Thursday, 26 April 2007

Whinge, Whinge, Whinge.

I'm having one of those days. I like to call them Bad Face Days, although at the moment it seems more like a Bad Face Week. You know when you just look at yourself and no matter how much make up you put on (or how little - au naturel style) within about 5 minutes, or after a trip to the window to see how I look in daylight...or after I put my contact lenses in and can actually see what I'm doing...I'm like 'urrrrrrgh, I look funny'. And every other girl just seems to radiate effortless beauty. Watching the misfits on the Jezza Show this morning did make me feel slightly better though. One of the women on it today looked fully like a man so it was pretty funny when, after asking for a DNA test to sort out some parentage issue, she said 'Most people say I look like my dad'. You're not wrong there, sunshine.

On the up side, the snowboarding finals beckon and ten of us are off to London for the weekend. Amazingly the weather report says it's going to be a WHOLE 23 DEGREES!!! Which is positively boiling (those in sunnier countries can wipe that smug look off their faces NOW). Hurrah for pasty legs! Hurrah for Johnson's Holiday Skin Body Lotion! Hurrah for over enthusiastic sunbathing and getting burnt!

Which brings me to next problemo: I have this ball on Saturday in Kensington and, woe of woes, I don't know what to wear. The Karen Millen black number, or the F&F bargain that hasn't been worn yet? Whats worse is that my boyfriend insists that it doesn't matter, because no matter what girls wear no one notices anyway. His suggestion is a tuxedo. Thanks, love. So apparently if I'm having a BFD, not even a pretty dress can save me now. Why do blokes not understand? What dress you wear does matter, doesn't it??


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