Part 3 – ooooohhhh weeeee. Rainstorms and glow paint and shakes, oh my!

After a few days of fun in the non-sun, it was time to join the other ladies in Phang-Nga for the culminating event of the week – the non-Full Moon party. We had to take another ferry to the island, which sucked in a storm. We had all gotten comfortable in a pile of luggage and people on deck when we were covered with huge black clouds and pelted with tons of rain.

Most of us tried to stick it out for a while, but it didn’t take long for all of us to get forced below deck. This created a gross, crowded scene of wet people, some still drunk from the night before. Ugh.

We landed on the island in the heat of the storm, and only escaped by piling 7 girls, with luggage, into the pickup truck cab from our guesthouse. Don’t worry – it was only a little cramped. Marianne’s accent took up a ton of room – she all of a sudden became super-Brit when she made friends with a few people from her home country. But she DID save my ass in the rain – so maybe I should let it slide ;)

After eating and settling in, we realized that it was 5pm on NYE, and we were a little bored. The party didn’t really start until 11 or so …

Remember those disgusting mixes of cheap vodka, fruit juice and soda that you used to drink in college? Well, we brought those back with style, and I have to say that they did the job. There’s just something about a mixed drink in a bucket that gets me going, you know? It was time to party.

After getting sufficiently drunk we headed to the beach to get painted. Yes, painted. I wore a bikini, a sarong and a ton of glowing body paint on NYE. It was a beach party, man. Trust me, I wasn’t the only one.

The entire length of the beach was covered with gorgeous international backpackers in very little clothing, under the influence of all kinds of drugs and alcohol. Each bar’s dance floor spilled out onto the beach, and blared variations of techno and pop music that seemed to blend and mix itself as you walked from party to party. Everyone was dancing, smiling, having a great time. We spent several hours crawling from one scene to the next, dancing on stages, downing buckets, making new friends and otherwise having a phenomenal time. The music pulsed so much you couldn’t help but be energized – sometimes it almost felt like I was tripping because the music seemed to be making my heart beat faster.

I love guys from other countries because they don’t play games. “You’re hot. I want to have sex with you.” “Wow, thanks, you’re hot too. But I’m dancing now – maybe later?”

And he really was hot – but I really did want to dance.

The countdown came and went way too fast – apparently there were fireworks, but I was too busy standing in the water talking to my mommy to notice. Good thing Kim got a video to remind us of those, because we all seemed to loose track around midnight or so.

You know how you drunk dial people sometimes and get all lovey and say a bunch of sweet things you normally wouldn’t say? I guess I did this to my mom … which is why she forgives me for screaming drunkenly in her ear for a solid 10 minutes.

So we continued to dance – I made a new Australian friend … and around 2am we decided that we needed a water break. A little pick-me-up. Which we found at Magic Mountain, or Mushroom Mountain, or something like that, in the form of a “special shake.”

I mean, you know how you hear all of those warnings about strict drug laws in Thailand? Well, this place was on a huge cliff, overlooking a huge crowded beach, and had a number of large billboards advertising all of the drugs you could purchase there. As soon as you pass the door, a huge Thai woman attacks you and asks you what you want, listing off a number of options that my virgin ears had never ever heard of. Unreal guys, unreal.

I won’t spill the beans on who had what, who stayed clean, etc, but I will say that we all continued the night well into the morning, finally crawling back into our bungalows around 6:30am. We got back mostly unharmed, except for Marianne who managed to step on the meanest piece of glass ever and slice open her foot. The girl didn’t even mention it all night – only when she started leaving paths of blood in the sand did we know something was wrong. And then she just kept on walking and dancing, still bleeding, until we were all ready to go home.

I guess those Brits just really like to party. I guess it’s just karma and she had to pay – her night ended better than anyone else’s. ;)

Of course, we had been walking around barefoot, in the streets and on the disgusting beach, covered in paint and sweat and beer and sand and everything else for hours. We needed to shower.

We get in the bungalows … and there’s NOOOO water. So we try to bathe in the ocean, only to realize that we are on a huge sandbar and have to walk a mile to find water that’s deeper than a couple of inches. I sat on the sand bar and splashed myself like a small child, looking like an idiot. Then I was just covered in salt. At least I tried.

I woke up at noon when my mom called to wish me a happy NY, EST. She reminded me of all the nice things I said to her, which I vehemently deny to this day.

We pretty much wasted New Year’s Day, sort of wandering and shopping and eating piles of fried noodles. I took a terrible ferry/bus/bus/bus ride home on the 2nd. The boat almost tipped in a swell, the bus dropped me in the middle of Bangkok at 3am, and I had to camp out in the bus station. I finally made it home Saturday night, after leaving the islands on Friday morning. But the party was worth it – cheers to the craziest NYE of my life.

Choke dee in 2009. My New Year’s resolution – try not to eat as much as Nate anymore.