Thursday, 17 October 2013

Miracles Can Happen.

I was dreading weigh in on Monday morning predominantly because I had made the most fattening roast the day before - everything tasted so good because it was coated in large quantities of butter before being shoved in the oven (and then for good measure I threw in a bit more butter). I had no complaints though - everyone said it was beaut (their arteries however thought otherwise).

After lying on the sofa upside down for the next 45 minutes, seriously regretting that last parsnip a wave of guilt (or perhaps just nausea from over eating) came across me and the thought of weigh in the following day made me literally hurl. It was a sleepless night...because I'm hooked on Homeland and finished a season in 3 days (think I might sack off Vogue for the CIA). Monday morning was a very unwelcome sight and even more so were the scales that had be deliberately left out in the bathroom for me. Cheers Geeta.

'Be brave Billie'/ ' Why did you eat that roast?!' - was my mantra and before I could force myself to be sick, I jumped on to the scales. Annoyed that I had to wear my glasses because they could contribute to any extra poundage I was shocked to see what the scales read. So much so, I bounded off the scales, checked they were set to 0 and bounced back on again. 2 STONES DOWN. GET IN. (what a yob).

Quite shockingly I had actually reached my target of 2 stones in 2 months. Whilst I had loosely stuck to Zack's diet plan because no one should have to endure that much spinach or sweet potato ever, there had been a few hiccoughs/hiccups (depending on your preference of spelling, I prefer the pretentious version obvs) along the way. You know the kind that just keeps persisting, you drink water, you hold your breath, you anticipate somewhere scaring you...because you have asked them to and still the hiccoughs don't cease. Those kids of hiccoughs, you can't help it so you just let them carry on.

A hiccough that continually torments me is Newcastle. Every time I go, it destroys me. Considering the most wild thing that had happened that week was buying a remote control for the DVD player in the gym so it meant I wasn't forced to watch the trailers all over again when Zack had a moment and pressed the 'open' button instead of 'play'. One job, Zack. So when I heard that Shariat was hosting a RedBull party, coupled with the fact that Alice and I are unemployed and don't need to abide by school night etiquette we thought hellz yes - let's go. I had a PT session that day and definitely underplayed to Zack how easily influenced I am when out with any Mayville girls, I'm sorry I lied. Shariat did us proud though and the party was incredible, even though I couldn't fully coax Alice into a breakdancing battle with the pros (don't worry, she hasn't lost it - the second the ring of people started to disappear she jumped straight in there, snaking it like a PCD).

Perhaps a few too many RedBull cocktails later, the snaking got a lot more loose. A reliable source then told us that Razor Light were at the party, and despite not knowing any Razor Light songs and only that Jonny Borrel once dated Emma Watson we were on the man hunt. After a 2 minute look around we got bored of the celeb hunt and refocussed our attention on Grand Master Flash - so much so we were oblivious to the fact that suddenly half the crowd were naked.

So since Shaz had the key to warehouse we needed to stay until the very end when everyone had dragged themselves away from the free bar. Reluctant to actually be helpful because I was at that drunk stage where you're totally selfish, Alice and I stumbled into the VIP room and found three guys sitting in there. A quick glance at each other and we both had the same thought...RAZOR LIGHT?!

Queue hair tousle and a quick pucker up. Alice performed the worm to much applause, and I necked a bottle of beer to much less was going well. After 5 minutes Alice disappeared and Jonny Borrel was firmly in sight. After an hour of my best moves, mission accomplished. I went to find every one else, skipping over to Alice in glee to tell her that I had pulled the guy from Razor world was quickly shattered.

Alice restraining her snorting laughter flashed a picture on her phone of Razor Light and then burst into fits of giggles. Perhaps not so shockingly the boys in the VIP were in fact not Razor Light. Great. An hour of my life wasted on a boy called Glen. Excellent. All devastation was quickly forgotten when we arrived at the 24 hour bakery (soz Zack) and we ordered pretty much everything in sight.

Much happier after the bakery visit. 

Safe to say the next day I was not in a good place. The sugar in the RedBull had kindly disguised how smashed I actually was and when Alice cracked open a can on the way home I thought I was going to be sick. Constantly calling people on the way home to try and get out our dark depression we arrived home wishing not to see any more RedBull for a long time.

With 3 Weeks left until Vogue commences, I am trying to keep the hiccoughs down to a minimum and Asos shopping to a maximum. Although with all my confessions in here I think I might be made to plank from now until November 4th. Bleurgh.

Fatty BB xxx

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