Alcohol’s a Bitch.

You think when you’ve reached your twenties, you’d be more sophisticated, worldly and knowing. Well, you just can’t be more wrong. Twenties are just an extension of your teenage years except that you own more money. Insecurities, social acceptance, peer pressure all of them are still there, those old mean bastards. It might be even more dangerous since in your twenties you have a lot more points to prove and much more ambition. Yes, I can get a raise and promotion next month. Yes, I can totally buy that (put any one word designer’s name here) handbag even if it cost me four months salary. Yes, God is my witness, I’ll be married by 27.

Back to the alcohol thingy, I spent this beautiful Saturday being drunk. I missed a late brunch by the river and a good wonderful company, because I’m too hammered to even wake up from my bed. I don’t think I’ve ever been this drunk before although there were few close calls. I’m not a party animal or those hipsters who thinks being tipsy and slurred are the way to go. There is nothing mildly cute or graceful in being drunk. Last night, I was simply having a good time and got a bit carried away. I had two fantastic, fun loving girls with me and a really sweet guy as the designated driver since we all knew deep down, the three fantastic, fun loving girls (yes, I counted myself in) would be three raving intoxicated girls as the night grew old. Fast forward to around 3 a.m, one was having a serious make out session with a toilet bowl (yes, missy I know you’d be reading this) and another two was taking over the dance floor. Then we went home. It was a beautiful misty morning as we passed few determined joggers, market shopping housewives and high school students on the way.

I was quite sober when I reached home but by the time I woke up after an urgent phone call (BRUNCH! WAKE UP!), a deep unsettling nausea hits me and the next thing I know, I was on the toilet floor, throwing up everything I swallowed the night before. I never knew our body don’t digest vodka that well. To make things worse, the nausea didn’t come in one big tsunami so I can just get it done. Oh no, they came in ripples. Six sickening and horrifying ripples which was the very reason why your parents told you not to get drunk. It is now 20.52 laptop time, when I’m writing this in a much better state and finally able to hold food in my belly.

I learned my lesson today. It cost me a splendid Saturday. As God as my witness, I’ll never be drunk again. Ever.

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Hello! I’m Eve Tedja

I have been a professional writer for four years.

During that time, I have worked as a permanent contributor for Let’s eat! Magazine, Hello Bali, epicure, and published my articles in several other magazines like Venture, Panorama, Bravacasa, and Bali & Beyond.

Words, sentences, stories... these are my passion. I love to take new challenges in writing for various format and media. I create contents for websites, blogs, and communication materials. I’ve also worked as a copywriter, translator, coffee book editor, social media coordinator, media consultant, and even writing for a specialty coffee packaging.

Interior design, travel, environment, culinary, culture, history, and social issues are some of the themes that I have worked with in the past. I love getting involves with individuals, companies, organizations, and communities with stories to tell.

I am available for assignment worldwide. Reach me at eve(dot)tedja(at)gmail(dot)com.


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