Fabulista Might: Miss the Kwala2 nights.

After a day of sashaying, strutting and posing – and that’s only the trainees’ lessons, Fabulista was spent. There’s nothing else to do but pack up, make like a tree and leave. For the day, that is.

Went for dinner with the Kwala-ists and numbed myself with a couple of shots and a jug of Margaritas. It’s amazing how alcohol is such a catalyst for happiness and joy – ha ha. However, one might not want to head out to Café Iguana for such happiness shots – the prices there are exhorbitant!

I left, sufficiently boozed up and joyous, as the sky opened up in a roaring downpour. As the hems of my trousers got drenched by the heavy showers, I took a good look at the place and its patrons. I left the place roaring into the night and drowning in shots of happiness, surrounded by friends. The place was alive with the sound of alcohol induced buzz!

In contrast, I wonder what I’d feel on the last day at Wannabe Training School. I wonder what I’d feel as I throw it a last glance and feel the distance forever growing wider, forever losing its demonic clutches on the Fabulista and fabulousness.

Oh, what the heck! I am so not going to miss it. Just make like a hockey and get the puck out of there! Good luck to the nepotists!