Whoever found my blog by Googling 'Daisy Lowe thinspo'- get a grip. Scientists have proved that looking at 'thinspo' pictures over long periods of time actually changes our perception of 'normal', conditioning us to recognise anyone fleshier than an anorexic pencil as overweight.
(Now that I've started talking about Thinspo, I bet some curious readers will look for it on the internet... Don't. Look at Fatspo instead.)
Anyway, sorry it's been a while since my last post, I have soooooooo much to tell you, but every time I settle down to write, I manage to type about three setences with the on-screen keyboard before I either have to go somewhere or I get so frustrated that I close the laptop in a huff. But the longer I leave it, the more things happen that I want to blog about and if I leave it any longer I'll have a backlog of about three weeks and it makes my mind feel messy.
So. The first thing I want to say is: I am NEVER going to Le Blue Note EVER again. For those of you who don't know, Le Blue Note is a tiny 'club' in the 18th where they have live Brazilian jazz and samba music. We went a few times last year because the music was fun to dance to and it's free to get in, but the last two times we went it was full of horrid, pushy men so we sacked it off. Then last Saturday, the weekend Kayt's friends were here, we decided to give it one last chance...
Half an hour after arriving, we were forced to make ourselves a men-free paddock in the corner by making a barricade out of chairs. This meant we could dance about happily without being groped or grabbed by the arm and spun around. I know it sounds like we were being bitches, but we know from experience that if you try being polite and give any of the men at Le Blue Note a little dance Just For Jokes, they will not leave you alone for the rest of the night.
So that's why we penned ourselves into the corner. The Horrid Men gathered around the perimeter of our Safety Zone like hyenas, pacing up and down and staring at us. One of them eventually started to pull apart our barricade of chairs, saying we were creating a 'health and safety' risk.
I don't know why the men, who all seemed to have come to the club on their own (weird), were so angry and astonished that a group of young girls wasn't up for being groped by them. It's RIDICULOUS. At one point some of our group ventured out of the Safety Zone to go for a fag and I saluted them as they stepped across the threshold, into the sweaty jungle of Horrid Men.
Our Safety Zone didn't last long. After a couple of songs, one of the Weird Men who was stalking around the chairs in a scarf and coat, clapping us like we were dancers in his private harem, decided that blocking him out of the group with chairs was our way of saying 'We like you a lot, please come and give us attention.' He strode through a weak spot in the defense line and lunged at Kayt's friend Lynn, trying to kiss her on the mouth. Obviously we swarmed around him, swearing and being Aggy, but it was too late. The attack had started. A bouncer came along and moved all the chairs as they were taking up too much room and once again, we had to suffer strange men yanking our arms out of their sockets as they tried to spin us around the dance floor.
So. I'm never going to the Blue Note again. And that is all I've got time for today. Tonight some of us girls are having a nice, romantic meal together to celebrate the fact that none of us has a horrible, arsehole boyfriend.