summer holiday

On 12 July I was due to meet two people I had met once from gumtree at Luton Airport to catch a flight to Nimes in order to spend two weeks at a naturist resort in the South of France. So what did I do? On the night before, I went out in Camden Town. Met a man (let's call him "N (small mouth") from an internet dating site and then various friends joined us in the pub.

I proceeded to get quite drunk, got in a big argument with T, then carried on drinking. N (small mouth) lives in Camden, so after the pub chucked us out, a group of us went back to his to carry on drinking. On one hand, I knew I was pissed and had to get up early for a flight - I therefore switched to water. On the other hand, it was already gone 2am and I had been drinking for hours - not even close to sobering up.

Aforementioned friends went out to get more booze. In the meantime, N (small mouth) and I started getting-it-on on the floor of his lounge. Interupted by the buzzer (friends were back with booze), we then retired to his bedroom and fucked in a clumsy-due-to-too-much-booze sort of way. Twice.

He fell asleep (though after begging me to stay over and me refusing). I decided to SORT MY SHIT OUT. It was 6am. I was still drunk. My flight was in five hours. I caught a night bus home. It was 7am. I considered leaving for the airport right away. I decided that I could do with 45 minutes kip before heading to the airport.

Next thing I knew, I awoke to a text from friend from previous night saying she hoped I got off ok. It was 10:30. FUCK. My flight was at 11:15 from Luton and I was still in London. I rang friend in a panic. Should I get a cab and try to rush to Luton? No, there wasn't enought time. I had to cut my losses, ring the people I didn't really know in order to tell them that I was a flake and was going to miss the flight, and then book another flight for the following day. There is only one flight a day from London to Nimes and it is by RyanAir.

FuckFuckFuck. I hyperventiliated. I cried. I rang my brother. I rang my ex-husband. I rang all my friends who would listen. I rang my mother. I booked a flight (for an extra 120 squid) for the following day and then I started to sober up and get a hangover. I was depressed. I had argued with a close friend. I had missed my flight for a holiday I was looking forward to for months. I wondered whether I had a drinking problem, or some other deep seated personality disorder that caused me to act in self-destructive ways.

N(small mouth) texted to say he had fun last night and that he hoped I had a good time in France. I told him I missed my flight. He offered to buy me lunch out of guilt. I accepted and whinged the entire time.

Fast forward to two days later - I was in a naturist resort in sunny France, lounging naked in the sun, surrounding by other naked people. It was grand. Two whole weeks of being naked in France, sunny weather, swimming in the river, hiking, cheese, and reading. Life was good again.