Happy Monday, everyone!! I know, I know - what's so happy about it?! Well, I must be honest, on this particular Monday, I can't help but agree with you. However, as with so much in life, the best way to get through it is to just fake it till you make it.
Speaking of double entendres, I went to see Pete Firman on Friday! Judging from the overwhelming response from Facebook, nobody has a clue who he is. What on earth have you all been doing on Saturday nights this year?! He's a magician and a stand-up comedian all in the same human. He was on BBC1's The Magicians. What do you mean, you didn't see it?! *facepalm* These were the men who saved people with no social life from having to endure the embarrassment that is Take Me Out on the other side!
Anyway. Mr Firman has just started a nationwide tour of his conjuring, trickery and general tight-suitedness. If he's coming to your town, go and see him. You won't regret it, I promise. You'll embarrass yourself by how impressed you are. Anyone who says they aren't impressed by magic tricks is, frankly, a liar.
As I may have mentioned previously in this blog, I have a theory that magicians are life's real superheroes. I mean, I don't think Pete can websling or has retractable claws of Adamantium or anything like that. Although he would be called The Firmanator if he was a superhero, this is already a given. But magicians can do impossible-looking things that normal human beings can't do. Even if the impossible is just a clever trick that anyone can learn - I never want to be spoiled. I like the idea of the impossible being done before my eyes. I would hate to ever feel as though I was too cool or too clever to believe in magic.
I thought that, being sat on the front row in such a tiny little room, it would be easy to see how the tricks were done or that the whole effect wouldn't be nearly as good as if I'd been a few rows back. But honestly, I was mesmerised for the entire set. His first trick was, he told us, all about the art of penetration. Before anyone gets ahead of themselves - I nearly choked on my wine - he made a handkerchief pass through a microphone stand. He purposely fluffed it and basically just avoided doing it the first couple of times, but when he did it (and luckily he repeated it a couple of times) I honestly thought my eyes were playing tricks on me! It only sounds like a little trick but it's very effective!
The plethora of innuendos and the amazing tricks just kept coming in a sort of a tirade. It was fabulous. After half an hour or so of one trick and innuendo after another, he suddenly stopped and introduced a stand-up comic to the stage named Chris Stokes. Nobody was expecting it but what a lovely surprise! He was hilarious. I had face-ache from laughing so much. I especially loved his story about owning a Thunderbirds lunchbox when he was little and, after being beaten up by some bullies in school, he actually attempted to call International Rescue. I don't think I'd ever been so disappointed when he said that they didn't turn up. That isn't the sort of apathetic, unhelpful attitude I expected from Jeff and the boys, frankly. Perhaps it was Alan's turn on duty as Space Monitor that month?? I'm absolutely convinced that Chris will be *huge*, he's just ungodly funny - and he seems like a really nice chap as well. He's also on tour at the moment, and again, if you get chance to see him, you won't regret it. It was a lovely unexpected treat for us - I'd even go and see him on purpose!!!
After a brief interval, Pete came back. Trick after trick followed, some I remembered from The Magicians, some I didn't - including a trick called The Magic Table. I think the table was actually enchanted. It just floated around the stage with the grace and agility of... well... a floating table.
I think it's only fair at this point that I talk about Andy, the Volunteer from Hell. God love him. He seemed like a nice enough bloke but I think he'd had one or six too many during the interval and was a little wobbly on his feet... It wasn't just a one-trick-and-off thing, either, he was on stage for almost the rest of the night. Bless Pete, the cheery little magical imp, he trooped on with the steely determination of a man whose only priority had turned into making sure that no tricks went wrong. I was just glad he didn't choose me, I'm infinitely more gormless, especially on no booze! The reason for keeping Andy up there for so long was that Pete's first trick involved a £20 note that he'd extracted from Andy's wallet - which he promptly set on fire!! Andy then hung around onstage, assisting on the next five or six tricks while Pete tried to distract him from the fact he'd just set fire to his taxi fare home.
I won't spoil the final trick. It was too special. Everyone went wild with adulation. I will never in a gazillion years figure that out. I have a feeling that even if Pete sat me down and explained how the trick works in minute detail, I still wouldn't get it. It completely blew my mind.
Can't speak highly enough of the show, it was a fabulous night's entertainment. It was funny, it was exciting - it was a bit dramatic - and it was completely magical. I absolutely loved it. Don't think it'll be the last time I go to see him, either.
Although next time, I'll remember to bring my voice and not be so starstruck. It's never ever happened to me before. I mean, seriously. Never. Not even when I met 3/4 of The Monkees. But I actually forgot my name for a moment. How old am I?!! Still, in my desperate attempt to not look like a giant next to him - not that he's unusually diminutive, I just happen to be an inch or so taller than him - I did manage to get a good cuddle for a photo. He's got the comfiest shoulders of any non-drummer I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. True story. Next time I'll speak. Possibly. Anyway, the point is - my tip for not looking like an absolute idiot when meeting anyone famous is definitely not "just silently grab them for a cuddle and then skip off into the night like some sort of planet-shaped fairy".
Nothing else worth mentioning happened at the weekend, although I did watch all three Spider-Man films yesterday, which was lovely. Andrew Garfield has some pretty mighty shoes to fill - for me, Tobey Maguire IS Peter Parker/Spider-Man. He played him perfectly - painfully nerdy, constantly at the brink of tears, zero people skills, a 60,000 word vocabulary and a wonderful innocence about him. I think they're going to try and make Peter a bit sexy in this new Spider-Man, and it simply won't work, I tell you!!!
Think I've bored you all enough, now. Join me on Wednesday, I'll give you a brief update on how the weight-loss is going and have a look forward to my eighth weigh-in!! Hope the llamas have recovered from last Friday's blog...!!
Monday 27 February 2012
Friday 24 February 2012
They've Got the Hooves Like Jagger
(Title courtesy of JR Wainwright. Not to be confused with JR Hartley, the fella who wrote the book on fly fishing)
I think you know who have the hooves like Jagger. Hit it, llamas!!!
*shimmys around the room in a frenzy*
NB: Just to confirm, the llamas are only dancing. I don't want anyone to think that they've been goosestepping onstage in Munich like Jagger did in the early 60s. They're sensitive souls, my llamas, they're not a controversial breed of llama. They're all about celebratory dancing when someone loses weight. And Ricardo, my lead dancing llama, has just invested in some gold lamé leg warmers... so that might give you some sort of idea about the kind of llamas I have on my team.
I know, I know what you're saying. This kind of celebratory fiesta is a little excessive for a person who has only lost 2lbs. It's not as if I've lost 14 stone in one day (© Peter Kay). Although that'd be very helpful. Well, in the words of Jimmy Cricket, "There's more, there's more!"
I was quite pleased with myself, as you can imagine, after drinking like Oliver Reed at a lock-in on Saturday night, and also after my scary dream on Tuesday. But I was sat there, quietly minding my own business, texting everyone frantically in a "Look at me being skinny!" fashion, while everyone around me chattered among themselves. The meeting started a bit late, and Andrea the Consultant said that there were a few certificates to hand out that week, so she decided to start with the Slimmer of the Month award.
"The Slimmer of the Month lost 9 1/2 lbs this month!" she declared.
'Cor blimey, that's a lot! I wonder how much I've lost this month?' I thought, tilting my head and looking a bit gormless as I attempted to add 1 1/2 and 1 together.
"It's Heather!" she finished.
You can imagine my shock, I'm quite sure. I mean. I've been whinging about not losing enough, about not losing fast enough and generally about the fact that it's now been seven weeks and I'm not yet slim enough to be Catherine Zeta Jones' body double. And yet, there I was, trudging along at a slow and steady 'losing between one and two pounds a week' manner - and it's little ol' me that gets Slimmer of the Month! *excited jig*
I think you know who have the hooves like Jagger. Hit it, llamas!!!
*shimmys around the room in a frenzy*
NB: Just to confirm, the llamas are only dancing. I don't want anyone to think that they've been goosestepping onstage in Munich like Jagger did in the early 60s. They're sensitive souls, my llamas, they're not a controversial breed of llama. They're all about celebratory dancing when someone loses weight. And Ricardo, my lead dancing llama, has just invested in some gold lamé leg warmers... so that might give you some sort of idea about the kind of llamas I have on my team.
I know, I know what you're saying. This kind of celebratory fiesta is a little excessive for a person who has only lost 2lbs. It's not as if I've lost 14 stone in one day (© Peter Kay). Although that'd be very helpful. Well, in the words of Jimmy Cricket, "There's more, there's more!"
I was quite pleased with myself, as you can imagine, after drinking like Oliver Reed at a lock-in on Saturday night, and also after my scary dream on Tuesday. But I was sat there, quietly minding my own business, texting everyone frantically in a "Look at me being skinny!" fashion, while everyone around me chattered among themselves. The meeting started a bit late, and Andrea the Consultant said that there were a few certificates to hand out that week, so she decided to start with the Slimmer of the Month award.
"The Slimmer of the Month lost 9 1/2 lbs this month!" she declared.
'Cor blimey, that's a lot! I wonder how much I've lost this month?' I thought, tilting my head and looking a bit gormless as I attempted to add 1 1/2 and 1 together.
"It's Heather!" she finished.
You can imagine my shock, I'm quite sure. I mean. I've been whinging about not losing enough, about not losing fast enough and generally about the fact that it's now been seven weeks and I'm not yet slim enough to be Catherine Zeta Jones' body double. And yet, there I was, trudging along at a slow and steady 'losing between one and two pounds a week' manner - and it's little ol' me that gets Slimmer of the Month! *excited jig*
¯Nice and easy does it - ev'ry tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmme!!!¯
Even more excitingly, the timeline thing on my weight-loss planner has changed dramatically. I am now looking to achieve my target by the end of October. But I'll certainly be well on the way by the beginning of August. I did say last week or the week before that I knew August would be a bit of a big ask, so having October to aim for is a lot less disheartening than the middle of April next year!
So, everything seems good again. I'm really happy with yesterday. I know losing 2lbs a week is never likely to break any records, but if it gets me to where I want to be, I'm delighted with that. From now on I will adopt the mindset of Auntie Heath (the Diet Lama menioned a few weeks ago - still not to be confused with either the Dalai Lama or, indeed, my dancing llamas) and think that *any* loss is a great result.
Remind me of that on weeks where I've been really good and only lost half a pound...!!
So. Tonight, Rachael and I are going to see Pete Firman at King George's Hall in Blackburn. Blackburn is probably not the most glamorous of places, but tonight it will be filled with magic - and comedy, as the man who has been dubbed 'the poster boy for magic comedy in the UK' comes to town!! So excited. I mean. I don't think I could be more excited if I tried. It'll be a great night - I just hope that he doesn't look our way when he decides he needs a volunteer for a trick, I would literally die of shame... and then send Rachael...!!
I hope you all have a really exciting weekend jam-packed with frivolity. Join me again on Monday for a full round-up of tonight's frivolities and a look to another exciting week ahead!!
Wednesday 22 February 2012
Caught in the Middle
Getting my 90s boyband on, there...
Caught in the middle? Yep - the middle of the week, of course!! May I take this opportunity to wish one and all a very happy Wednesday. Only 48 hours to go until the joyous occasion I like to call Firman Friday, so it's all good news. I'm very much looking forward to the end of the week.
I had an anxiety dream the night before last that I'd put on 2 1/2 lbs at Fat Club and they kicked me out for not being committed enough. I don't think that'll happen this week, though. If anything, I actually feel a little bit thinner - which is always a good sign. Perhaps I've lost a couple of lbs this week. I hope so, anyway. I've been so good since Saturday. And I've exercised more. That's got to be worth something at least, right?! And I've changed my breakfasting habits. I've discovered Ready Brek. Oooh!! It's like getting a little cuddle on the inside every morning!! I love it. Good job too, really - two boiled eggs and two pieces of fruit every morning was getting way too expensive, and I refuse to buy eggs from caged hens - it's pointless on all levels. Firstly, the poor hens have traumatic and miserable lives and the people who organise, run and condone the treatment of hens kept in such conditions should be forced to live in similar ones themselves, see how they like it. Secondly, because the poor hens have such horrible lives, the resulting eggs are horrible and tasteless.
I like to think of myself as a rather conscientious omnivore. It's all about fighting the small battles!!
I've made a start on Episode 2 of Diary of a Fat Girl: The Sitcom (which is now henceforth to be known as Slim Chance. I did think about naming all of the episodes after lyrics/titles from Slim Chance songs but there are probably way too many copyright issues with that!!). I'm quite happy with it so far. I decided it'd be a good slant to have the slimming consultant be male, mostly because there seemed to be far too many women in it. So I named him Simon, which seems a bit of an odd choice. I don't think I know anyone called Simon - and if I do, they're obviously so boring I can't remember them. However, he has quickly evolved into being an absolute tyrant. If ever this show gets picked up by anyone, I would like to categorically state that slimming consultants are not all quite so mean! I mean, I don't think anyone would get away with telling someone to not worry about taking a seat because they've been reinforced in real life!!
The competition closes in just under a month. I really need to get my re-writing head on and come up with plans for the next four episodes. And compose my covering letter. And write a synopsis. Gah. So much to do!! My poor brain!!
Join me on Friday, when I'll be able to give you a full update on all the gossip from tomorrow's adventures at Fat Club and, I will warn you in advance, look forward with a certain degree of teenybopperish hysteria to an evening with Pete Firman in Blackburn!!
Caught in the middle? Yep - the middle of the week, of course!! May I take this opportunity to wish one and all a very happy Wednesday. Only 48 hours to go until the joyous occasion I like to call Firman Friday, so it's all good news. I'm very much looking forward to the end of the week.
I had an anxiety dream the night before last that I'd put on 2 1/2 lbs at Fat Club and they kicked me out for not being committed enough. I don't think that'll happen this week, though. If anything, I actually feel a little bit thinner - which is always a good sign. Perhaps I've lost a couple of lbs this week. I hope so, anyway. I've been so good since Saturday. And I've exercised more. That's got to be worth something at least, right?! And I've changed my breakfasting habits. I've discovered Ready Brek. Oooh!! It's like getting a little cuddle on the inside every morning!! I love it. Good job too, really - two boiled eggs and two pieces of fruit every morning was getting way too expensive, and I refuse to buy eggs from caged hens - it's pointless on all levels. Firstly, the poor hens have traumatic and miserable lives and the people who organise, run and condone the treatment of hens kept in such conditions should be forced to live in similar ones themselves, see how they like it. Secondly, because the poor hens have such horrible lives, the resulting eggs are horrible and tasteless.
I like to think of myself as a rather conscientious omnivore. It's all about fighting the small battles!!
I've made a start on Episode 2 of Diary of a Fat Girl: The Sitcom (which is now henceforth to be known as Slim Chance. I did think about naming all of the episodes after lyrics/titles from Slim Chance songs but there are probably way too many copyright issues with that!!). I'm quite happy with it so far. I decided it'd be a good slant to have the slimming consultant be male, mostly because there seemed to be far too many women in it. So I named him Simon, which seems a bit of an odd choice. I don't think I know anyone called Simon - and if I do, they're obviously so boring I can't remember them. However, he has quickly evolved into being an absolute tyrant. If ever this show gets picked up by anyone, I would like to categorically state that slimming consultants are not all quite so mean! I mean, I don't think anyone would get away with telling someone to not worry about taking a seat because they've been reinforced in real life!!
The competition closes in just under a month. I really need to get my re-writing head on and come up with plans for the next four episodes. And compose my covering letter. And write a synopsis. Gah. So much to do!! My poor brain!!
Join me on Friday, when I'll be able to give you a full update on all the gossip from tomorrow's adventures at Fat Club and, I will warn you in advance, look forward with a certain degree of teenybopperish hysteria to an evening with Pete Firman in Blackburn!!
Monday 20 February 2012
My Heart Skips Skips Skips Skips Skips Skips A Beat
No, my heart has not been possessed by the spirit of Michael McIntyre, nor have I developed a stammer. No, indeed - but this weekend was all about the man with the tightest trousers on God's green earth. Yes, folks, OLLY MURS!! (I hope you read that in your Voiceover Man from X-Factor voice!)
I can honestly say that a grand old time was had by all four of us (Jo's pals from work, Hayley and Rachel, were our partners in crime for the evening). We sang. We danced. We laughed. We ate, drank and were merry. Even Jason Manford joined in on the fun. More on that later! I think my one and only grievance was that the boys and girls from Northern Trains are under the misguided supposition that a train consisting of two carriages is sufficient in order to transport the inhabitants of Leyland, Preston, Blackpool, Bolton and the surrounding areas home after a gig at an auditorium that houses 15,000 people. Just saying. Being able to breathe might be nice.
I decided to have my first Flexible Syns day since I started this whole slimming thing. It's slightly more structured and less terrifying than just having a day off, in that rather than just thinking "Bah, to hell with it!" for the day and eating your own body weight in chocolate, you can say to yourself, "Okie doke, I'm going out somewhere that will involve a lot of eating and drinking and general carrying-ons - I'll double/treble my Syn allowance for the day!" and then rein it straight back in for the rest of the week. So I decided upon 45. I did have quite a few drinkypoops, but was actually really rather good on the eating front. I had this amazing salad for my tea consisting of loads of salad leaves, green beans, eggs, tomatoes, grilled chicken and bacon, on a plate roughly the size of my bottom (which may give you an idea of how huge the salad was - I must say I was struggling towards the end!) and all the salad dressing was put in a little pot at the side, so I didn't put any of it on. Fabulous. Had egg, bacon and three Synful sausages for lunch, which was amazing. Been so long since I had anything resembling a Full English breakfast, it was a lovely treat. I have a feeling it should have always been a lovely treat, rather than tea two or three nights a week and then lunch on a Saturday!!!
Of course I still managed to beat myself up about having had a load of Syns, even though I knew I was going to and I didn't go over what I'd decided on, but I did do an awful lot of dancing and jumping about like a mad eejit. I may be fat but I can still shake and shimmy with the best of 'em. I also went on a mammoth walk to my pal Helena's which was, I've now worked out (thanks, Google Maps!), 2.2 miles - so every last drop of booze must have been worked off already!!
Back to Olly.
I think Olly Murs must be the least offensive person in pop. I mean, I appreciate that he mightn't be everyone's cup of tea, and I'd never call myself his biggest fan or anything - but he's just a nice chap and sings cheery songs of cheeriness. I mean you'd need a heart of granite to enforce a feeling of hatred towards him. And, fair play to him - he knows how to put on a show. He had a bit of a ska set and a bit of a Motown set, had everyone up and dancing, as well as all his own songs - I genuinely don't think that there was one person in that audience, male or female (you'd be surprised at how many men were there!) who didn't walk out of the arena feeling just a little bit in love with him. Although it was a large venue, he was so chatty and personable he made it feel like it was a rather intimate gig - which is no mean feat. He made quite a large tour of the arena floor, even going right to the back to dish out hugs and kisses to fans who I'm quite sure never imagined they'd get quite so close from where they were sitting!! Good on him. I've honestly never seen any singer or musician be so committed to making sure *every* person in the audience is having a great time. The big sister said, "It's like everyone who goes to see him gets sprinkled with a bit of love dust!" and it's absolutely true!!
As I may have mentioned, our tickets weren't just in the normal seats - Jo's boss had arranged for all of us to have seats in a private box. I know, get us - partying like celebs without even the slightest hint of a king prawn ring from Iceland!!! I don't think I'd like to gig like a commoner again! We had glasses of red wine out of real glasses, no cheapo plastic glasses with lids, thank you very much! Poshtastic. One started referring to oneself in the third person and everything.
Rachel spotted some actress from Emmerdale in the box next to us, and she smiled and waved and seemed dead nice (I wouldn't know her if I fell over her, but that's beside the point!). So it was quite nice, feeling as though we were rubbing shoulders with a few possible future contestants in I'm A Celebrity. Then, as I was having a bit of a gormless people-watching moment around the arena, I turned around to look in the box next to us and saw a tallish fella who looked rather familiar. I couldn't quite place him and I had to look a couple of times, but then he clocked me and I looked away in case he thought I was being weird. Jo asked me what the matter was and I said, "I'm probably wrong, it probably looks nothing like him - but I'm sure that fella in the box next to us looks a bit like Jason Manford!" She had a quick look and said "Erm, yes. That's probably because it is him."
I am such a Comedian Fangirl, I was more excited about him than the prospect of Olly Murs's trousers! I thought I'd just be cool and pretend I hadn't noticed, but Jo, Rach and Hayles all waved and he gave us all a big smile and waved back.
Later on, during the gig, Jo's feet were killing her, so she took her shoes off and put her feet up on the little ledge in front of us and started wiggling her toes in time to the music. Jason then went down the steps in his box to the ledge, had a bit of a look round, saw Jo's feet, did a massive comedy double take and burst out laughing! She didn't see it, but it was one of the most surreal moments in my life. It's one of my life's ambitions to make a famous comedian laugh - I think if I can do that then I am officially funny. But then our Jo just got her tootsies out and he was in stitches!!!
A girl in front (in the commoners' seats!) saw him and got her photo taken with him, so Hayley and Rachel jumped on that whole scene and also got their photo taken with him. He was so nice, Hayley said that he must get sick of being constantly asked for photos and stuff and he was like "No, no, it's fine, I'm happy to do it!" She said to him, "Listen, Jay, my husband's a big fan of yours. I'm not so keen, but he'll never believe we've seen you!" which I think was probably THE most awesome thing anyone could ever say to a famous person!!! Then afterwards she said to him, "Hey, if you ever want inspiration for new material, come on a night out with us!" and he pointed to Jo and said, "I know! That one's got her shoes off!"
My sister, ladies and gentlemen. The woman whose feet have probably inspired Jason Manford's next stand-up tour!!
What an awesome night. I danced so much my everywhere hurt, I was absolutely wrecked - but it was so worth it. I'm still quite giddy about it. If you're going to see Olly on this tour, you won't regret it - even if you just think "I don't mind him", you too will fall under the Murs spell after the show. Absochuffinlutely fantastic.
Right, well. After all that frivolity and hilarity - it's Monday again. It's another rainy day in Chorley (I'm sure there's a song in that...) and five days of monotony are stretching ahead of me. There is, however, some serious light at the end of the tunnel, as this Friday will be renamed Firman Friday. I cannot wait. Me. Pete Firman. Same room. Same time. Le squee. So exciting I had to say it in French.
Join me again on Wednesday when I'll give you an update on slimming and exercising (I'm going to try a lot harder on the exercise front this week), and hopefully I'll be looking forward with a degree of excitement towards the weigh-in on Thursday!!
I can honestly say that a grand old time was had by all four of us (Jo's pals from work, Hayley and Rachel, were our partners in crime for the evening). We sang. We danced. We laughed. We ate, drank and were merry. Even Jason Manford joined in on the fun. More on that later! I think my one and only grievance was that the boys and girls from Northern Trains are under the misguided supposition that a train consisting of two carriages is sufficient in order to transport the inhabitants of Leyland, Preston, Blackpool, Bolton and the surrounding areas home after a gig at an auditorium that houses 15,000 people. Just saying. Being able to breathe might be nice.
I decided to have my first Flexible Syns day since I started this whole slimming thing. It's slightly more structured and less terrifying than just having a day off, in that rather than just thinking "Bah, to hell with it!" for the day and eating your own body weight in chocolate, you can say to yourself, "Okie doke, I'm going out somewhere that will involve a lot of eating and drinking and general carrying-ons - I'll double/treble my Syn allowance for the day!" and then rein it straight back in for the rest of the week. So I decided upon 45. I did have quite a few drinkypoops, but was actually really rather good on the eating front. I had this amazing salad for my tea consisting of loads of salad leaves, green beans, eggs, tomatoes, grilled chicken and bacon, on a plate roughly the size of my bottom (which may give you an idea of how huge the salad was - I must say I was struggling towards the end!) and all the salad dressing was put in a little pot at the side, so I didn't put any of it on. Fabulous. Had egg, bacon and three Synful sausages for lunch, which was amazing. Been so long since I had anything resembling a Full English breakfast, it was a lovely treat. I have a feeling it should have always been a lovely treat, rather than tea two or three nights a week and then lunch on a Saturday!!!
Of course I still managed to beat myself up about having had a load of Syns, even though I knew I was going to and I didn't go over what I'd decided on, but I did do an awful lot of dancing and jumping about like a mad eejit. I may be fat but I can still shake and shimmy with the best of 'em. I also went on a mammoth walk to my pal Helena's which was, I've now worked out (thanks, Google Maps!), 2.2 miles - so every last drop of booze must have been worked off already!!
Back to Olly.
I think Olly Murs must be the least offensive person in pop. I mean, I appreciate that he mightn't be everyone's cup of tea, and I'd never call myself his biggest fan or anything - but he's just a nice chap and sings cheery songs of cheeriness. I mean you'd need a heart of granite to enforce a feeling of hatred towards him. And, fair play to him - he knows how to put on a show. He had a bit of a ska set and a bit of a Motown set, had everyone up and dancing, as well as all his own songs - I genuinely don't think that there was one person in that audience, male or female (you'd be surprised at how many men were there!) who didn't walk out of the arena feeling just a little bit in love with him. Although it was a large venue, he was so chatty and personable he made it feel like it was a rather intimate gig - which is no mean feat. He made quite a large tour of the arena floor, even going right to the back to dish out hugs and kisses to fans who I'm quite sure never imagined they'd get quite so close from where they were sitting!! Good on him. I've honestly never seen any singer or musician be so committed to making sure *every* person in the audience is having a great time. The big sister said, "It's like everyone who goes to see him gets sprinkled with a bit of love dust!" and it's absolutely true!!
As I may have mentioned, our tickets weren't just in the normal seats - Jo's boss had arranged for all of us to have seats in a private box. I know, get us - partying like celebs without even the slightest hint of a king prawn ring from Iceland!!! I don't think I'd like to gig like a commoner again! We had glasses of red wine out of real glasses, no cheapo plastic glasses with lids, thank you very much! Poshtastic. One started referring to oneself in the third person and everything.
Rachel spotted some actress from Emmerdale in the box next to us, and she smiled and waved and seemed dead nice (I wouldn't know her if I fell over her, but that's beside the point!). So it was quite nice, feeling as though we were rubbing shoulders with a few possible future contestants in I'm A Celebrity. Then, as I was having a bit of a gormless people-watching moment around the arena, I turned around to look in the box next to us and saw a tallish fella who looked rather familiar. I couldn't quite place him and I had to look a couple of times, but then he clocked me and I looked away in case he thought I was being weird. Jo asked me what the matter was and I said, "I'm probably wrong, it probably looks nothing like him - but I'm sure that fella in the box next to us looks a bit like Jason Manford!" She had a quick look and said "Erm, yes. That's probably because it is him."
I am such a Comedian Fangirl, I was more excited about him than the prospect of Olly Murs's trousers! I thought I'd just be cool and pretend I hadn't noticed, but Jo, Rach and Hayles all waved and he gave us all a big smile and waved back.
Later on, during the gig, Jo's feet were killing her, so she took her shoes off and put her feet up on the little ledge in front of us and started wiggling her toes in time to the music. Jason then went down the steps in his box to the ledge, had a bit of a look round, saw Jo's feet, did a massive comedy double take and burst out laughing! She didn't see it, but it was one of the most surreal moments in my life. It's one of my life's ambitions to make a famous comedian laugh - I think if I can do that then I am officially funny. But then our Jo just got her tootsies out and he was in stitches!!!
A girl in front (in the commoners' seats!) saw him and got her photo taken with him, so Hayley and Rachel jumped on that whole scene and also got their photo taken with him. He was so nice, Hayley said that he must get sick of being constantly asked for photos and stuff and he was like "No, no, it's fine, I'm happy to do it!" She said to him, "Listen, Jay, my husband's a big fan of yours. I'm not so keen, but he'll never believe we've seen you!" which I think was probably THE most awesome thing anyone could ever say to a famous person!!! Then afterwards she said to him, "Hey, if you ever want inspiration for new material, come on a night out with us!" and he pointed to Jo and said, "I know! That one's got her shoes off!"
My sister, ladies and gentlemen. The woman whose feet have probably inspired Jason Manford's next stand-up tour!!
What an awesome night. I danced so much my everywhere hurt, I was absolutely wrecked - but it was so worth it. I'm still quite giddy about it. If you're going to see Olly on this tour, you won't regret it - even if you just think "I don't mind him", you too will fall under the Murs spell after the show. Absochuffinlutely fantastic.
Right, well. After all that frivolity and hilarity - it's Monday again. It's another rainy day in Chorley (I'm sure there's a song in that...) and five days of monotony are stretching ahead of me. There is, however, some serious light at the end of the tunnel, as this Friday will be renamed Firman Friday. I cannot wait. Me. Pete Firman. Same room. Same time. Le squee. So exciting I had to say it in French.
Join me again on Wednesday when I'll give you an update on slimming and exercising (I'm going to try a lot harder on the exercise front this week), and hopefully I'll be looking forward with a degree of excitement towards the weigh-in on Thursday!!
Friday 17 February 2012
Happy Dancing
C'mon, llamas - time for you lot to get your dancing hooves on!!
*shakes maracas and dances round like a thing possessed*
Never in my whole life have I been so happy to lose one pound!! That's it. First stone - BAYY-UMM!! Gone!! Never coming back!!! This is it, folks. One down, six to go. I can do this. I can. I can do it. Certainly by the end of the year. Perhaps August is a bit of a big ask. But I can get most of this weight boxed off by then, at least!!
I'm not losing as fast as I'd like. I knew it wasn't going to be easy and that I probably wouldn't lose 5lbs a week indefintely. But after a fortnight of extra Being Good and only having lost a total of 2 1/2lbs, I must say I'm feeling a little nonplussed by the idea that eating less slows down your slimming rate. I noshed like a mad eejit in my first week and lost 5 1/2 lbs. Haven't eaten so much since and haven't lost as much weight. There may be something in that. I put in my target weight on the Slimming World Online site and according to their calculations I might have reached it by 8 April 2013. That's a bit depressing. I really need to get my act together and just try harder. I'm not sure how they worked it out, though. If I lost a stone in six weeks, not even at lightning pace, I don't understand why they think it'll take me 14 months to lose the other six... I'll just have to prove the calculator wrong, that's all. What do calculators know, anyway?! Nothing, they're just machines. The maths is wrong. They haven't reckoned on me - SuperSpev! I'll slim down like some sort of slimming ninja (slimmer in a half-shell... SKINNY POWER!) and reach my target weight before they've even registered it!
Besides, I haven't really eaten much the last couple of weeks through one thing and another. I think the only way that Slimming World really works is if you do eat. And eat. And, by Jove, keep eating. It's my kinda diet.
Mr Syn Free Sausage 2012 has agreed to come to the club in the next couple of weeks with a selection of snorkers and burgers and all sorts of yummy stuff like that. We all got a little note on our seats to tell us. I couldn't help but laugh when Andrea the Consultant referred to him as The Sausage Man. She then went on, quite randomly, to ask if anyone had Special Pancakes. Well. I was in stitches. Apparently, and this sounds gross, so never do it. If you put a packet of microwavable porridge oats in a Muller Light yoghurt along with two eggs and mix it all up, then put it in the fridge overnight, it ends up making a pancake batter. I would seriously rather go without. It sounds hideous. I'll have real pancakes when I'm thin, thanks.
Dave the Bloke wasn't there, but another bloke has joined. I don't like him. He's not a groovy guy like Dave the Bloke, and he has definite hygiene issues. The room was pratically empty and he turned up late with his mum and they chose to come and sit next to me. He almost took up half of my chair as well as his own. Dude. Personal space. And they didn't even acknowledge I was there! Just rude. Beth the Legend was also strangely absent.
We had a taster evening, which I didn't partake in. Felt a bit embarrassed. I know it's a highly illogical thing, but I've never been a fan of eating in public and have had several cruel comments passed at me on the odd occasion I do - even when I was thinner. I know, the last place I would get abuse hurled at me for eating would be in a slimming club - especially when some of the people there are bigger than me... but... nah. Not my scene. Someone made chicken fried rice using honey and soy sauce. She gave us the recipe and I might have a bash at making it - possibly without the honey. It sounded awesome and practically Syn free. Someone else made a vanilla cheesecake which sounded utterly sublime. Must look for the recipes online!
Jo and I are going to Manchester tomorrow to see Olly Murs (to be said in the dramatic style of Voiceover Man from X-Factor - OLLY MUUURRRS!!!). Really excited, should be a great night - and at least I don't need to worry about missing The Magicians! Will provide a full report of the action from the weekend in Monday's update. I hope everyone has an equally fabulous weekend, whatever your plans are. Be good!!
*shakes maracas and dances round like a thing possessed*
Never in my whole life have I been so happy to lose one pound!! That's it. First stone - BAYY-UMM!! Gone!! Never coming back!!! This is it, folks. One down, six to go. I can do this. I can. I can do it. Certainly by the end of the year. Perhaps August is a bit of a big ask. But I can get most of this weight boxed off by then, at least!!
I'm not losing as fast as I'd like. I knew it wasn't going to be easy and that I probably wouldn't lose 5lbs a week indefintely. But after a fortnight of extra Being Good and only having lost a total of 2 1/2lbs, I must say I'm feeling a little nonplussed by the idea that eating less slows down your slimming rate. I noshed like a mad eejit in my first week and lost 5 1/2 lbs. Haven't eaten so much since and haven't lost as much weight. There may be something in that. I put in my target weight on the Slimming World Online site and according to their calculations I might have reached it by 8 April 2013. That's a bit depressing. I really need to get my act together and just try harder. I'm not sure how they worked it out, though. If I lost a stone in six weeks, not even at lightning pace, I don't understand why they think it'll take me 14 months to lose the other six... I'll just have to prove the calculator wrong, that's all. What do calculators know, anyway?! Nothing, they're just machines. The maths is wrong. They haven't reckoned on me - SuperSpev! I'll slim down like some sort of slimming ninja (slimmer in a half-shell... SKINNY POWER!) and reach my target weight before they've even registered it!
Besides, I haven't really eaten much the last couple of weeks through one thing and another. I think the only way that Slimming World really works is if you do eat. And eat. And, by Jove, keep eating. It's my kinda diet.
Mr Syn Free Sausage 2012 has agreed to come to the club in the next couple of weeks with a selection of snorkers and burgers and all sorts of yummy stuff like that. We all got a little note on our seats to tell us. I couldn't help but laugh when Andrea the Consultant referred to him as The Sausage Man. She then went on, quite randomly, to ask if anyone had Special Pancakes. Well. I was in stitches. Apparently, and this sounds gross, so never do it. If you put a packet of microwavable porridge oats in a Muller Light yoghurt along with two eggs and mix it all up, then put it in the fridge overnight, it ends up making a pancake batter. I would seriously rather go without. It sounds hideous. I'll have real pancakes when I'm thin, thanks.
Dave the Bloke wasn't there, but another bloke has joined. I don't like him. He's not a groovy guy like Dave the Bloke, and he has definite hygiene issues. The room was pratically empty and he turned up late with his mum and they chose to come and sit next to me. He almost took up half of my chair as well as his own. Dude. Personal space. And they didn't even acknowledge I was there! Just rude. Beth the Legend was also strangely absent.
We had a taster evening, which I didn't partake in. Felt a bit embarrassed. I know it's a highly illogical thing, but I've never been a fan of eating in public and have had several cruel comments passed at me on the odd occasion I do - even when I was thinner. I know, the last place I would get abuse hurled at me for eating would be in a slimming club - especially when some of the people there are bigger than me... but... nah. Not my scene. Someone made chicken fried rice using honey and soy sauce. She gave us the recipe and I might have a bash at making it - possibly without the honey. It sounded awesome and practically Syn free. Someone else made a vanilla cheesecake which sounded utterly sublime. Must look for the recipes online!
Jo and I are going to Manchester tomorrow to see Olly Murs (to be said in the dramatic style of Voiceover Man from X-Factor - OLLY MUUURRRS!!!). Really excited, should be a great night - and at least I don't need to worry about missing The Magicians! Will provide a full report of the action from the weekend in Monday's update. I hope everyone has an equally fabulous weekend, whatever your plans are. Be good!!
Wednesday 15 February 2012
Happy Hump Day!
Hands up anyone who isn't feeling good about tomorrow night's weigh-in?
Anyone??
Anyone???
Anyone????
Just me, then.
I don't understand it. This week has been a very skint week in Wainwright Mansions, and as a result, I haven't really eaten very much of anything. Breakfast has been minimal. Lunch has been merely a token. Tea has been a much more pleasant affair, in all honesty, but still. There's not really been much of anything to overindulge in. And trust me, this week I would happily have overindulged in paper if it was classed as a superspeed food!! Gah! So hungry. Constantly. Adolescent type hungry.
So, despite the fact that I haven't quite noshed like a lord this week, even though I could have - I still somehow have managed to feel very bloated and uncomfortable. I can tell I've put weight on. I can feel that roll of fat I lost a couple fo weeks ago simply clawing its way back onto my person. I must be the only human on earth who can eat less and put weight on.
All will be revealed tomorrow, undoubtedly. But don't hold your breath. For a start, your face will go a funny colour.
So. It's Wednesday. That can only mean one thing - it's Masterchef tonight, guest starring the most aptly-named chef of all time - Tom Kitchin. I know, really, I didn't believe it either, at first. Imagine if he'd done anything else. People would be dead confused. There's a Japanese girl on it who is some sort of scientific genius, apparently she's got a degree in Quantum Physics or something equally scary sounding, and she is absolutely as batty as Dracula at a Twilight party. I think the lovely John Torode has got a bit of a soft spot for her as well. I'm not too sure how sensible it is to watch cookery shows that glamourise things like cream, butter, flour and deep frying shizz while one is on a diet, but... well. I haven't put any weight on just by looking at any of the puddings *yet*...!!
Slimming World have apparently started up a new incentive called Let's Beat Obesity. I'm sure we'll hear all about it tomorrow but I think it's some sort of 12-week booster program. When they did the initiative last year, apparently Slimming World members in the UK and Ireland lost over 3,000,000 lbs altogether!! 12 weeks is a good enough length of time. That'll take us to... what... probably the end of May. Who knows - perhaps it'll be just the thing to take my rather stilted weight loss to the next level?? I'll keep you all posted about that. Sounds pretty interesting so far.
Join me on Friday for an excited look towards my fun-filled Olly Murs Weekend in Manchester with the big sister and her pals from work. I will also provide a full report of my adventures at the weigh-in, and I'll let you know if the llamas have been let out of their stable this week. I do have some freshly-laundered leg warmers on standby, just in case...
Anyone??
Anyone???
Anyone????
Just me, then.
I don't understand it. This week has been a very skint week in Wainwright Mansions, and as a result, I haven't really eaten very much of anything. Breakfast has been minimal. Lunch has been merely a token. Tea has been a much more pleasant affair, in all honesty, but still. There's not really been much of anything to overindulge in. And trust me, this week I would happily have overindulged in paper if it was classed as a superspeed food!! Gah! So hungry. Constantly. Adolescent type hungry.
So, despite the fact that I haven't quite noshed like a lord this week, even though I could have - I still somehow have managed to feel very bloated and uncomfortable. I can tell I've put weight on. I can feel that roll of fat I lost a couple fo weeks ago simply clawing its way back onto my person. I must be the only human on earth who can eat less and put weight on.
All will be revealed tomorrow, undoubtedly. But don't hold your breath. For a start, your face will go a funny colour.
So. It's Wednesday. That can only mean one thing - it's Masterchef tonight, guest starring the most aptly-named chef of all time - Tom Kitchin. I know, really, I didn't believe it either, at first. Imagine if he'd done anything else. People would be dead confused. There's a Japanese girl on it who is some sort of scientific genius, apparently she's got a degree in Quantum Physics or something equally scary sounding, and she is absolutely as batty as Dracula at a Twilight party. I think the lovely John Torode has got a bit of a soft spot for her as well. I'm not too sure how sensible it is to watch cookery shows that glamourise things like cream, butter, flour and deep frying shizz while one is on a diet, but... well. I haven't put any weight on just by looking at any of the puddings *yet*...!!
Slimming World have apparently started up a new incentive called Let's Beat Obesity. I'm sure we'll hear all about it tomorrow but I think it's some sort of 12-week booster program. When they did the initiative last year, apparently Slimming World members in the UK and Ireland lost over 3,000,000 lbs altogether!! 12 weeks is a good enough length of time. That'll take us to... what... probably the end of May. Who knows - perhaps it'll be just the thing to take my rather stilted weight loss to the next level?? I'll keep you all posted about that. Sounds pretty interesting so far.
Join me on Friday for an excited look towards my fun-filled Olly Murs Weekend in Manchester with the big sister and her pals from work. I will also provide a full report of my adventures at the weigh-in, and I'll let you know if the llamas have been let out of their stable this week. I do have some freshly-laundered leg warmers on standby, just in case...
Tuesday 14 February 2012
My Funny Valentine
Gah. As if Monday wasn't depressing enough, now it's Tuesday. I have no qualms with Tuesday on a normal basis. Tuesday is, by and large, a nothing day. However, this particular Tuesday also coincides with St Valentine's Day. It does make me wish I owned a copy of Some Like it Hot though. Best St Valentine's Day Massacre film ever.
I must say I often feel sorry for St Valentine. All of them. There were about a dozen of them altogether, who comprise the modern-day Valentine. All the original Valentinus wanted to do was get on with the day to day aspects of being a Christian in Ancient Rome. Get up in the morning, have a wash, eat breakfast, have a bit of a pray, fight a couple of lions in the afternoon, come home for tea, have a bit of a pray, go to bed - that sort of thing. But no, the blokes in charge wouldn't have it and got a bit narky about him believing in one God rather than all seventy eight billion gods that the Romans had. When he tried to explain things to them in a rational manner, they freaked out and attempted to stone him to death:
STONER 1: Woooahh... dude, that guy's talking about one God!
STONER 2: Dude! That's so narly, dude!
STONER 1: Totally bodacious!
STONER 2: Let's stone him!
STONER 1: Dude, we've not got any spare, and my dad'll totally freak if he knows we've taken his!
STONER 2: Dude, I mean, let's throw large rocks at him!
STONER 1: Oh...!
VALENTINUS: That's a little harsh, isn't it?
[VALENTINUS gets pelted with stones]
STONER 1: That'll teach him, dude!
STONER 2: Yeah!!
VALENTINUS: Hahaha!!! You missed me, you missed me!! I'm still alive!!
So then the stoners passed him onto the beheaders - and they didn't miss. Poor old Valentinus.
So, you may ask, what has that got to do with Valentine's Day as we know it?
Chuff knows. It's all about the media and marketing nowadays, in a ploy to fill the shelves with booze and chocolate in order to ruin everyone's diets. I mean, the original Valentinus might not have been married. He might not even have liked girls. Or boys! He might have just been all about the lion fighting!! I bet he would never have made anyone feel inadequate for being single, though. If Valentinus had any inkling that his name would be exploited in this manner nearly 2000 years after he died, I bet he'd be well narked.
So, no, today will not be a day of diet-breaking for me. I must say, during the weekend I did have a bit of a wobble, but didn't cave. There were sausages (Synful ones!) in the house. And white bread. And butter. I cannot tell you how much I craved buttery toast. God. I could almost taste it, all salty butter and crispy toast all fluffy on the inside...!! I feel like Homer Simpson...
No. I was strong. For all the good it'll do, I resisted temptation with the iron-like resolve of a girl who has seen lots of pretty dresses that she'd like to be able to fit into one day. I have to say I'd done rather well on the not-wobbling front up until this weekend, but I've been feeling very wobbly indeed over the last few days and just wanted to eat absolutely everything I've laid my eyes on. Whether or not it's edible. "EAT DRUMS, EAT CYMBALS!!!"
I'm going to have a day off on Saturday when Jo and I go to see Olly Murs in Manchester. I can last out until then. No. I have no idea what I'm going to wear. Everything I own is a bit old and battered and either slightly too big or slightly too small. Never mind. I'm sure I'll think of something.
I shall likely post again tomorrow. After all, Wednesdays are only slightly less miserable than Mondays and besides, I haven't really started panicking about my impending weigh-in yet. Knowing my luck I will have put weight on. Which is really depressing because we've had a rather skint week and I've hardly eaten anything at all anyway!! Ho hum. Just one pound. That's all. Just the one. Just one little pound. I'm not after much...!!
I must say I often feel sorry for St Valentine. All of them. There were about a dozen of them altogether, who comprise the modern-day Valentine. All the original Valentinus wanted to do was get on with the day to day aspects of being a Christian in Ancient Rome. Get up in the morning, have a wash, eat breakfast, have a bit of a pray, fight a couple of lions in the afternoon, come home for tea, have a bit of a pray, go to bed - that sort of thing. But no, the blokes in charge wouldn't have it and got a bit narky about him believing in one God rather than all seventy eight billion gods that the Romans had. When he tried to explain things to them in a rational manner, they freaked out and attempted to stone him to death:
STONER 1: Woooahh... dude, that guy's talking about one God!
STONER 2: Dude! That's so narly, dude!
STONER 1: Totally bodacious!
STONER 2: Let's stone him!
STONER 1: Dude, we've not got any spare, and my dad'll totally freak if he knows we've taken his!
STONER 2: Dude, I mean, let's throw large rocks at him!
STONER 1: Oh...!
VALENTINUS: That's a little harsh, isn't it?
[VALENTINUS gets pelted with stones]
STONER 1: That'll teach him, dude!
STONER 2: Yeah!!
VALENTINUS: Hahaha!!! You missed me, you missed me!! I'm still alive!!
So then the stoners passed him onto the beheaders - and they didn't miss. Poor old Valentinus.
So, you may ask, what has that got to do with Valentine's Day as we know it?
Chuff knows. It's all about the media and marketing nowadays, in a ploy to fill the shelves with booze and chocolate in order to ruin everyone's diets. I mean, the original Valentinus might not have been married. He might not even have liked girls. Or boys! He might have just been all about the lion fighting!! I bet he would never have made anyone feel inadequate for being single, though. If Valentinus had any inkling that his name would be exploited in this manner nearly 2000 years after he died, I bet he'd be well narked.
So, no, today will not be a day of diet-breaking for me. I must say, during the weekend I did have a bit of a wobble, but didn't cave. There were sausages (Synful ones!) in the house. And white bread. And butter. I cannot tell you how much I craved buttery toast. God. I could almost taste it, all salty butter and crispy toast all fluffy on the inside...!! I feel like Homer Simpson...
No. I was strong. For all the good it'll do, I resisted temptation with the iron-like resolve of a girl who has seen lots of pretty dresses that she'd like to be able to fit into one day. I have to say I'd done rather well on the not-wobbling front up until this weekend, but I've been feeling very wobbly indeed over the last few days and just wanted to eat absolutely everything I've laid my eyes on. Whether or not it's edible. "EAT DRUMS, EAT CYMBALS!!!"
I'm going to have a day off on Saturday when Jo and I go to see Olly Murs in Manchester. I can last out until then. No. I have no idea what I'm going to wear. Everything I own is a bit old and battered and either slightly too big or slightly too small. Never mind. I'm sure I'll think of something.
I shall likely post again tomorrow. After all, Wednesdays are only slightly less miserable than Mondays and besides, I haven't really started panicking about my impending weigh-in yet. Knowing my luck I will have put weight on. Which is really depressing because we've had a rather skint week and I've hardly eaten anything at all anyway!! Ho hum. Just one pound. That's all. Just the one. Just one little pound. I'm not after much...!!
Friday 10 February 2012
I Don't Feel Like Dancing
Well. I may not - but the llamas have certainly managed to muster up a gentle soft shoe shuffle sway. Hit it, lads!!
If you've never seen a herd of llamas hoofing to jazz music while wearing sombreros and leg warmers, it really is a sight to behold.
I lost 1 1/2lbs. Gutted. One measly, stinking, rotten pound off my first stone. That's all! A pound! That's all I needed!! Seven whole days of extra deprivation and generally Being Good - and all it came to was 1 1/2lbs. I don't know if I'd've felt much worse if I'd stayed the same or put weight on.
I wasn't expecting to feel this way on the weight loss front. Logically, you would think that any weight loss is great, and legend has it that losing small amounts of weight every week is healthier than losing tonnes of weight every week because the small amounts of weight tend to stay off more than the large amounts. I know all of that. I do. And I'm delighted that it's only taken five weeks to drop nearly a stone. But that's also the problem. NEARLY. Not quite.
I might blame yesterday, though. I knew it was going to be worse than I imagined. My colleague came into the office first thing yesterday morning and conversation went thus:
JAMES: Heath, how long do you get for lunch?
ME: Half an hour.
JAMES: If we all go a bit early, do you want to go to the Italian for lunch? My treat!
ME: [without pausing for thought] Yes. Yes. Yes I do. Yes. Yes please. I am in. [thinks for a moment] Hell to the yes. Yes yes.
I perused the menu and finally selected something that sounded very healthy. It promised salmon (free!) and penne (free!) in a tomato sauce with cherry tomatoes (depending on what oil they use... also free!). I thought at the most it'd only be three or four Syns. Well. It would have been - if the whole thing hadn't been cooked in a very rich buttery, creamy sauce!! ARGH!!!
Tell you what though. It was bloomin' *amazing*.
To make up for it, I went Bacardi-less last night. I think I've gone three nights this week without an alcoholic beverage. Three nights of sobriety and I still only lost 1 1/2 lbs!! Epic fail.
Apparently, everyone seems to think that if I continue in the same vein this week I will lose more next week. And I hope so. I know it isn't a race and that if I just keep doing what I'm doing I'll get there in the end... I just can't help but feel I'm failing a little bit.
I do, however, have a lovely weekend to look forward to, which I know will cheer me up no end. By the time Monday rolls around I will probably feel much more like my usual perky self, and not like Grumpy McGrumpster from the clan McGrumpbag. Hoots, ma wee tatty bogle.
I hope all of you are also planning on doing some fabulous things over the weekend. Whatever you do, have a great time, be good, if you can't be good, be careful - and don't forget to vote Team Pete on The Magicians on Saturday night!
If you've never seen a herd of llamas hoofing to jazz music while wearing sombreros and leg warmers, it really is a sight to behold.
I lost 1 1/2lbs. Gutted. One measly, stinking, rotten pound off my first stone. That's all! A pound! That's all I needed!! Seven whole days of extra deprivation and generally Being Good - and all it came to was 1 1/2lbs. I don't know if I'd've felt much worse if I'd stayed the same or put weight on.
I wasn't expecting to feel this way on the weight loss front. Logically, you would think that any weight loss is great, and legend has it that losing small amounts of weight every week is healthier than losing tonnes of weight every week because the small amounts of weight tend to stay off more than the large amounts. I know all of that. I do. And I'm delighted that it's only taken five weeks to drop nearly a stone. But that's also the problem. NEARLY. Not quite.
I might blame yesterday, though. I knew it was going to be worse than I imagined. My colleague came into the office first thing yesterday morning and conversation went thus:
JAMES: Heath, how long do you get for lunch?
ME: Half an hour.
JAMES: If we all go a bit early, do you want to go to the Italian for lunch? My treat!
ME: [without pausing for thought] Yes. Yes. Yes I do. Yes. Yes please. I am in. [thinks for a moment] Hell to the yes. Yes yes.
I perused the menu and finally selected something that sounded very healthy. It promised salmon (free!) and penne (free!) in a tomato sauce with cherry tomatoes (depending on what oil they use... also free!). I thought at the most it'd only be three or four Syns. Well. It would have been - if the whole thing hadn't been cooked in a very rich buttery, creamy sauce!! ARGH!!!
Tell you what though. It was bloomin' *amazing*.
To make up for it, I went Bacardi-less last night. I think I've gone three nights this week without an alcoholic beverage. Three nights of sobriety and I still only lost 1 1/2 lbs!! Epic fail.
Apparently, everyone seems to think that if I continue in the same vein this week I will lose more next week. And I hope so. I know it isn't a race and that if I just keep doing what I'm doing I'll get there in the end... I just can't help but feel I'm failing a little bit.
I do, however, have a lovely weekend to look forward to, which I know will cheer me up no end. By the time Monday rolls around I will probably feel much more like my usual perky self, and not like Grumpy McGrumpster from the clan McGrumpbag. Hoots, ma wee tatty bogle.
I hope all of you are also planning on doing some fabulous things over the weekend. Whatever you do, have a great time, be good, if you can't be good, be careful - and don't forget to vote Team Pete on The Magicians on Saturday night!
Wednesday 8 February 2012
Mama, do the Hump
Yes - THAT Hump! It's the Midweek Hump known as Wednesday, everyone! Happy Hump Day to you all!!
As it were.
So, The Phantom Winger is officially on hold while I await one of three things:
I've really given it quite a bit of thought. But I'm still not sure. I think it might work. But I seriously don't know. Part of me really wants to keep this blog as a distraction rather than my work - I don't want to make it too complicated. But then maybe if it comes naturally it might work better. Who knows.
So, enough of all that writing business. I appreciate that it's not a very interesting thing to talk about, it's just me doing a bit of stream-of-conscious, thinking-out-loud (or at least thinking on screen) type exercise.
As I'm sure all of you will be delighted to know, I am more or less completely cured of my cold. I can breathe and everything. This is great news.
I've also been keeping on the straightest and narrowest of paths this week. I've decided to cut my Syns down slightly from between 10-12 to between 7-10 for the next couple of weeks. I will lose that 2 1/2 lbs this week. I will. I may have already lost it, who knows. I'm not feeling drastically thinner but I am feeling ever so slightly smaller all the time. The strange thing that I'm noticing is that it's not taking nearly so much food to fill me up. I mean - I don't go back for seconds after tea. There generally isn't anything else to have, like, but I'm full. I think I'm starting to learn that not feeling painfully full doesn't necessarily mean that you've not eaten enough. I have breakfast, lunch and tea every day and I can honestly say that since my first loss, I've not had a snack between meals. I've never even felt particularly supper-ish when I'm watching Marvel cartoons at half eleven after Jo's gone to bed. It's all progress.
I can't wait for the day I can see my cheekbones again. I used to have them, y'know. Years ago. Back when I was thinner and certain people thought I looked like a young Nerys Hughes. It'll happen. Soon. Ish. Certainly by August. By my weigh in on 1st March I hope to have lost another half stone (after my 2 1/2 lb loss tomorrow, of course). Which is only slightly over 2lbs a week. So it's do-able.
Join me again on Friday when I will give you the full low-down from Fat Club. I really hope those llamas will be up and dancing again - I'll be dusting off their sombreros just in case!!
As it were.
So, The Phantom Winger is officially on hold while I await one of three things:
- A great start to Chapter Three hits me
- I stop panicking at the fact I haven't written anything in over two weeks
- I wrestle with the logistics of attempting to turn Diary of a Fat Girl into a sitcom.
I've really given it quite a bit of thought. But I'm still not sure. I think it might work. But I seriously don't know. Part of me really wants to keep this blog as a distraction rather than my work - I don't want to make it too complicated. But then maybe if it comes naturally it might work better. Who knows.
So, enough of all that writing business. I appreciate that it's not a very interesting thing to talk about, it's just me doing a bit of stream-of-conscious, thinking-out-loud (or at least thinking on screen) type exercise.
As I'm sure all of you will be delighted to know, I am more or less completely cured of my cold. I can breathe and everything. This is great news.
I've also been keeping on the straightest and narrowest of paths this week. I've decided to cut my Syns down slightly from between 10-12 to between 7-10 for the next couple of weeks. I will lose that 2 1/2 lbs this week. I will. I may have already lost it, who knows. I'm not feeling drastically thinner but I am feeling ever so slightly smaller all the time. The strange thing that I'm noticing is that it's not taking nearly so much food to fill me up. I mean - I don't go back for seconds after tea. There generally isn't anything else to have, like, but I'm full. I think I'm starting to learn that not feeling painfully full doesn't necessarily mean that you've not eaten enough. I have breakfast, lunch and tea every day and I can honestly say that since my first loss, I've not had a snack between meals. I've never even felt particularly supper-ish when I'm watching Marvel cartoons at half eleven after Jo's gone to bed. It's all progress.
I can't wait for the day I can see my cheekbones again. I used to have them, y'know. Years ago. Back when I was thinner and certain people thought I looked like a young Nerys Hughes. It'll happen. Soon. Ish. Certainly by August. By my weigh in on 1st March I hope to have lost another half stone (after my 2 1/2 lb loss tomorrow, of course). Which is only slightly over 2lbs a week. So it's do-able.
Join me again on Friday when I will give you the full low-down from Fat Club. I really hope those llamas will be up and dancing again - I'll be dusting off their sombreros just in case!!
Monday 6 February 2012
Ev'ry Day I'm Snuffling...
The dreaded lurgi has come upon me, folks. Eeeeeeeeeeeeee YIKKABOO!!
Okay fine, I wasn't trapped in an episode of The Goon Show, and I shall stop quoting and referencing things that most of you are likely unacquainted with. After all - I have, in fact, only got a cold.
That's another thing that historically doesn't help diets. I can never remember if it's 'starve a fever, feed a cold', or 'feed a fever, starve a cold', so I always feed both - just to be on the safe side. A cold on a weekend and I'm amazed I didn't consume my body weight in ice-cream. Because I could've, quite happily. After all, I've got some unopened Aldi's version of Ben & Jerry's Phish Phood (which is actually nicer than Ben & Jerry's! It's true. I don't lie about important things like this!) in the freezer that's been calling my name since I bought it on Christmas Eve!!
The thing is, and this is why I can never deal with having a cold - if your head is full of cold-type-coldness, you can't breathe. I don't mind being poorly so long as I can breathe in the usual manner. I don't think that's an unreasonable request. But food isn't as yummy when you can't breathe and it's somehow far more of an effort to eat on such occasions. Wainwright Mansions has been a very snuffly place, Jo's full of a cold too. In fact I have a sneaky suspicion that between her and my colleague who has been sniffling and coughing with gay abandon for the past week, it was always inevitable that I was going to get this thing. Hmph.
So, my weekend wasn't really very action packed as I did spend most of it feeling extremely sorry for myself. I mean, televisually, I had a corker. The Magicians (Oh, Pete Firman! How do I love thee? Let me count the ways! I'll start with your epically tight 60s style suits...!) was great. I'd hate to know how magic tricks work, I'm quite happy to think that it really is magic - like in Asgard (where Thor comes from, in case you weren't sure), where magic and science are the same thing! I've decided that magicians are the closest things in real life to superheroes. It's true.
I dragged myself out of my sick bed yesterday to go to Mum and Dad's to do a bit of ironing for them. Watched all but the last 10 minutes of the second episode of the second series of Sherlock, which I hadn't seen first time round. There was a *lot* of camera time spent panning dramatically around Benedict Cumberbatch, who was standing on the edge of a rock face, looking a mixture of pensive and grumpy, with his hair blowing in the wind and his coat billowing about behind him. Pretty sure it didn't add anything to the plot. In fact, it was blatantly just some sort of ploy to buoy up the ratings by making the whole thing seem more romanticised than it actually was and no doubt to appeal to the Bronte brigade who like the thought of grumpy chaps brooding on hillsides. I saw right through it, of course. Saw right through it - and welcomed it!! *swoon* No idea how it ends - don't spoil it for me!!
So, the main points from the weekend:
Okay fine, I wasn't trapped in an episode of The Goon Show, and I shall stop quoting and referencing things that most of you are likely unacquainted with. After all - I have, in fact, only got a cold.
That's another thing that historically doesn't help diets. I can never remember if it's 'starve a fever, feed a cold', or 'feed a fever, starve a cold', so I always feed both - just to be on the safe side. A cold on a weekend and I'm amazed I didn't consume my body weight in ice-cream. Because I could've, quite happily. After all, I've got some unopened Aldi's version of Ben & Jerry's Phish Phood (which is actually nicer than Ben & Jerry's! It's true. I don't lie about important things like this!) in the freezer that's been calling my name since I bought it on Christmas Eve!!
The thing is, and this is why I can never deal with having a cold - if your head is full of cold-type-coldness, you can't breathe. I don't mind being poorly so long as I can breathe in the usual manner. I don't think that's an unreasonable request. But food isn't as yummy when you can't breathe and it's somehow far more of an effort to eat on such occasions. Wainwright Mansions has been a very snuffly place, Jo's full of a cold too. In fact I have a sneaky suspicion that between her and my colleague who has been sniffling and coughing with gay abandon for the past week, it was always inevitable that I was going to get this thing. Hmph.
So, my weekend wasn't really very action packed as I did spend most of it feeling extremely sorry for myself. I mean, televisually, I had a corker. The Magicians (Oh, Pete Firman! How do I love thee? Let me count the ways! I'll start with your epically tight 60s style suits...!) was great. I'd hate to know how magic tricks work, I'm quite happy to think that it really is magic - like in Asgard (where Thor comes from, in case you weren't sure), where magic and science are the same thing! I've decided that magicians are the closest things in real life to superheroes. It's true.
I dragged myself out of my sick bed yesterday to go to Mum and Dad's to do a bit of ironing for them. Watched all but the last 10 minutes of the second episode of the second series of Sherlock, which I hadn't seen first time round. There was a *lot* of camera time spent panning dramatically around Benedict Cumberbatch, who was standing on the edge of a rock face, looking a mixture of pensive and grumpy, with his hair blowing in the wind and his coat billowing about behind him. Pretty sure it didn't add anything to the plot. In fact, it was blatantly just some sort of ploy to buoy up the ratings by making the whole thing seem more romanticised than it actually was and no doubt to appeal to the Bronte brigade who like the thought of grumpy chaps brooding on hillsides. I saw right through it, of course. Saw right through it - and welcomed it!! *swoon* No idea how it ends - don't spoil it for me!!
So, the main points from the weekend:
- I didn't eat too much. I've felt rotten so I've really not been in the mood for overnoshing of any kind. This is a good thing, really. No diets were broken. Or even bent.
- Magicians are real life superheroes. They can teleport. Or at least they can make you believe they can teleport, or indeed teleport other people, which is almost the same thing. And they can do mad crazed things with ordinary playing cards!!!
- If you're making a film or a television show and have a few extra minutes to fill in - make sure you can find a convenient hill to stick your main character on and tell him to pull his grumpiest face. It'll take you from a good show to a BAFTA nomination faster than you can blink.
Friday 3 February 2012
BOOM!
Get ready to practice your finest Running Man, llamas... Spev is Back In Business, Baby!!!
The scales treated me right last night. I lost 4 1/2 lbs!!
*AaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIBAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!*
Happy? Good grief. I smiled so much I looked like I had a feather in my knickers!
2 1/2 lbs to go and I'll have lost my first stone. I'll do it by next week. I will, I will, I will!! There's still two weigh-ins before Jo and I go to see Olly Murs, and three before Rachael and I go to see Pete Firman. I'll work extra hard over the next couple of weeks, try and get as close to my Club 10 target as possible. I know I won't reach it, it's impossible, but I'd like to be in striking distance of it. If I haven't explained what Club 10 is before - when you join Slimming World and you don't really know how much you want to lose, they suggest you try to lose 10% of your body weight as your first target, and then look at it again. It's quite a good way of doing it, say you're five stone overweight - 10% of that is... umm... half a stone (yes, I used a calculator!) - that's a much less scary target and feels more easily achievable.
Andrea the Consultant told us we might be moving to a school hall just a bit further down the road from the Church Hall. This suits me fine, I've never been too keen on the idea of going to a Church Hall. They make me feel a bit uncomfortable. I always feel bad for laughing at the cross that some kid made out of pipe cleaners that they've hung randomly on the wall, nowhere near anything else even similar to it.
She also told us that one of the gentlemen who goes to her Lostock Hall group (a couple of miles down the road) is a butcher on Oswaldtwistle Market - for all Southerners/Europeans/Americans, Oswaldwistle is a small market town in East Lancashire. Y'know in the Beatles song 'A Day in the Life' and John sings about 4,000 holes in Blackburn, Lancashire? Oswaldtwistle is quite near there. Not sure about how many holes are there. Probably not enough to fill the Albert Hall.
Anyway. Back to the butcher. Apparently he makes Slimming World sausages. I know, don't worry, I'm ahead of you on this - there will be a punchline eventually. But sausages, despite being possibly THE best invention since... I dunno... brandy... are scarily fattening. But apparently he makes them so that they aren't and you can feasibly have a proper Full English Breakfast with no guilt. Well in. He has offered to come to our class to give a talk about the Syn Free Sausage (I really did try to be mature at that point - and failed), and he has even agreed to bring in a few samples.
I say good on him. It's a brave man who stands up in front of a class full of 70 women and asks them if they'd like to sample his Syn Free Sausage.
Speaking of men - Dave the Bloke wasn't there!! Perhaps he was on holiday. Or perhaps he was poorly. Or something. I hope he hasn't quit. Little does he realise what a shining beacon of inspiration he was to all of us simply for having the guts to turn up every week and be outnumbered 70:1 by a horde of Leyland Women.
Beth the Legend put on 2lbs. She went to pick up a copy of the Slimming World magazine and told the girl that she'd put 2lbs on beacuse she'd conned herself into believing that flapjacks were part of her Healthy Extras!! When Andrea the Consultant asked what had happened she said, "Oh, it's just my necklace. It's very heavy. And my headband, I don't usually wear them!" Well, if she can put a weight gain down to her necklace, I can certainly put down last week's blip down to a held-in tinkle!!
So. It's true. If you stick to it, Slimming World works. And it isn't really too onerous to stick to. I've still got just on seven months before the Convention in August. If I really knuckle down, I know I can do it. It's tough work, especially around Easter and things, but it'll all be worth it in the end, I just know it.
Thanks for sticking with me on this particularly rambly blog. Much appreciated. Whatever you're doing over the next 48 hours, have a fabulous time, be good - and I'll see you again on Monday!!
The scales treated me right last night. I lost 4 1/2 lbs!!
*AaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIBAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!*
Happy? Good grief. I smiled so much I looked like I had a feather in my knickers!
2 1/2 lbs to go and I'll have lost my first stone. I'll do it by next week. I will, I will, I will!! There's still two weigh-ins before Jo and I go to see Olly Murs, and three before Rachael and I go to see Pete Firman. I'll work extra hard over the next couple of weeks, try and get as close to my Club 10 target as possible. I know I won't reach it, it's impossible, but I'd like to be in striking distance of it. If I haven't explained what Club 10 is before - when you join Slimming World and you don't really know how much you want to lose, they suggest you try to lose 10% of your body weight as your first target, and then look at it again. It's quite a good way of doing it, say you're five stone overweight - 10% of that is... umm... half a stone (yes, I used a calculator!) - that's a much less scary target and feels more easily achievable.
Andrea the Consultant told us we might be moving to a school hall just a bit further down the road from the Church Hall. This suits me fine, I've never been too keen on the idea of going to a Church Hall. They make me feel a bit uncomfortable. I always feel bad for laughing at the cross that some kid made out of pipe cleaners that they've hung randomly on the wall, nowhere near anything else even similar to it.
She also told us that one of the gentlemen who goes to her Lostock Hall group (a couple of miles down the road) is a butcher on Oswaldtwistle Market - for all Southerners/Europeans/Americans, Oswaldwistle is a small market town in East Lancashire. Y'know in the Beatles song 'A Day in the Life' and John sings about 4,000 holes in Blackburn, Lancashire? Oswaldtwistle is quite near there. Not sure about how many holes are there. Probably not enough to fill the Albert Hall.
Anyway. Back to the butcher. Apparently he makes Slimming World sausages. I know, don't worry, I'm ahead of you on this - there will be a punchline eventually. But sausages, despite being possibly THE best invention since... I dunno... brandy... are scarily fattening. But apparently he makes them so that they aren't and you can feasibly have a proper Full English Breakfast with no guilt. Well in. He has offered to come to our class to give a talk about the Syn Free Sausage (I really did try to be mature at that point - and failed), and he has even agreed to bring in a few samples.
I say good on him. It's a brave man who stands up in front of a class full of 70 women and asks them if they'd like to sample his Syn Free Sausage.
Speaking of men - Dave the Bloke wasn't there!! Perhaps he was on holiday. Or perhaps he was poorly. Or something. I hope he hasn't quit. Little does he realise what a shining beacon of inspiration he was to all of us simply for having the guts to turn up every week and be outnumbered 70:1 by a horde of Leyland Women.
Beth the Legend put on 2lbs. She went to pick up a copy of the Slimming World magazine and told the girl that she'd put 2lbs on beacuse she'd conned herself into believing that flapjacks were part of her Healthy Extras!! When Andrea the Consultant asked what had happened she said, "Oh, it's just my necklace. It's very heavy. And my headband, I don't usually wear them!" Well, if she can put a weight gain down to her necklace, I can certainly put down last week's blip down to a held-in tinkle!!
So. It's true. If you stick to it, Slimming World works. And it isn't really too onerous to stick to. I've still got just on seven months before the Convention in August. If I really knuckle down, I know I can do it. It's tough work, especially around Easter and things, but it'll all be worth it in the end, I just know it.
Thanks for sticking with me on this particularly rambly blog. Much appreciated. Whatever you're doing over the next 48 hours, have a fabulous time, be good - and I'll see you again on Monday!!
Wednesday 1 February 2012
Skipping Through Fields
With my Skip-It, of course!!
¯¯"Don't - stop - me - noooowwwww!!!!!" ¯¯
Yes. It actually arrived on Monday, except I was at work so I couldn't take delivery of it. So Dad picked it up for me yesterday, but I haven't actually seen him since Sunday... so... although it is in the ownership of yours truly, it still has yet to be acquainted with my right ankle. That'll all change this afternoon, of course. My little feet will be skipping about like nobody's business. You won't even see them, they'll be a blur. I'll make Michael Flatley look sedentary. I'll soon be in talks with various film studios to make my own Skip-It fitness video. Move over, Natalie Cassidy, there's a new former fat girl on the block!!!
Won't be long now. I'll be so skinny I'll vanish when I turn sideways.
I'm feeling really positive this week. About pretty much everything. I've started feeling thinner again, which is a good thing. Hopefully some weight's come off. I mean, I can see that I'm getting thinner, I just hope that the scales agree with me. I saw about a minute of The Simpsons the other night. Homer went into the bathroom to weigh himself and said "Okay, scales, you don't like me, and I don't like you. But I've been real good all week, so you better treat me right!"
Hands up everyone who knows that feeling!!! *raises both hands and a leg*
I was completely hardcore last night. I mean. Hardcore in the extreme. My sister was feeling poorly and not in the mood for healthy eating - so I went to Morrisons to get tea in for her. I bought and cooked her a stuffed crust cheese pizza *wibble* and bought myself some cooked chicken and a salad - and I threw the skin away!! I didn't cave for a second! I was strong - like She-Ra only less manly!! And as an extra special reward, I got to see Everton beat Manchester City 1-0. Hashtag See Oh Why Bee. Woop woop!!
The writer's block has come upon me again, I think I'm feeling a bit too cheerful to write about dead bodies and Russian spies. Well. Dead bodies, anyway, I'm always up for a Russian spy. As it were. I might undertake another writing project. If only a cracking premise would hit me, I could fulfil my main ambition and write a sitcom. I can't turn The Phantom Winger into a sitcom, before you ask. It's not that kind of a story. If only there was a distinct lack of flippant and irreverant sitcoms in Britain.
I suppose I could write a sitcom about a struggling writer trying to lose weight... Diary of a Fat Girl - The Sitcom!!
Join me again on Friday, when I will give you a full update on what happened at Fat Club, including any news on my weight fluctuation. Wish me luck, folks - I think I'm gonna need it!!
¯¯"Don't - stop - me - noooowwwww!!!!!" ¯¯
Yes. It actually arrived on Monday, except I was at work so I couldn't take delivery of it. So Dad picked it up for me yesterday, but I haven't actually seen him since Sunday... so... although it is in the ownership of yours truly, it still has yet to be acquainted with my right ankle. That'll all change this afternoon, of course. My little feet will be skipping about like nobody's business. You won't even see them, they'll be a blur. I'll make Michael Flatley look sedentary. I'll soon be in talks with various film studios to make my own Skip-It fitness video. Move over, Natalie Cassidy, there's a new former fat girl on the block!!!
Won't be long now. I'll be so skinny I'll vanish when I turn sideways.
I'm feeling really positive this week. About pretty much everything. I've started feeling thinner again, which is a good thing. Hopefully some weight's come off. I mean, I can see that I'm getting thinner, I just hope that the scales agree with me. I saw about a minute of The Simpsons the other night. Homer went into the bathroom to weigh himself and said "Okay, scales, you don't like me, and I don't like you. But I've been real good all week, so you better treat me right!"
Hands up everyone who knows that feeling!!! *raises both hands and a leg*
I was completely hardcore last night. I mean. Hardcore in the extreme. My sister was feeling poorly and not in the mood for healthy eating - so I went to Morrisons to get tea in for her. I bought and cooked her a stuffed crust cheese pizza *wibble* and bought myself some cooked chicken and a salad - and I threw the skin away!! I didn't cave for a second! I was strong - like She-Ra only less manly!! And as an extra special reward, I got to see Everton beat Manchester City 1-0. Hashtag See Oh Why Bee. Woop woop!!
The writer's block has come upon me again, I think I'm feeling a bit too cheerful to write about dead bodies and Russian spies. Well. Dead bodies, anyway, I'm always up for a Russian spy. As it were. I might undertake another writing project. If only a cracking premise would hit me, I could fulfil my main ambition and write a sitcom. I can't turn The Phantom Winger into a sitcom, before you ask. It's not that kind of a story. If only there was a distinct lack of flippant and irreverant sitcoms in Britain.
I suppose I could write a sitcom about a struggling writer trying to lose weight... Diary of a Fat Girl - The Sitcom!!
Join me again on Friday, when I will give you a full update on what happened at Fat Club, including any news on my weight fluctuation. Wish me luck, folks - I think I'm gonna need it!!
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