by Grace Helbig
I’ve experienced my fair share of hangovers. The first time I got drunk, I was with my best friend at her older sister’s college. My high school friend (I’ll now refer to her as HSF) had visited a couple of times before and I was desperate to get the college-party experience. I remember thinking, Jesus, what flared jeans should I wear?
I was a junior in high school but was a freshman in drinking–and I thought getting drunk was a high school rite of passage. As soon as we got to the dorm, we drank red Solo cups full of pink lemonade and vodka. I was so excited. After just one cup of the sour pink sauce, my face was hot and my body was wiggly. My HSF said, “You’ll feel it when you start giggling.” I GIGGLED. We walked to my car to grab my overnight bag and it was winter and we laughed like hyenas and kept falling into the dirty gray piles of parking lot snow mountains.
My HSF’s sister took us bowling, thinking that a black-light venue with unlimited microwave pizza would be a safe space. She was right. Bowling alleys couldn’t care less about how you act, as long as you pay for your lane and return their shoes, which smell like dog tongues. HSF’s sister also brought a dude friend with her, whose real name we could never remember. Instead my HSF and I decided to call him Lance Bass all night. Why? Because it was an excellent choice. We didn’t necessarily call him Lance so much as we just kept repeating the phrase, “Who do you think you are, Lance Bass?” every time he spoke. To us, this was COMEDY GOLD.
It was a great night. We slapped pizza in each other’s faces; explained to Lance how we loved *NSYNC in an ironic way, but also like loved them for real; and threw bowling balls overhand down the lanes. I will never forget the image of my HSF drunkenly trying to put pizza in her mouth, but missing and instead smothering her entire face with sauce. I passed out on the floor of my HSF’s sister’s dorm room and her sister slept next to me all night, because she was worried I wasn’t breathing. Turns out I was. Nailed it!
I woke up the next morning and puked into her toilet very politely and drove home with my HSF feeling accomplished and terrible. Over the years, I’ve put a variety of liquors into my body and I’ve gotten a handle (liquor pun!) on how to manage the inevitable hangover.
It’s important to hold yourself accountable even in your sorry state. It will save you unnecessary post-drunk drama and maybe help prevent you from finding yourself in this position again. You’re in a sensitive, fleeting state of misery. When you feel terrible, it’s incredibly easy to place the blame on someone else. But the truth is, you drank those drinks, you had three “last” shots (I’ve crowned myself Grace “But shh, let’s just do one more shot” Helbig), you hung out with Chrissy. Instead of wasting energy being mad at someone else (or yourself), spend your energy fixing it! Note: You do not have to be happy you did this to yourself; you just have to somehow accept it. PRETEND.
Once you’ve acknowledged that you are the meteorologist that brought this foggy, bloated haze upon yourself, we can begin.
OKAY, LET’S START THE RECOVERY PROCESS. SORRY I’M SCREAMING.
Drink
Drink the nonpoisons.
Drink water. Take a second and look at the sponge in your kitchen sink right now. Do it. Or if the kitchen is too far away, just Google “dry sponge” or “very old lady.” See that? That’s your body right now. You are super dehydrated. And YES, duh, I hear you, of course the first thing you should do is drink water–so do it. Get your raggedy, creaky body out of your dirty, makeup-stained sheets and drink it. If not for your health, then for the fact that you can now tell your annoying nonhungover friend, “I already did that, Craig!”
Advil
Take some medicine.
Pop some Advil or some other pain reliever, unless you’re one of those holistic, organic, pure people who don’t take over-the-counter medicine. In which case, why were you getting so drunk while explaining why Bikram is SO ESSENTIAL? Also, how often do you really clean your yoga mat?
If you’re not one of those people, I highly recommend Advil. Again, it seems like common knowledge, I know, but we all need reminders in life. For instance, I keep travel-sized Advil in almost all of my purses/backpacks/suitcases. Some might say that’s the sign of a problem, but I say that’s the sign of a problem solver.
No
You don’t have to do that thing!
Anything you’ve already planned for the day that can be canceled relatively easily should be canceled. DO IT. You have my permission. Unless it’s a Ricky Martin concert–then you rally, goddamn it. Trust me, it’s awful forcing your body out of bed to have lunch at a too-bright Panera Bread with an old college friend, BUT it’s extremely wonderful to stay in bed, watch a Say Yes to the Dress marathon, and catch up with that old friend’s brand-new twins wearing stupid, coordinated striped onesies via Facebook posts. Oh, look at that: the seventeenth photo shows one smiling and the other frowning and they look like human theater masks–SO CUTE. Thanks, Facebook.
Check
Feel up your social media.
Get your hands all over it. This is a big one. Find your phone. Do you have your phone? If you don’t, you have a bigger problem. But if you do, tiny congrats. NOW CHECK YOUR INSTAGRAM, TWITTER, FACEBOOK, TUMBLR, VINE, TEXT MESSAGES, OUTGOING CALLS, VOICE MAILS, PHOTO/VIDEO ALBUM. CHECK YOUR LINKEDIN AND MYSPACE PAGES, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE. CHECK IT ALL.
Assess the damage. Figure out what can be salvaged with an “OMG! Kelly stole my phone last night” text or an “I have sinned. I have drunk-tweeted. #blessed” tweet and what cannot be undone. For the actions that may have caused more permanent damage, try not to beat yourself up about it, because it’s time to . . .
Eat
YEEEEESSSSSS.
This is self-explanatory. All the fries, all the chips, all the huevos rancheros. Go nuts. Give the body what it wants today and don’t look back.
Caffeinate
Hit the go-go juice.
If the Advil hasn’t cured your headache yet, some coffee might. This step, for me, is key. If you’re one of those people who is very sensitive to caffeine, I would hold off–for your sake and the sake of those around you. (I know your type; if you’re hungover from a glass and a half of Arbor Mist, the last thing you need is coffee.) But if you’re like me, YOU NEED IT.
The good thing about coffee is that it reminds your digestive system that its job is to process both the fries you just ate for brunch and the ones you forgot you ate at three a.m. Oh, yeah . . . those fries.
Revel in Someone Else’s Misfortune (Schadenfreude)
Things could be so much worse.
Your present state is way okay because it could be SO MUCH WORSE. Sometimes, it’s helpful to look up the Kony2012 guy’s public breakdown and let yourself relive those few moments of raw joy and raw pain and raw nudity. Other times, it’s nice to take a few minutes/hours to look at your ex-boyfriend’s photos on Instagram and confirm that his beard DEFINITELY looks stupid. And his facial hair is pretty bad, too. HEYO.
Personally, I love watching marathons of Chopped and Toddlers and Tiaras when I’m hungover. I like to indulge myself by watching shows with very few winners.
QUICK REMINDERS
This will NOT last forever.
You’re not dying. Unless you have some disease you didn’t tell me about. In which case, I defer to your doctor friend.
As long as you did not tell someone you love to “eat poop” or someone you do NOT love to “eat me,” everything is going to be okay. Celebrate! Pop the champ . . . water bottle!
One
One is the best number.
Try to do just one good thing for yourself today. When your body is feeling miserable, it’s easy for your brain to follow the depression train to bummer station. Instead! Trick your brain into thinking you’re still okay by doing something relatively healthy and maybe productive. Start a project you’ve been putting off, do a goddamn DIY project you saw on Pinterest, masturbate, etc.
When I wake up hungover, or come home from a long weekend of drinking, I like to ord
er juice cleanses online. It makes me feel like I’m Jennifer Aniston. And she’s doing okay–now. Usually by the time I get the delivery of juices I’m like, “Da fuq?” But in that very hungover moment of ordering them, I feel better.
Tumblr
Don’t retch, reblog.
Tumblr is a wonderful distraction from the post-drinking, self-hating nausea-panic caused by hangovers.
Clean
Yes, yes, I want some scrubs . . .
Clean yourself. Take a long, hot shower. Imagine the guilt, anxiety, and dance-sweat rinsing off you. It’s fun to try to scrub away the bad memories. Showers can be magical. Play some music, sing into the showerhead, pee–let it all out.
Hair
Dogs are great. And hair of the dog is the best.
If you haven’t already done so, it’s time to give your body a little bit of the midnight poison. I don’t think midnight poison is an actual term for alcohol, but it is now! Fun! It’s like that age-old saying, what doesn’t kill you . . . makes its way into a Bloody Mary and reduces your hangover panic attack.
This is a personal preference, but I find it’s better to ease my body down from a mountain of booze with a little more booze. It’s like when people run a marathon and then do some cool-down jogging afterward and you think, We get it, you LOVE running, stop showing off. Hair of the dog is your post-marathon jog. You’re very athletic.
HOW TO GET OVER A HANGOVER
Remember: DANCE CROTCH
Drink
Advil
No
Check
Eat
Caffeinate
Revel in Someone Else’s Misfortune (Schadenfreude)
One
Tumblr
Clean
Hair
#DANCECROTCH
HOW TO
COOK LIKE A KID FOR ADULTS
I’m not a good cook. Clearly. This is something I’ve come to understand and accept about myself. I have limitations. I’ve tried at various points in my life to leverage my obsession with the Food Network to raise my cooking game and it never works. I have the cooking abilities of a college freshman. I understand how to work with a small group of basic foods and products, and anything beyond that is too much. Foodies intimidate and terrify me. But when I imagine what a life based around a truffle-oil obsession must be like, I laugh. So dumb.
When I moved to NYC, I was scared of “fancy” restaurants. I didn’t know anything about wine (other than that a $12 bottle from the liquor store down the street was a splurge for me). If the menu items were in another language, I was royally screwed (I was too intimidated to ask questions, and if I did, I didn’t understand the answers). And all I really ever wanted at the end of the day was cheap, sloppy Mexican food and a margarita. There’s gotta be at least one other person out there who feels the same way–so this chapter is for you!
Just because my cooking knowledge is elementary doesn’t mean I can’t try to invent creative dishes. Foodies can’t hold me down (mostly because I don’t think they have the upper body strength). Yes, these recipes might not be the greatest for your body, but they’re fun to make. And that’s half of what I think is so appealing about cooking–the process.
Tools and utensils your starter-kitchen needs
A handwritten list of your close friends and family members’ phone numbers stored in a drawer for when you spill a pot of boiling water on your phone.
Some sort of cleaning products to wipe off the gross.
Objects that can be used to put out potential fires.
Chips.
Something for stirring things (professional note: don’t use fountain pens).
Knives (mostly regular-sized, but maybe one intimidatingly big one in case someone breaks into your house and you need to protect yourself and be like, “DON’T STEAL MY STUFF I HAVE A GIANT KNIFE!”).
PAM or other nonstick sprays–the dry shampoo of cooking.
Some sort of heating tool and heating chambers (oven, microwave, grill, skillets, etc.). (Side joke: Who is a skillet, a grill, and my ex-boyfriend’s favorite musician? . . . Skrillex–BYE.)
Probably some bowls.
BREAKFAST
Huevos Ranch-OOOHs
This is a GREAT hangover meal and it combines the culinary traditions of Mexico and Pittsburgh. Mexico is known for the classic dish huevos rancheros and Pittsburgh is known for putting french fries on sandwiches. This is the meal for the person who wants some sloppy Mexican in the morning, but also can’t stop thinking about that side of fries. Why not force them to mingle? That’s how real friends are made! Also, there’s ranch dressing on this because fries and ranch dressing go together like Spanx and a tight dress.
Ingredients:
Frozen french fries
Taco seasoning
Beans (black or refried–you’ll be the one farting them out later, so pick whichever is most pleasing to you)
Tortillas
Eggs
Ranch dressing
Salsa
Cilantro (if you’re fancy)
Salt and pepper
Cook your french fries according to the package’s instructions (but sprinkle them with some taco seasoning before you put them in the oven). Heat your beans and tortillas while you cook your eggs any way you want. You could go the apathetic route and use a microwave or be quasi-impressive and heat the beans in a skillet and warm your tortillas over your stovetop burners to get a little char (I told you I watch the Food Network). Cook your eggs however you want. When everything has been heated, start reverse-Jenga stacking! Lay down your tortillas, throw on some beans, add some fries, smother with some ranch dressing, top with your eggs and salsa. If you’re fancy, chop up some cilantro and put it on top. Done! You now have a delicious Mex-sylvania breakfast! You did it!
Changing of the Carbs
Like the changing of the guards? In England? Whatever. This recipe gives an ENGLISH muffin a whole new meaning. Hot damn! This is for someone who likes fish sandwiches and also likes salt-and-vinegar chips. Are there people like that out there? This is a conceptual dish if you’re the kind of person that prefers quirky titles over actual taste. Because, honestly, I’ve never made this, but it sounds decent in theory. And when it comes to food, decent is okay by me!
One of the most well-known English dishes is fish-and-chips (which is usually fried fish and French fries). It’s great. It hits all the spots. Sometimes it comes with tartar sauce, sometimes malt vinegar, sometimes curry sauce. This recipe is a spin on that classic.
Ingredients:
Fish sticks (or fish or frozen fish)
English muffin
Tartar sauce (or make your own if you’re one of those people)
Salt-and-vinegar chips
Lettuce (optional)
Cook up the fish sticks according to the package’s instructions. (Or attempt to batter and fry your own fish if you have something to prove. Honestly, battering and frying your own fish will probably taste better, so I salute you.) Toast your English muffin. Now it’s time to build the sandwich. Slather (what a word) the muffin with tartar sauce, smash in some salt-and-vinegar chips, pile on the fish and lettuce (if you want) and you’re done! Taste it to see if it doesn’t completely suck. Cool job!
Spamcakes
This is a pretty straightforward dish. It’s pancakes with Spam in them. If you don’t know what Spam is, you’re really missing out. If bacon and sausage had a super-white-trash daughter, it’d be Spam. It’s salty and savory and what exact meat it actually is remains unknown. It’s like a game for your mouth! Except don’t think about the last part for too long or you’ll gross yourself out. Some might call it “Hot Dog’s Cousin” or “Scrapple’s Stepdad.” Because sometimes in the morning you want something salty and sweet.
There was a period in my life after college when I was eating pancakes for dinner EVERY NIGHT. After a long shift at the good ol’ Olive Garden slopping six-pound plates of pasta swimming in
Alfredo sauce, coming home to one giant pancake was perfect. They were cheap, they were filling, and they were transformable. They were like edible paper dolls that you could dress up with different fillings and toppings. Cute!
Ingredients:
Spam
Vegetable oil or PAM
Pancake mix (or you can make your pancakes from scratch if you want to, oof)
Water or milk (depending on the mix you bought)
Butter or syrup (your choice)
Chop or dice your Spam into smaller pieces and sauté them in a pan with oil or PAM until they’re to your liking (hint: unlike hair, crispy Spam is great Spam). Mix your pancake mix together and then add your cooked Spam. Set another skillet up with a buttered bottom (ha) and ladle your mixture into the pan to cook your pancakes. Make them as big or little as you’d like but make sure they’re cooked through. How do you know if they’re cooked through? The same way you annoy someone on Facebook–poke them. See if stuff oozes out.
LUNCH
Hot Dog Salad
For those of you out there watching your figure but don’t give an expletive about being refined, this dish is for you! It’s like wearing an evening dress with Uggs; it’s the tuxedo T-shirt of food.
First of all, hot dogs are delicious. I just recently started eating meat again after seven years as a pescetarian, and five days into my new meat-eating lifestyle, I had bone marrow. Meh. Then I had a hot dog. SWEET LORD. How could I have deprived myself of this simple joy? But at the same time, when I was a pescatarian, my favorite fake meat was the veggie dogs. So this dish can work both ways! Equal opportunity food!