Tarantino This Train Wreck

DJ NIKKI DUBS' NEW YEAR'S WEEKEND

(Tarantino This 4 Day Train Wreck)

Prologue:

I arrived in Thailand on New Year's Eve, 1 year ago. Though exhausted from 3 days of traveling, I allowed myself to be scooped up by a group of ex-pats and taken to the party city of Patong for a full on night out. Let's just say - Patong. blew. my. mind.

Look, I was a 22 year old girl. I had been to Vegas before and I thought that I had seen some shit. I thought that living close to Nevada and having the luxury of a few nights out in that crazy Vegas town had prepared me for the world of sexual explicitness and party places that cater to the the philosophy of: if you can dream it, you can do it. False. I was not prepared. Patong does not have rules. It does not have reason. It is what you fear and hope for in Thailand. 

The Present.

Wednesday at 7:00 p.m. 
I'm sick. Head throbbing, nose running, and my body convulsing in coughing fits.
I'm using a Honda motorbike key on a Yamaha.
No debit card.
My body - covered in bruises to the point that it looks like I'm beaten at home.
Road rash all up my arm.
Ant bites covering my right butt cheek.
Lost cell phone.
My motorbike - thrashed.
Gym key - rocketed into the jungle at the bottom of Kata hill.

One year in Thailand and my life: shambles. 

Let's Tarantino this.

Friday night: Electro Dance Party. I went out with a few of my friends to the beach for a DJ competition and dance extravaganza. It was amazing. A-Mazing. If you haven't figured out how much I love electronic music by this point, let me be clear, I LOVE IT! However, decisions were made. Mistake #1: I disregarded my own smarts/party advice and didn't wear my fanny pack! I went with a clutch as the keeper of my personal belongings and in a fit of joy - threw down the clutch on stage - where it was collected by someone who was not my friend, nor party ally.

That's right, my purse with my cell phone, my debit card, and my motorbike key was scooped up by some participant in the Countdown Dance Party - leaving me without any of the necessary items for conducting my day to day operations. Blast!

Saturday morning: 4 a.m. (Finishing Dancing)

The crew gives up on getting back my clutch and we pile into a tuk tuk taxi towards home. I get to my motorbike...and check out this security concern - Ross, my housemate, has a Honda motorbike key that ends up unlocking and starting my Yamaha motorbike! WHAT??! Yes, fact. With a substitute motorbike key, I drove my bike home and immediately pass out for the night.

Saturday afternoon: 12 p.m. (New Year's Eve)

Though still a little groggy, I started to make moves. I successfully went to the bank, took out money, unpacked my spare cell phone (at 15 dollars for a phone here - people tend to have a backup), and stated to get my life back together after a whirlwind of a night. I had been hired to work that evening in Patong (crazy party city) to host a New Year's party at a resort on the beach (due to my understanding of the English language), so I had to get my game face on for another wild night out. My friends wanted me to call myself "DJ Nikki Dubs" hahaha - honestly? I had to explain that I wasn't a DJ, just a host for a gala event. A fancy resort party thing - definitely not a place for me to take on the roll of DJ Nikki Dubs!...or fuck with the party! You stop that, meow, ya hear? (I don't take advantage of speaking a foreign language enough.)

Saturday night: 7 p.m. - Midnight.

I'm at the resort and it is looking like it is going to be one of the most fun New Year's yet. Let's just say that the hotel was ballin' out. They had more seafood and international cuisine than I had ever seen for an event in Thailand, scheduled events like Cabaret, Thai martial arts, a fantastic band, and a non English speaking audience. I could do no wrong. I immediately went into server mode from my waitressing days and it worked. I went up to all of the tables, spoke to Finish families in broken English, and apparently schmoozed with Malaysian celebrities. It was a ton of fun and it was just laid back for me. Since I was one of the only fluent English speakers - no one could really tell if I was making sense or being informative about the events in any way - nor did they care. I ended up just playing silly games with people, giving away prizes, and talking a lot of shit. I had no idea what I was doing, but the hotel thought that I did a great job, so mission accomplished? At midnight, I was still in control of the microphone (who thought that was a good idea?), on stage with a bottle of champagne, and initiating the countdown with a group of belligerent Bulgarians and Thai ladyboys. Yup, it was super bizarre, but amazing.

Sunday morning: 1 a.m. (New Year's Night)

I hit the party scene. Everyone was fighting the traffic, picking up booze, and meeting up in the heart of Patong - carried along by the intensity of the night. The bars and clubs could barely contain the crowds armed with silly sting, buckets of alcohol, and rage in their hearts. There were beach parties, New Year's mayhem, and some of my favorite people on the island to see.

 Ross, Tom, and I out and about - seconds before Ross started dancing on the poll directly behind us. 

Yup.....who says you can't smoke while pole dancin'?

Mistake #2: No that is not a bow. Joe put his head in the line of fire of a...well, firework. He visited a hospital shortly after and was the first one of our friends to need medical attention while ringing in the new year. (Little did I know that by the morning we would end up with 2 out of about 10 of us injured in some way....not good odds.)

Sunday morning: 6:30 a.m. (Still dancing)

Sunday morning: 7:30 a.m. (Sun is up - still partying)


Sunday morning: 8:00 a.m.
I'm on my motorbike, sober, but exhausted. Beyond exhausted - dead on my feet. I was at the exhausted state where it was dangerous to be operating a motor vehicle and I knew it. I pulled over at what looked like a little hotel and had a conversation with my shoulder angels:

Good reason angel: "Look, Nicola, you are falling asleep - you should just get a hotel room for a couple of hours to sleep and chill before driving home."
Bad reason angel: "Girl, you have to leave for a climbing trip in 5 hours. Get your ass home! It is 30 minutes to your casa - just get real, get on your bike, and get on with it. Quit wasting time."

(Mistake #3)
I spent 10 minutes going back and forth between the two rationals before I got on my bike and started the journey to my house. I was driving over the last hill to my house - in half sleep mode - when I felt myself jolt awake. I woke up just in time to see myself slam right into the back of another motorbike driving up Kata hill (One of the largest hills on the way back to my place). Still in sleep mode, I was like a rag doll - maybe what saved my life. My motorbike slid out from underneath me and I hit the asphalt. Immediately I felt like I had been rocked. I got up slowly and the man who had been on the other bike and had avoided going down - grabbed my bike, the remainders of my scattered belongings, and turned them over to a keeled over Nicola on the side of the road. It took me about 5 minutes for me to get my barrings, as I was definitely feeling the crash and my hip was immediately killing me.

Sunday afternoon: 12 p.m.

At home. I wake up to Ross calling me to get ready for our climbing trip. I'm in shambles. I can't walk. My hip is hurting so badly that I can barely move. We decide to bail on climbing and Ross takes me to the hospital. At my quaint little hospital, complete with blatant religious affiliation, luckily the x-rays show no broken bones, so I hobble away with crutches andddd, actually, an injection of pain medication - not to be administered by a physician - but by meeeee. Ummm...wow, not ready for that type of initiative. Nicola at 12 p.m. on Sunday: less dignity than before, but lucky as hell.

Monday night: 12 a.m. (Mistake #4: drinking with friends at their place and waiting for the late night DJ to come on at 2 a.m.)

Tuesday afternoon: 12 p.m. (Mutha Fuckin' Cherry On Top)
I came home after Monday's night of escapades with a bag of chips and a jar of salsa - which I proceeded to devour. After spending the morning at the beach, hung over me scooped up my cat to cuddle with him in my hammock. I felt a little bit of discomfort on my side. "Wow", I thought, "that sand is a little rough." False, it was not sand. Suddenly, feeling a million little stings on my ass, I jump out of the hammock to discover that one rouge chip was being snacked on by a pack of fire ants and I now had about 20 little demon ants biting the hell out of my butt cheek! Are you kidding me????? Hahaha fire ants! Throw me a god damn bone here!

Tuesday night 12: (Sickness brewing and I'm convinced that I'm dying.)

And that brings us to the present.....

Wednesday night: 7 p.m. (Actually dying....kinda)
After a day of school (a.k.a. my normal life), I'm sick, without any of my possessions, bruised, battered, scraped, bitten, and feeling the toll of Thailand. On my 1 year anniversary in Thailand, I made it full circle to Patong, had my first motorbike accident, realized that I must have damaged my frontal lobe, because I am a lucky piece of shit for being able to walk away from the weekend with just Thai tattoos (scars) and fire ant bites, but no broken bones or serious injuries....except to my dignity.

Disclaimer: (I am really embarrassed about the crash that I had and I am unbelievably thankful that I didn't seriously hurt anyone else or myself.)

Epilogue:
2011 went out with a bang, a crash, a night of chaos, and celebrations of epic proportions. I understand that I have been living as though on a roller coaster for a year now, but I'm finding my groove. In fact, I just ended up telling my school that I want to do another year here. Yes, I want to do another year despite the 4 days of chaos that I just struggled through. I'm finding a place to live for the next bit of time here and it looks like I'm staying put for a little while longer. I've learned some lessons this last year, battled through some emotional hardships, been beaten down by Thailand in many ways, learned about the amazing culture and language here, found friendship, love in my surroundings, and family in unexpected places. Maybe this New Year's weekend is a representation of my life here - a whirlwind of tests - mentally and physically, challenges, adventures, good times, epic memories, and cultural clashes - blossoming into a magical life. I'm still not a real adult - my frontal lobe is still not all there...but 8 year old Nicola is up and kicking, living out a dream, and exploring the possibilities of a new year.

Here's to 2012. "Cheers" my friends, or as we say in Thailand, "Choke dee!"