podeamBungalow Seven
There’s something bout the past chalet – local colloquialism which refers to renting of a holiday bungalow/house, lounging around lazily, gorging on food, playing silly games, and/or (or even /while) getting piss drunk – that has set me thoroughly at ease.
I had nothing to prove. I was calm, I was relaxed, and I was thoroughly silly.
And it was fun.
I’d like to say that amazing camaraderie was established (it was sommat like an bonding experience; we were almost all strangers) but that would be a lie, and liars go to hell. In fact, I don’t think I made any real connections with anyone; not till the very last day when some of us were insane enough to head on down to the BodyShop warehouse sale after check out.
But it was still fun.
It was nice to think that I could leave behind the person who’s bent on success (how terribly unappealing, I know), and try be an average teenager; ie lounging around lazily, gorging on food, playing silly games, and/or (or even /while) getting piss drunk.
Huzzah for bungalow seven.
Now, I need to try contact people. Silly me forgot to reciprocate when people were asking me for my number. Oh woe is the teenaged mind.