, but for fuck’s sake, turn up the thermostat a little!
(Ok, fine, fine. You can have your snow and crisp -5C weather on Christmas, and during one weekend before and after, so that we can all enjoy a hot cup of chocolate under the blankets and look out of window. But no more!)
Sigh. It’s been a hard, hard week. Not really work-wise, there I’ve had no problems, and really enjoyed the opportunity to travel to Moscow, nor was it hard domestically, for all is calm and peaceful at the home front. No, I once again fell prey to the “Green Snake” (Зеленый Змий), for that is what they traditionally, and aptly, if I may add, call alcohol amongst Russians. After the time I got surprisingly drunk on the train on the way to Moscow a week ago I decided to take it easy for a while, you know, to sort of let my psyche rest and the bruises heal. But no. Nooo. A friend of ours had his Karonkka, or a post-doctorate party last Friday. That, of course, meant friends all around, and plenty of food and drink. The event itself went swimmingly. Due to the splendid overabundance of food the inebriation curve was gentle, very gradual and user-friendly. There was plenty of good conversation, people were seen that were not seen for ages, as well as old friends met, the speeches were short and even entertaining, the music (classical) also above par. So what’s the problem? None, not at the party. I did throw a drunk hissy fit in the cab, much to my later shame, but if I would have left it at that and stopped drinking in time everything would have been hunky dory. We came home around 5am or maybe even later (earlier?). We sat up for a while, not sure how long exactly, drinking Jameson whiskey and listening to music, and then I finally fell asleep, last as usual, and once I woke up, first as usual, I went to the living room and woke up my buddy. And got myself a low-alcohol beer from the fridge. And that’s where it all started heading south at a fairly rapid pace…
I was still drunk from the day before, very drunk, having only slept maybe 4 or 5 hours since my last drink, and after that one bottle of beer decided to finish off the whiskey that remained in glasses from the night before. And then, just like that, there was no stopping that train. I, or we that is, me and my buddy, got completely smashed and passed out at already 3 or 4pm. And woke up at something close to midnight, with a terrible hangover and a no less terrible hunger. We got a meal from a near-by McDonalds, since everything else was already closed, and promptly consumed it while watching Lord of the Rings. Man. If I thought the hangover was bad before, it was nothing compared to the one that hit me after I ate. I thought I was gonna die. Nothing stayed in my stomach. I also had “mental cramps”, panic attacks, and was so weak I could barely move. I could only lay on the cold bathroom floor and whimper, occasionally summoning enough strength to pour some bile out of my stomach and into the toilet. The following day the poisoning was not as acute, but my general condition not much better otherwise. I couldn’t eat for the first half of the day, and just lay there, dying on the couch, although I did go out to the shop (which damn near killed me) and to get some Chinese take-away, which is the best hangover food ever, beating even pizza. Waking up the following day I noticed that I was still a little queasy, and that I had pains in my back, lower right where the ribs end, which is where I assume my liver lives. So yeah, I had a hangover that lasted almost 3 days! After that experience I started to think that it would be prudent to lay off the booze for a while… I think I should leave heavy drinking to younger men, no matter how sad that might sound, or else require a liver transplant by age 40.
So ends that sad, sad tale. Other than the epic hangover, nothing much has happend. I’m still going to the pool, although not every day, and will try to go on going to the pool for as long as I can. My bulk is melting, but very slowly largely due to all the beer and hangover remedies consumed on the weekends. Anyway, I’ll just get the links out and be off to the swimming pool then.
- Top 10 annoying movie sidekicks. Yeah, I agree. Can’t add much, except that Ruby Rhod was a darling. And that all female sidekicks are incredibly annoying!
- Continuing with the movie theme, here are: The 100 Best Movies of the Decade, and…
- The Worst 100 Movies, but of 2009 alone. Thanks to The Times. Very comprehensive. I’ll go browse the torrents armed with these two lists alone.
- Ok, and remember the whole thing about the leaked climate research e-mails? The so-called “Climategate“? Well, let’s look into it a little. First off, here’s 5 things you should know about climate change.
- Then an article published in Time, The truth behind climategate.
- And lastly, an article in The New Scientist that attempts to turn tables on the Climategaters, and succedes, too. I know, I know. Hippies and anarchists are annoying, borderline retarded idealists. But hey, lets not shoot the message while we shoot the messengers, eh? Besides, 99% of them will grow out of it by the time they hit 25.