The Globe and Mail
7.6.15 | ZOSIA BIELSKI
Coming to after another “rager” left her blackout drunk, Sarah Hepola would joke about creating a new TV show: CSI: Hangover. Armed with gloves and tweezers, Hepola, an editor at Salon.com, envisioned herself picking through the filth of her apartment looking for clues of what had gone on the night before – “detective work on your own life.”
Hepola’s startling new memoir Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget tracks her heavy-drinking days and propensity to conk out and forget large swaths of time and raucous behaviour in between. “My evenings come with trapdoors,” writes Hepola, who opens the book with a troubling anecdote: coming to mid-sex with a stranger in an unfamiliar hotel room in Paris.
For Hepola, who is now sober, booze had always been the “gasoline of all adventure,” a “comet” in her veins. She started sneaking sips of beer from half empty cans in the fridge at age 7: “Nobody thought a little girl would steal beer,” she writes. By age 12, she experienced her first blackout during a summer party at an arcade, where she vomited seven times, cried and took her pants off. “It was a blueprint,” writes Hepola.
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