Tonight I have a hen’s party to go to. As much as I would love it to be a party with a chicken it alas is not.
I am having a body crisis today and feel like staying in, drinking beer and playing some Dragon Age. Why is a fly hottay such as me feeling this way? Because I am crap at being a girl.
My legs have begun to reject razors so all week I have been sporting terribly sore shaving rash legs. As I am going to a party and an all girl party at that, I feel I should wear a “party dress”. Alas though they all require some form of legs on show action. I tried to hide them in, what Mr Pigalina declared, “weird looking” footless tights. That was the end of that.
I could wear jeans but I don’t possess a girly clubbing top. I only have a large collection of novelty tshirts.
I went to another friend’s hen party (pole dancing lessons) in my Iron Maiden tshirt. Everyone else turned up in girly yoga wear. I felt a weeeeee bit of an outsider.
Then there is the whole hair and makeup sitch. I don’t do makeup unless it is for costume parties. Sometimes I will chuck on mascara to stop my eyes disappearing. Then there is the skin issue. Anyone that is good at applying foundation and powder has had years of practice. I have had none. My skin is prone to looking terrible without layering it up under paint. The consequences would be dire. Every lump and bump would be magnified and the pores I so desperately tried to hide would be filled with gunk further adding to my problems. So, I go naked faced which, when alcohol is added, turns red easily. Add to that I have crazy white eye circles which give me the appearance of one who fell asleep in the sun with cucumbers on her eyes.
Lets not even get started on my crap, crap hair that cannot hold a style.
So, even if I feel good about myself when I leave the house I will feel bad about myself the next day when I see the photographic evidence which inevitably ends up all over Facebook.
So here I am, in the bathroom, guzzling beer and trying to rack my brains as to how I’ll fit in tonight.