So, tomorrow I'm going to a three day mega-rave in Camber Sands called the Bang Face weekender. Bang Face being a club night in London where people dance to crazy break core music and chuck inflatable smiley faces at each other. It's all very silly.
I'm mostly looking forward to this very much, since last year was heaps of fun. It's at Pontins, which means no need for tents. This is very good news for me since, being what you'd find in the dictionary under the definition of 'girl', I loathe tents with a deadly loathing. I can never sleep, my back hurts, they're too cold or too hot and never anywhere in between and they invariably involve a lack of showers and peeing somewhere undignified.
Not so with Bang Face! There are proper beds, proper toilets, a proper shower. There's brilliant, crazy music all weekend long. There's an arcade with loads of games (including dance mats, which are surely the greatest thing since the last greatest thing), a beautiful beach nearby and, best of all, a party in the swimming pool, which is the stuff that dreams (well, my dreams anyway) are made of. I think there's very little that the addition of a swimming pool or some water chutes can't improve.
However, careful observers will have noted that I'm only 'mostly' looking forward to this. Why not more? The answer is that the ex-boyfriend, him from three posts down, is also going. And we were all happy and together when we booked it. And we were REALLY happy and together when we were there last year. Fortunately there's approx. 8,000 of us going (well, about 30) so I don't have to share a chalet with him. But I do have to be in the same place as him, something I have done for more than about 20 minutes in three and a half months.
How will I react? Last time, I stared at the floor, felt pretty naseaous, and grabbed my dearest friend as soon as she arrived and made her take me somewhere else. This isn't really an option this time since there is nowhere else and, much to my distress (and hers!) my dearest friend can't come to Bang Face cos of her flingin flangin exams.
One part of me feels that this is just about choices, and that if I choose to be grown up and polite and not get upset, I can do so. Another part of me knows I'll spend the whole weekend staring at the floor and feeling slightly naseaous and wishing my dearest friend could come and save me.
Which way will I turn? Only time can tell I guess!
Perhaps I'm being bitter and spiteful not wanting to be friends with him any more. He wants to be friends with me. But I think it would hurt my brain too much, and my brain hurts enough anyway. I have my reasons. Most of the time, they sound convincing. I don't know.
And here's something on a different note... what am I gonna do with this blog? Do I let everyone see it and risk their wrath? Do I email a few select people and look very full of myself for assuming they'll be interested? What is the point of it if no-one sees it? Will I be reviled and hated if everyone sees it? Hmmm. Something to ponder.