entry #73 - VANISHED cream

                                    

                                          
⚠️ mentions of drugs !⚠️
Marriott Hotel
Denver, Colorado
1992/10/10
08:45 on the clock 
Today's been an eventful day for my diary. 
Carpal tunnel syndrome, here I come ! 
'Maybe I'll wear this one! But the other one is soooo pretty, too!' I speak, towering in front of the mirror, and taking a look at my reflection. My reflection, and the reflection of Sean, who's half laying in bed, half naked... smoking what I reckon to be hashish, and staring at my ass like he doesn't have a care in the world. I wouldn't have a care in the world either, if I were able to afford unlimited hashish, city view hotel rooms with 7ft tall mirrors, air conditioning, a bathtub, linen sheets, and a big, big minibar. I wouldn't have a care in the world either, if I could share all of my rocker privileges with a chick I wanna fuck. But he doesn't just wanna fuck me. Tonight, he doesn't wanna fuck me at all, and if I didn't have him well figured out in my mind ... I'd be concerned. But I have him well figured out, and I feel safe to say that sitting me on his thigh, when I was doing my possible sluttiest to charm him into giving it to me, just to drink Tequila from the bottle, smoke hashish and talk an awful lot, was a very Sean thing of Sean. 
We talked and smoked and drank for a little while, until I hopped off his lap, stood up, put some music up, put a cigarette between my lips... and began to seize the bunch of dresses that I will bring with myself to Bessie's room. The girls and I are going to catch up at Bessie's, so that Chrissie and her will help me get ready for my date night out with Sean. And we'll gossip a lot, while I do my makeup and choose which dress to wear. Definitely, not the one I'm wearing right now, although it's undoubtedly pretty. White, sleeveless, deep v back, and very, very tight. If I've decided to slip off my nightgown to try this one on, it's because I was afraid it wouldn't fit me anymore. Surprise: it fits me like the day I tried it on at the Ross Dress for Less in Seattle, and I definitely ain't as fat as Cuntrell wants me to believe I am. I am looking like a slightly hotter, more sexually promiscuous version of a mummy, in this little white dress, but I'm not fat. Maybe a bit voluptuous from the hipbones down, but not excessively so. I can go out and have dinner without losing a few brain cells, I think. 
I think, but I don't know. This dress still fits me, although I'm 99  pounds heavy, but I feel totally unpretty. With, or without it on. I feel like I'm exceeding something and lacking something else at the same time, but I don't know what exactly. I am doing my best to act like I'm confident, checking my side profile and the deep back cleavage of my dress, because I have a one piece audience that is seemingly enjoying my little clothes try-on. But in reality, all I'd like to do is slip back into my nightgown, roll under the linen sheets, and enjoy a stay-at-the-hotel kinda night. I don't know why's that, but that's it. That's how I'm feeling, and I can't help it. Not even the hashish in my system can help it. Maybe the hashish in my system is causing this little, self doubting session... but hey, I wouldn't even know if it's drug induced, or if it's just Tori being her usual level of insecure. 
Sean is having it a thousand times better than me... and I can't blame him for that. He doesn't have to stress about what to wear or about how to pimp himself up, in order to be a piece. He can get away with hair too long for his face shape just like he can get away with wearing homeless fashion clothes, because he's got the X factor. But multiplied x2, which means that he has the ability to be a fucking piece without even trying. He's sitting on the bed in nothing but fucking ugly, checkered boxers and a plain white T-shirt. His hair needs styling as soon as possible. He is high as kite, and it's written all over his face. But he's still... beautiful. This is unfair, isn't it? Why it's always us ladies having to to the glitzy n' vain in order to feel ... prettier? For men who are naturally attractive, even when stoned ?