Saturday, November 3, 2012

ice queen at the ball

"And your heart is a stone buried underneath your pretty clothes."

Disclaimer: I'm a wee bit tipsy at the time of writing this post.

Cinderella at the ball, that's what SPM calls me. Cinderella with her glass slippers and Prince Charming and pumpkin carriage. I don't think I'll ever feel like that. My shoes were killing me by the end of the night and I wasn't about to take them off and go barefoot on the alcohol soaked dance floor. 

And I had to be on the dance floor to soak up all the calories that I ate. I left half my dinner, but it still felt like too much. 

Dinner is finished and most people are dancing. I'm sitting with Rich. Sitting, in the loosest sense of the word. We are sort of on chairs, I'm lying on him mostly, one of his hands is squeezing my left boob and his other hand is sliding up and down my thighs. His lips are glued to my neck when we're not whispering to each other. And no, I haven't had a complete turn around in my personality, he's only allowed to do that stuff to me because he's gay. He's my gay best friend and we are whispering about his boyfriend. 

He's telling me about how much he loves my boobs and my legs and how one day I will make some guy very happy. It's obvious he's just started having sex and now wants everyone to experience it. The sentiment is rather sweet but the thought of it makes me ill. 

There are a few guys trying to get close to me but I give them a look. Apparently that look of mine is infamous and it makes guys cower. None of them are allowed to touch me, but they still try. I'm pretty cold to them. I hate them. Nothing sickens me more than the thought of men grabbing all my fat. It makes me feel so disgusting. 

Everything about the night makes me feel fat. The food, the champagne, my tight dress and my skinny friends. 

"You're getting too skinny," Rich whispers in my as he squeezes the fat on my thighs. "Don't lose any more weight, you are skinny enough." I imagine how skinny I'd be if I hadn't lived with German guys who force fed me. Fucking hot German guys who I would've happily fucked if I had ever been drunk enough. 

How did I ever get to this point, almost 23 and never had a boyfriend, never been kissed, let alone have sex. Being felt up by my gay best friend is the most sexual experience I've ever had. Another one of my guy friends is trying to get at me. He's got his arms around me whenever he is around and nuzzles into my neck. I'm not flattered. I know how blind drunk he is. Blind being the operative word. 

All in all it was a night of binge drinking, beautiful shoes (but painful feet) and more male attention than I've ever had. Still, fat was everywhere. 

Stupid fat. Literally gets in the way. 


  1. God reading this is like seeing into my own head!
    I feel your pain, i know exactly what you are talking about and in the same boat.

  2. Hi, I've just started reading your blog and you sound exactly like me, except slightly older. This is scarily close to home, but I love this blog, and totally agree with you about the curvy issue too. Plus I love the picture of the tattooed girl at the top. You may have just become my favourite blogger in the space of a few posts. Sorry that's burbly but I'm kinda speechless. asdfghjkl