Tuesday, April 27, 2004


Camp Monday

Camp Monday was seven of us, not-sleeping on the wet ground, drinking three fifths of liquor (Rum, Scotch, Tequila), smoking in the Russian owned hot springs, watching Steve play with his fly rod, aiding the regurgitation of others, marshmallows, campfire quesidillas, inflaming jealousy, a renewed appreciation of Shauna, a re-invigorated adoration of Steve, an increasing affection for Matthew, and of course a debriefing breakfast at Carver Cafe. Since I couldn't sleep all night, I was a bit grumperella in the morning. I ended up putting on every item of clothing I had with me and curling up in the backseat of my car just to get some wee early morning shut-eye. Then I stumbled back to the hot springs, and Shauna was already there. I wasn't grumperella any more, not after that good long soak. I haven't felt this relaxed (even without sleep) in I can't remember how long.

I really have to take a poo!

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