Full Mooners

She done dancing and she is DONE dancing and dancing done her. 

A little pre-dancing snorkel had done in her sinuses which she then numbed with some chuck a buck whisky bucket, which held her over to admire the highlights of the full moon party: 18 year olds everywhere, 18 year old humping in the water, 18 year olds being dragged out of the water where they passed out while vomiting, 18 year olds climbing up scaffolding that hosted the various sound stages, 18 year olds as far as the eye could see. 

The party was fabulous and grand but if you are not 18 and if you have traveled alone before or lived in Miami or if you have stayed out all night before (like, totally all night without like a curfew) or if you have been to beach parties before, then maybe there is that little part of you that says, this was cool but no, I won't be telling my grandchildren all about it. And actually that is a nice feeling:  this one is now happy to relax on the beach and she won't be crying for more and more and more dancing for a little while.  

The fabulous side effect of our last crazy bash was that now we are friends with everyone from our little island (Koh Tao) who took the boat with us to and from the party - the return journey at 5am deafening affair of Puff Daddy and Madonna. 

Most everyone also took a souvenir back home from Koh Phangan: some guys a black eye, someone a gash on their arm, me and fancy a cold and then there are the numerous multi day hangovers to cure. Now we are sitting first row beach side during the day, commiserating about the toughness of life and at night wander down along the beach visiting the various establishments that offer fire shows and candle lit beach dinners. 

Tomorrow the diving will begin.