(If you just want to read about the drug-incident, you can scroll down to the green text below.)
There are some people to thank when this book is finally done (a year from now?).
People who are helping me give birth to this creation. I think of them often, feeling blessed to have them in my life.
But as I wrote the Malaysia-chapters I noticed how it slowly turned into an exclamation of love for Miriam, the awesomest girl in the world! (she should have won Model search. She’s so goddamned beautiful!)
I wish I knew her last name so I could send her the book when it’s finished.
Maybe I’ll be strong enough to face my old agency by then, and ask them for her contact-info…
that all depends on how this self-therapeutic process works out for me.
Anyway, Miriam and I had a blast back then. She was the holy light and glory of my entire model-experience.
I’ll give you some almost readable sketch-pages of our journey from Stockholm to Kuala Lumpur.
Miriam: I said I don’t smoke, since the agency has that non-smoking-policy.
Me/Nina: Mmm, me too.
Text below: Damn, what a babe. So good-looking and cool.
Miriam: What they don’t know wont hurt’em.
Me: hehe, no.
over head text: Here I am with the coolest girl. Just talking… Like friends, kinda’.
over head text: On the plane to Malaysia/Kuala Lumpur.
I see to it that I get to sit next to Miriam. She is so cool. I just want to be with her all the time.
Miriam: I’m like sooo scared of flying!
Miriam: I need a drink
Text below: She confides in me.
Miriam: Oh shit shit, we’re totally gonna die! I really need a drink! Seriously!
Me: No… don’t worry…
Text above head: When the stewardess comes over
Miriam leans over my chair to speak to her.
Text below: It’s really nice. She’s so comfortable. Like we were best friends allready.
Miriam: I need a strong drink, you know.
Me(Nina): *pat pat*
Text below: God she’s so attractive. And cool.
Text below: Apparently they didn’t count in centiliters the way we do in Sweden. (note to non-swedes: in sweden you order your liquor by the centiliter, so when you’re in a bar and order a martini, the bartender will ask you “would you like a six or a four?”)
Text above head: Miriam has two drinks.
Text below: I’m worried the agency would scold me if they found out I had a drink. So I don’t.
Text above: She falls asleep on my shoulder.
Text below: Miriam
Text above: Imagine… she being eihgteen years old and so awesome…
Text above: Imagine, that she fell asleep on MY shoulder…
Text above: The hot humid air hits us like a wall.
Text below: They have air conditioning inside the airport.
Text above: We sneak out, me and Miriam, to have a smoke.
Text below: Standing at the edge of the jungle with Miriam. This feels so… magical.
Yeah, I guess you guys can hear my tone in this chapter… I wonder if she knew how much I admired her?
We hung out again a year after model search when we were both working in Athens. That was an unforgettable journey too… God! There are too many stories! How many pages am I supposed to draw? Well, the whole Athens-trip will have to wait for book nr 2 I think. There’s just no way I could make this over 120 pgs. I rather need to cut it down.
Buuut I’ll give you blog readers one of my memories from then at least…
One day Miriam came up to my room at the hotel we stayed at and told me she had scored some dope. Hashish or marijuana, or a mix perhaps, I still don’t know.
We used to hang out with some other models (I’ve forgotten most of them) and this one guy got stuck in my head for years afterwards.
He was a cool Canadian guy in his thirties. I really liked him. He was allways so funny and seemed to direct his funnyness towards me most of the time.
I felt noticed by him.
Today I’m pretty sure what he was doing was trying to get into my panties, but back then I was so young and naive. Only fifteen, what knew I of the world and the male sexuality? Nothing I tell ya, nothing at all.
Anyway, me and Miriam brought the dope with us out and later that evening we went to his room where there was some kind of afterparty.
I sat on one of the beds.
They all passed a joint around.
I got it,
filled my lungs with the smoke,
drug my breath deeper and deeper, ’cause it didn’t feel like I got anything in me (smoking dope is obviously not like smoking cigarettes.).
Then I held it down for as long as I could…
When I looked up after a while (a while? an hour? a minute?) and that Canadian guy said “Oh God. Girl, your eyes are totally freaking me out!”, weeell that kind of scared the shit out of me.
I understood that something had gone terribly wrong and that I was about to have some sort of a psychosis now. (insanity does to some extent run in my family. This I knew and feared)
I left the “party” and went back to my own room.
As I lay down in bed I could feel my heart.
And how the pounding of it seemed to slow down.
A terror gripped me stronger than ever before,
it was beating too slow!
And still in the process of slowing down!
It felt like an hours wait for the next beat of heart!
An hour?! How could that be?!
I knew, for certain, that if I’d close my eyes now, and let go of controll,
my heart would just stop.
And I would die.
All alone in Athens.
Only fifteen years old.
In a room with nothing but a naked lightbulb in the ceiling and that depressing prison bed I was lying in.
Of course I didn’t die that night… I managed to stay awake until it passed. I chose not to smoke any more dope on the after partys though… That experience really scared me, you know.
And now I live in Malmö. haha!
Okay, so now I’ve told you about this wonderful lady M, (and any crimes that we might have committed must surely be declared statue-barred by now..?) aaanyway, you’re probably wondering what she looked like, right?
Well, here you go, this is me and Miriam in Malaysia:
It’s like the only pics I have of her. They don’t do her justice, of course. But you get some kind of image of her being at least…
Love on you all my friends!
…I’m extra happy tonight by the way,
because this really nice guy lent me a stack of comic books.