I want to be a little lamb.

I want to be a little lamb.

I’m no longer the fresh faced girl I used to be. It hit me yesterday, while I was putting on makeup for a romantic dinner and a night out at Laundry with my boo. The foundation couldn’t spread evenly, the tiny pores that never used to bother me seemed to have gotten much bigger than I last remembered. The concealer, shit..why am I using one now?

(Although my alcohol tolerance remain unchanged -_-)

Then I tried to camho at the restaurant, and did a few Internet disease pose but I couldn’t help but cringe at how wrong they look. I punched the delete button furiously and hoped to erase the nightmare from my thoughts. ~_~

And then I realised why I’ve gotten so many empire waist dresses and tops. I wish it was merely a trend. It’s not. It’s my belly. Yes, two days of not eating doesn’t work as well as it did anymore. Nowadays, I’ll only look fit perhaps after 1.5 months of vigorous climbing on the power stepper and endless vegetable soups.

Look ma, another empire waist top!

I look at all these barely 18 year old spring chickens in their skimpiest clothes, and I miss my slutty tops that I can no longer wear due to my dreaded muffin top.

Muffin top.

I miss my taut belly, I miss my shapely legs, I miss my clear dewy skin, I miss a time when I could get away with murder. Must be time for gym.