As I inhaled sharply, I felt the hands on my back, tugging. I could practically see his face grimacing as he put all his muscle into the task, grunting and pulling. I think I felt a rib crack – and then he was done. Attempting to exhale, I walked slowly over to the bedroom mirror to survey the damage. And although he didn’t say anything, as I made my way to the mirror, I already knew it: the dress I wanted to wear to the ball didn’t fit.
Of course, it was my procrastinating, OK and overeating, that almost left me dress-less the night before the ball. But who has time for trying stuff on? Especially when you know there’s a chance it might not fit. I have to hand it to Woodstock though. He didn’t laugh once as he struggled to zip up the dress, leaving me looking like a stuffed sausage. He also didn’t launch into a diatribe about how I need to start doing 100 crunches a day or anything like that. He just … stayed silent. Which was good. Anyway, I had another dress in my inventory so I just put that one on and put on a tiara with it for good measure. You know how I do! So, long story short, here’s some pictures from the 2006 Lightning Ball, Hooah! Enjoy.
Aw, ain't we sweet! Peep the tiara!
Wood and an OBC buddy
Me and the girls (sorry, it's distorted but I tried to do this night vision s--t and f'd it up. This blogging is harder than it looks!)