This is late. Very late in fact. I realise I was supposed to make this post the week after the whole fiasco of the 'Youth Ball' but I wouldn't be Rytasha if I wasn't late. Of course, none of my dear snapchat 'followers' (if you may) let me forget and at the height of it, I was getting around 5 snaps a week of angry faces staring back at me with the captions 'WHEN IS IT GOING TO BE POSTED?' I am sorry, I truly am. For quite a few months, I lost the will to make weekly updates on my blog (not that I ever did in the first place...) because I was getting what one may call 'a fashion blogger's block' where nothing would inspire me to get up and get my photos taken. Also, around that time I deleted most of the pictures and posts on my Instagram and TRB because I no longer felt confident in how I or my body looked. 2015 to early 2016 to me was like 2007 to Britney and even now, I feel like I'm still recovering from the aftershocks or maybe even spiralling deeper into the pit that is called 'Insecurities'. As I was typing this, I realised that I never made a formal apology to all my readers or followers who kept asking me on social media where my blog dissipated to and hopefully now I won't have to see furious messages typed in caps lock anymore. Now that we've discussed the events that occurred in the past few months, I'll start writing about what this post is meant to be on in the first place : My first Ball.

Yes, I've never went to a Ball before (almost equivalent to prom for all you Americans out there) mainly because I don't have one at school and also because I'm a hermit most of the time so I've never really interacted with the opposite sex much (I blame my looks for that) and when I first heard about the Youth Ball ( a community event for students from any high school) my immediate thought was Rytasha, sit your ass home and study. But of course, nothing goes the way I want it to and after a few pleas of you must! and you'll regret not coming from both my Youth Council members and friends, I was persuaded and ready to jump on the bandwagon. On the way to the Youth Ball, my only concern was -for the first time in my life- that my boobs looked too big in the dress. For a girl who wears a 10 AA bra (literally the smallest you can go in the girl section), I never thought that I would have to worry about my chest looking too promiscuous. However, I apparently still looked like I had mosquito bites instead of normal boobs according to a friend.

Earlier in the day, I had helped decorate the venue for the ball and walking into it, I felt satisfied that the effort was showing. I could go into copious amounts of detail describing the setting but all I'll say is that there were lots of balloons. By the time my friend and I had made our way to the hall of sorts (because I was not doing this alone under any condition) my head had already started to hurt from the loud music and flashing neon lights and when I eventually located my other friends in a maze of bodies, I was ready to go home. Like I said before, nothing ever goes the way I want it to and pretty soon, I was dragged onto the dance floor where I desperately tried to avoid looking like a flailing fish. Of course, the music got hold of me and in around 10 minutes I was dabbing my way to the centre of the floor (cringe). I can't tell you how many times I slut dropped that night (lets just say the number rhymes with 'whore') or went into the photo booths to take sleazy looking pictures because I would be a disgrace to my reputation. When it came to the slow waltz for couples I pretty much puked right there because my vision was filled with disgustingly cute couples giggling and kissing each other and I wanted to slap myself (or my crush) and get out of there. I cannot, and I repeat, I cannot stand PDA, even though I'm secretly jealous inside.

Overall, the Youth Ball was pretty fun even though I hate to admit it. I was happy that for a night I didn't have to think about other issues and could instead enjoy with people I love. Albeit, I'm pretty sure some of my friends saw a side of me that day they probably won't want to see agin (sorry not sorry) and here's few more photos:

 There's me right at the front in the black dress with the 'Ball crew'


A picture of moi looking pretty goofy surrounded by the Youth Council members (not all).

And lastly, here's another goofy picture of me before the ball clinging onto Inderpreet because I'm a koala to the ones I love.

P.S- I know I need to tone up my arms so don't comment vile things because I'm working on it.