Sheffield TCTU 10th Anniversary Ball: The Gossip!

Evening to all of you lovely people. I need to apologise in advance for all the typing errors this post will contain, I am seriously tired (that's right, not just tired, SERIOUSLY TIRED) from all of last night's galavanting. So tired that I fell asleep all afternoon and lost three hours of valuable DINOSAUR WAR playing time. But back to the point, last night was the very fancy ball that celebrated ten years since the Sheffield teenage cancer unit opened. How exciting :D And now I am here to tell you all the gossip...

So yeah, the ball. I tried to be girly and get all dolled up in a girly fashion but I got bored and watched the Paralympics instead. As you can see I wore a beautiful French designer dress that I got for 10% of the price because the firm went bust OH YEAH and my lovely black PVC bondage shoes and I dyed my hair some beautiful shades of mysterious green and acid yellow and looked very lovely (shut up, yes I did). The above photo is of my and my beautiful date for the night, the wonderful Jane, I'm not sure what we were trying to achieve in the picture but whatever it was we looked damn cool.The same goes for the photo below, I sort of look like a slutty goth Tellytubby, maybe I'm Tinky Winky now the tv money has all dried up...

I did attempt to have a photo where I posed nicely but it didn't end well. I am not good at looking nice. I only do INSANE or TERRIFYING. The slight blurriness of this photo just makes it look a bit creepy, I look like I'm about to come and suck your brains out with a straw. I am however loving how beautifully pale I look, a complexion like the moon's bottom rolling around in bleach :)

We all arrived to a red carpet and champagne reception at the city hall, who needs a glittering career in film when you can live the lifestyle just having cancer, haha. There were some ladies on stilts wearing very little at all and a variety of patients, guests and nurses all in their finest finery. After we made polite conversation about peasants, pheasants and masturbation we were all invited to make our way to our tables. Jane and I were sat on the Vienna table which lead to yet more polite conversation about whether Billy Joel or Ultravox had a more famous song called Vienna. ULTRAVOX FOR THE WIN. There were then four courses of quite average food, aside from my chicken kiev, a kiev can NEVER be average. I also realise that the illusion of this being a posh evening has been ruined by the presence of a kiev. We're from Sheffield, to us a kiev is living the high life :D

After food there was a woman with a REALLY NICE arse doing some lifting dancing with a guy who looked pretty lost. It was good though, especially from where we were sitting as we had an optimum arse angle. Then there was a party and much dancing, mainly to newfangled hip hop gangster music but they did throw in a couple of old favorites (The Nolans) for golden oldies like me. I saw kissing, I saw serious shapes being thrown, I saw a teapot, I saw a toilet, I saw a sexy lady touch my bum, I saw cancer patients old and new getting down to the funky groove. Including me, I danced (shock, horror etc) and made a general beautiful fool of myself in typical Constanze style :)

But all great things must come to and end and eventually my wonderful cancery friends and I had to depart, all of us clutching as many leftover glittery cupcakes as we could carry. It was a fantastic evening, I got to see so many of my favoritestiesty ever cancer homies, all my many thanks go out to the TCT and all the donations that gave us such a great night. Upon being turfed out Jane and I walked back to the hotel, trod in a lot of chewing gum and fell straight to sleep, dreaming of the strange liquid that came out of our Creme Brulées (nope, I can't spell that and I can't be arsed to look it up, I am very content to look like I am a but stupid today, weekends are not for being clever as of NOW) and terrible directions. I woke up this morning and found a message about kittens I'd sent someone. I wasn't even that drunk, but why did I ask someone who doesn't own kittens how her kittens were? It's not even like it makes a good euphemism, alright sexy, how're your kittens ;) I do worry about myself.

And now it's time for some tea and lying motionless in the armchair now, my poor innocent body. What did I ever do to deserve all this fun, haha :)

Constanze :) xXx

P.s I am completely in love with one of the Canadian wheelchair rugby players. Trevor Hirschfield, he's been added to my 'must try and marry' list. HE'S SO FIT. And also called Trevor, how cool is that?