Homophobic, Fat, and Prone to Violence

Dear Diary,

Is it worthier to be liked or to be honest? You cannot be both. People always tell you they want the truth but that itself is a total lie. Most people prefer cheap fondant falsities to the raw truth. Today, I went to a party hosted by Anne Beeker. Anne and I have known each other since kindergarten, yet we’ve never really been friends mainly because when I was drinking bottles of coke, she was doing lines of it. Her party today was in celebration of her new post-rehab coke-free persona.

Before Anne went to rehab, she had a reputation for throwing amazing parties that were gossip queen fodder for at least the following week. Anne was what my mother would term a hell raiser and she looked like a slightly less whorish Taylor Momsen. So you could imagine my surprise when I laid eyes on post-rehab Anne, a born-again evangelical Christian carrying about twenty more pounds than she had before and I’m not including that gigantic bible she totes around.

Although Anne’s mind had often been a little murky when she was ‘powdered,’ she was never unpleasant. And she was definitely never fat. When I arrived today at Anne’s party with Miller on my arm, Anne leaned over to a girl next to her with awful hobo hair, and whispered not so quietly that she was surprised I was still friends with that fag. Fag? Unless she was a time warp from the wrong side of the civil rights era, she had no grounds to use that word.

So was it so awful of me to say very loudly that Anne Beeker was better off as a cokewhore? That rehab had made her disgustingly fat and intolerant? Anne, of course, heard this and instead of quietly plotting a way to exact passive aggressive revenge as any Upper Eastside girl worth her Jimmy Choos would do, she walked straight up to me and slapped me in the face. My god, it was like being hit by a paddle made of stale jelly. Miller stepped in and pulled me away, but I could totally have smacked that bloated chipmunk-cheeked biotch.

Of course, I was totally ladylike about the situation and I didn’t even lay a finger on that girl. Plus, to be honest, a girl with a body that would make a sumo wrestler drool would probably kick my ass in a fully-fledged fight. No, patience is a true virtue when it comes to merciless revenge and without tooting my own horn, I’m pretty good at that sort of thing. You wait and see.

Ciao babs,

Beth