Memories keep me awake late at night.

Almost feel like a person today. I’m counting on being down and out until thursday but after my pearl barley pomegranate dinner yesterday my insides are cleaner (but very relative as in those rings of hell)

Me and Kix discussing which drink to do next from Dr Richards bar. Absinth? Menthe? Champagne? New boobs? The possibilities are endless when you are being entertained by a french plastic surgeon

Crashing a wedding. Trying to get the dad to dance with me. Finally his wife grew tired of me and danced. Look how happy that made her. Dancing is good for the soul. 

Pink champagne at 8 in the morning. Euro trash!

Wedding crashers. Who don’t want three swedes blessing their arabian wedding?

A jacuzzi without water. Perfect for sexy crawling. Make love to the camera. 

 Day three. Jump back up on that horse.

Owning the Latin Quarters. Then go eat kebab for dinner and drink horrible wine. End the night stinking dead rat surrounded by gorgeous models. Be very, very happy.

We travel the world and party. Slap dancing our way through Europe. Sometimes we sleep for an hour or two. Then we find a glass of vodka and start singing again.

Botox? The only way to get rid of those wrinkles is some late night exercise.

 Do you want a caffeine tablet in your drink? Not? Oooops! It’s just caffeine i promise…

The memories are coming back to me

Stolen from Lisa

Back from Paris

But it was such a handsome horse

Last day of being poor. Took my 10k walk home from work and made myself a traditional left over dinner. It was pretty good for being a ‘clean he fridge’ dinner. Tonight something thought through and amazing.

After my dinner I went to see war horse with Oliver’s family. It was interesting. A love story about a horse. Not since Black Beauty have a horse been portrayed so unsettling. (Dad – it was like Pearl Harbor. All sighs, long looks and I love you’s. But with a horse. A horse getting caught in barb wire and all of a sudden there is a slapstick scene. A horse that makes men paint endless drawings. A horse that understands what you say. A miraculous horse.)

The cinema is cool though. And I had salty candy and a gorgeous man at my side.

The uber bitch from hell

I was a bitch last night. Poor Oliver. For some reason I was feeling generally shitty and should know better than to be around people.

My amazing boyfriend cooked me bangers and mash and I sat on the sofa and sulked. He did an effort to stroke my hair and talk me out of it. I kept on sulking. When watching Deadwood I decided to fall asleep and when he woke me up to give me a massage I was generally pissed off.

This morning I kicked him out with an angry face.

Not my finest moment.

Only 3 more weeks to 30…

Pink balloons, cake and singing and even a Monday seem happy

This morning – amazing Elin’s birthday turning the perfect age of 28. Tom and me snuck up early morning and decorated the flat, and ourselves, with various bits and pieces.

The birthday gnome. The birthday, pant, gnome. He make all your birthday wishes come true as long as it include pink balloons and party hats.

And quite ugly banners

And badges that you have to wear to work (she got out of wearing the hat though)

Breakfast in bed! Chocolate cake, chocolate balls and egg and kaviar sandwich. Breakfast for the best Elin in the world.

The birthday gnome can be sexy too. With a backdrop of pink. Very important.

Surviving a hang over

Saturday was a tired day after Fridays Raffeling. Oliver worked and i lay on the sofa like a stranded whale eating everything that came my way and moaning about how horrible I felt.

After a couple of hours I got forced to get up my from hay sack position and Oliver styled me (since the backless dress from the night before weren’t park material).

Today’s outfit/styled by Oliver Holms

Shirt: Over sized dinner shirt almost long enough to cover my ass
Belt: Olivers Burgundy (of course) cumber belt

I was also bra less. We solved that with bandage.

The family Holms doing photo stuff. I looked on and froze wishing i was on the sofa. Might even have moaned a bit more.

Back in the house we (as in the Holmses) made pancakes. Oliver trying to show off and not necessarily his pancakes skills. 

Miranda was a flipping wizard. I ate until I almost grew out if Oliver gigantic dinner shirt.

There is still juice in this old lady

Back to Raffles with Laxen and Fredrik on Friday. Realizing I hadn’t been to a nightclub in 3 month it was time. Nothing had changed. Neither had I as i came to realize.

Borrowed Elins very short backless dress. Border on slutty. Suits Raffles perfectly.

Me and Laxen owned. As we do. 

Laxen and his old school mate also owned. But not as much as i did. Goes without saying. 

Fredrik and Erika talked about the deep meaningful things in life. 

While i ended up smashing the mirror. I have no idea how it happened.As I said, nothing has really changed.

After the mirror debacle I went home to oliver, drunk and smelling of fags, and had him paying for my cab while I went in and ate all his food. He is one lucky man.