I'd like to dedicate today's blog title to my cousin Angela in honour of the best karaoke story ever!
I had a really weird dream last night that Adam and I went to see Michael Nesmith but Manchester had been taken over by zombies and we were trapped in a taxi with a zombie taxi driver. It was scary. I have no idea where it came from either, I am not a fan of the zombie on any level, and have never watched anything involving said mythical baddie ever in my life. Except an epsiode of The Man From U.N.C.L.E. called 'The Very Important Zombie Affair' and an episode of Gilligan's Island called 'Voodoo'. But in each case the zombie situation wasn't particularly threatening, least of all from Professor Roy Hinkley.
In fairness, I get that sort of 'undead' vibe from Manchester every time I visit the place.
And I have to say, he may unquestionably be very close to the top of my Favourite People in Existence list and he is an artistic, literary and musical Peter Perfect - but Mr Leslie screams like a girl when confronted by a zombie asking him for his taxi fare. Just sayin'.
Tell you what though, if any zombies even attempt to ruin my night seeing Nesmith, they'll be messing with the wrong girl...
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes. Manchester. *shudder* Let's get out of there.
I can't say the weekend has been particularly interesting. The rain was so bad on Friday (as previously documented) that I had to postpone Zara and Nicky coming to visit as Leyland was absolutely flooded, so Saturday went from being potentially the most exciting day of the year so far to being spent doing housework and glaring disapprovingly at the rain every time I looked out the window.
In the end I gave up and watched the Bourne Trilogy. I do love the Bourne films. I'm not a fan of Matt Damon, particularly - but I do love the films. They're all very exciting and there's hardly any dialogue to screw up, but there's loads of Jason Bourne looking all tortured and then going off killing people with biros and stuff - and the car chase in The Bourne Supremacy is possibly the best one in cinematic history. I can't wait till The Bourne Legacy comes out, it'll be more of the same (hey, if it ain't broke etc!) but with Jeremy Renner AND Edward Norton on the screen at the same time!! Eeep!! I'm far more excited about that than the Spider-Man and Batman films put together. Which sounds terrible coming from a huge fan of both Spider-Man and Batman, but there you go. Don't get me started on my trepidation for the new Spider-Man film. There's only one Peter Parker/Spider-Man and that's Tobey Maguire.
I know, I had a similar feeling about the Edward Norton/Mark Ruffalo/Hulk/Bruce Banner issue, and I was proved completely wrong there - but Spider-Man is my all-time favourite superhero and it genuinely didn't feel like Tobey Maguire ever needed to act that role. He just was Peter/Spidey. Say what you like about the Sam Raimi films, but they were all very special to me (especially Spider-Man 2) and it's going to take something spectacular to win me over. Judging by the reviews so far, I'm not going to build my hopes up.
2012 - it's an interesting year for cinema and no mistake!
I did overdo the Synnage on Friday - but I had spent the entire day being rained on and thought a couple of chuff-off brandies would have a medicinal benefit and stop me catching pneumonia. So far, so good - I've not even had a sniffle yet. So there must be something in it... I've been very good on the diet front since Friday, though. I've had a will of iron. I will lose that half-pound this week if it flippin' kills me!!!
I might have some exciting news on Wednesday. Why don't you join me then and find out?
Showing posts with label films. Show all posts
Showing posts with label films. Show all posts
Monday, 25 June 2012
Wednesday, 6 June 2012
The Blog Entry With No Name
It's all right, I didn't kill myself on Sunday as envisaged. I hit the 29 mark, I survived, I made it through, I'm going to continue with living for a little while longer. After all, I've lost three stone, it'd be a shame to waste it. I'll just have to be old and deal with it like normal people.
To combat the ageing blues, I've started a new (not 'new', exactly, more 'revisited' as I've loved this actor for years anyway) and more than likely short-lived cinematic obsession, it'll probably only last a few weeks. I can't even remember how many Stewart Granger films I've watched over the last three days. At least six. I've had a jolly good time doing it, too!! Did you know - and I certainly didn't, but I love him even more now I do know - his real name is James Stewart, but he had to change his name (he chose a mixture of his surname and his mum's maiden name) to stop him being mixed up with... well... James Stewart, aka my absolute favourite actor of all time! I mean, there is a resemblence, I suppose, they're both tall and a bit gormless-looking!! Good ol' Granger - he's like the David Bowie of cinema, but without heterochromia!! Scaramouche. Get it watched. It's a classic.
I went to a party on Friday night and I wore a dress that I bought from a high street shop. That's right. I walked into Dorothy Perkins. I saw a red dress (it's a constant source of disappointment to my Dad that, although I've been raised a true Evertonian, I love wearing red!). I thought "Oooh, that's pretty!" I saw it was very reasonably priced. I bought it. I tried it on. IT. FITTED. PERFECTLY. Seriously. It's such an achievement I really can't describe how chuffed I was. I might've still looked a mess, but at least I know that I can buy nice clothes on the high street now. I still have a long way to go, I know I do - but it was such a great feeling to go out in public wearing clothing that wasn't from the plus-size range!!
However, having said all that - I've decided to have a week off the diet. Not a going mad and turning into Miss Pacman type week off, but just a week off. It all started on Saturday. My lovely friend Clayre-Louyse and her husband, Adam, have moved near me. This is brilliant. Clayre and I have been friends for about eight years but we've always lived miles and miles away from each other - now she lives a ten minute walk away!! Hooraaayyy!! Anyway, I'd been in work all morning, then gone grocery shopping straight from work and by the time I got to Clayre's at half three, I hadn't eaten anything. I brought her a packet of biscuits (they always help with unpacking), really nice chocolatey ones, and she offered me one with my brew. Normally I'd've said no and been strong, but I hadn't eaten anything all day and I hadn't had a biscuit all year, so I accepted. I instantly thought "Gah, that's it now..." and decided to have a day off. In fact, I had a monumental day off. I went to the pub with my sister, had burger and chips and a pint of beer, followed by a chocolate ice-cream sundae, which had huge chunks of brownies in - and the brownies were still warm!! Oh my goodness! It was indescribably incredible!!
I really haven't had a huge day off like that yet, so I didn't feel too bad. But bank holidays are funny things, and I haven't been able to reign it back in as normal. I've not been spectacularly naughty, I've just not been nearly so strict with myself. So I'm not going to weigh-in tomorrow. A week off won't kill me. I'm still going to get there eventually. It feels like I've taken a bit of pressure off myself, which has to be a good thing. I'll get back on it properly and with a vengeance in the next day or so, I promise. I'm even strongly toying with the idea of joining a gym. Yes, you read that right. A gym. Cross-trainers, rowing machines, all that type of thing. A real live gym!
For those of you who are huge fans of the llamas - fear not! They will be out in fine style on Friday anyway, dancing away like things possessed, as I will be dedicating Friday's blog to a review of Nathan's album, which I received on Saturday morning. I'll tell you all about it then!!
To combat the ageing blues, I've started a new (not 'new', exactly, more 'revisited' as I've loved this actor for years anyway) and more than likely short-lived cinematic obsession, it'll probably only last a few weeks. I can't even remember how many Stewart Granger films I've watched over the last three days. At least six. I've had a jolly good time doing it, too!! Did you know - and I certainly didn't, but I love him even more now I do know - his real name is James Stewart, but he had to change his name (he chose a mixture of his surname and his mum's maiden name) to stop him being mixed up with... well... James Stewart, aka my absolute favourite actor of all time! I mean, there is a resemblence, I suppose, they're both tall and a bit gormless-looking!! Good ol' Granger - he's like the David Bowie of cinema, but without heterochromia!! Scaramouche. Get it watched. It's a classic.
I went to a party on Friday night and I wore a dress that I bought from a high street shop. That's right. I walked into Dorothy Perkins. I saw a red dress (it's a constant source of disappointment to my Dad that, although I've been raised a true Evertonian, I love wearing red!). I thought "Oooh, that's pretty!" I saw it was very reasonably priced. I bought it. I tried it on. IT. FITTED. PERFECTLY. Seriously. It's such an achievement I really can't describe how chuffed I was. I might've still looked a mess, but at least I know that I can buy nice clothes on the high street now. I still have a long way to go, I know I do - but it was such a great feeling to go out in public wearing clothing that wasn't from the plus-size range!!
However, having said all that - I've decided to have a week off the diet. Not a going mad and turning into Miss Pacman type week off, but just a week off. It all started on Saturday. My lovely friend Clayre-Louyse and her husband, Adam, have moved near me. This is brilliant. Clayre and I have been friends for about eight years but we've always lived miles and miles away from each other - now she lives a ten minute walk away!! Hooraaayyy!! Anyway, I'd been in work all morning, then gone grocery shopping straight from work and by the time I got to Clayre's at half three, I hadn't eaten anything. I brought her a packet of biscuits (they always help with unpacking), really nice chocolatey ones, and she offered me one with my brew. Normally I'd've said no and been strong, but I hadn't eaten anything all day and I hadn't had a biscuit all year, so I accepted. I instantly thought "Gah, that's it now..." and decided to have a day off. In fact, I had a monumental day off. I went to the pub with my sister, had burger and chips and a pint of beer, followed by a chocolate ice-cream sundae, which had huge chunks of brownies in - and the brownies were still warm!! Oh my goodness! It was indescribably incredible!!
I really haven't had a huge day off like that yet, so I didn't feel too bad. But bank holidays are funny things, and I haven't been able to reign it back in as normal. I've not been spectacularly naughty, I've just not been nearly so strict with myself. So I'm not going to weigh-in tomorrow. A week off won't kill me. I'm still going to get there eventually. It feels like I've taken a bit of pressure off myself, which has to be a good thing. I'll get back on it properly and with a vengeance in the next day or so, I promise. I'm even strongly toying with the idea of joining a gym. Yes, you read that right. A gym. Cross-trainers, rowing machines, all that type of thing. A real live gym!
For those of you who are huge fans of the llamas - fear not! They will be out in fine style on Friday anyway, dancing away like things possessed, as I will be dedicating Friday's blog to a review of Nathan's album, which I received on Saturday morning. I'll tell you all about it then!!
Wednesday, 2 May 2012
Game Face
You know, you'd be surprised at how many people were outraged by Andrea the Consultant's idiocy last Thursday. I know I am. There's been uproar. Who knows what to believe now?!
I suppose that the scales are entirely the wrong thing to concentrate on. I mean, yes, it was very disappointing when they said something I didn't like - but at the moment they give me a number I don't like every week. The number that I saw last Thursday was nowhere near as big as the number I saw on 5 January - in fact if I'd seen that number on 5 January I probably would have done a little jig of happiness. In fact... I can't actually remember what the scales said last Thursday. I'm now all confused with the numbers. It doesn't take much to confuse me in a numerical fashion. I think darts players have supercomputers hardwired into their brains for their incredible mathematical dexterity. How do they always know how count backwards from 501 to finish on a double?! It's a gift. Apparently the meaning of life is 42 - and I'm not mathematically qualified enough to provide any sort of argument to the contrary. I think it's a fluke that I passed my Maths GCSE the first time of asking!
The fact is, my clothes are even more baggy on me than they were a couple of weeks ago. That's got to be the main thing. I don't think it'll take a great deal more weight loss until I've dropped three dress sizes. I think I'm sort of between two and three dress sizes smaller, so obviously nothing fits at all at the moment and I look like a bit of a tramp, but it'll all be all right in the end.
Slimming World does work. I mean - it clearly works. Whether the scales say the right thing or not doesn't really matter - because they're not supposed to say the right thing until you're finished losing weight, that's the whole point.
So, then. Come on. Let's do this. If I was American I may even be tempted to say something motivational, grammatically questionable and a little urban like, "Bring it." But I'm not, so I won't. The fact is, I'm never going to get there if I curl up into a podgy ball and give up at my first real knockback. People put on weight all the time. I've been doing it for years. Even though I know I didn't actually put weight on last week - the only numbers I'm really interested in are the numbers on the labels in my clothes.
In other news, I discovered that my boss doesn't want me to work Saturdays any more. This was extremely annoying on two counts. Firstly, nobody had bothered to mention to me that my services weren't required on Saturdays before I turned up for work on Saturday, when they looked shocked and asked what I was doing there. Secondly, this officially means that I have to get a new job. I keep threatening it but unfortunately I really need to think about moving on now. I don't want to because I hate job hunting and being the newbie and getting to know another new set of people - but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And despite the fact there's a lot less of me now - I still gotta eat.
In other *other* news, I am researching like nobody's business in the hope of getting inspired to continue in The Phantom Winger (I heard someone say at Slimming World the other week that they'd been to the Phantom Winger, and it did take me a few moments to work out what they were talking about! I was all ready to say "Hey, I wrote that! What did you think of it?!" but then I remembered that a) it's a pub and b) I haven't written it yet! It's got a good ending, though. Or at least it will do.) - and by 'research', I basically mean I've been watching a lot of spy films. I think it's helping. Not that I condone or indulge in plaigarism, it's just that those sorts of films do help you to get in the right mindset for a good old spy romp. I'm hoping to make a bit of a start on Chapter Three next week, as soon as I work out exactly where to start it. I had such high hopes for being nearly halfway through the first draft by now, but alas - a writer's lot isn't always a productive one.
So, after a bit of a wobbly start to my weekend, I think things are starting to even out a bit. I'm not really looking forward to the weigh-in tomorrow, because who knows what the crazy scales will tell me this week - and I'm still feeling a bit guilty after Thursday's KFC!! However, whatever happens I will update you on my progress in Friday's blog. The llamas will be back by then, all relaxed and refreshed, and hopefully ready for a good old fiesta!! Get your maracas at the ready... you might well need 'em!!
I suppose that the scales are entirely the wrong thing to concentrate on. I mean, yes, it was very disappointing when they said something I didn't like - but at the moment they give me a number I don't like every week. The number that I saw last Thursday was nowhere near as big as the number I saw on 5 January - in fact if I'd seen that number on 5 January I probably would have done a little jig of happiness. In fact... I can't actually remember what the scales said last Thursday. I'm now all confused with the numbers. It doesn't take much to confuse me in a numerical fashion. I think darts players have supercomputers hardwired into their brains for their incredible mathematical dexterity. How do they always know how count backwards from 501 to finish on a double?! It's a gift. Apparently the meaning of life is 42 - and I'm not mathematically qualified enough to provide any sort of argument to the contrary. I think it's a fluke that I passed my Maths GCSE the first time of asking!
The fact is, my clothes are even more baggy on me than they were a couple of weeks ago. That's got to be the main thing. I don't think it'll take a great deal more weight loss until I've dropped three dress sizes. I think I'm sort of between two and three dress sizes smaller, so obviously nothing fits at all at the moment and I look like a bit of a tramp, but it'll all be all right in the end.
Slimming World does work. I mean - it clearly works. Whether the scales say the right thing or not doesn't really matter - because they're not supposed to say the right thing until you're finished losing weight, that's the whole point.
So, then. Come on. Let's do this. If I was American I may even be tempted to say something motivational, grammatically questionable and a little urban like, "Bring it." But I'm not, so I won't. The fact is, I'm never going to get there if I curl up into a podgy ball and give up at my first real knockback. People put on weight all the time. I've been doing it for years. Even though I know I didn't actually put weight on last week - the only numbers I'm really interested in are the numbers on the labels in my clothes.
In other news, I discovered that my boss doesn't want me to work Saturdays any more. This was extremely annoying on two counts. Firstly, nobody had bothered to mention to me that my services weren't required on Saturdays before I turned up for work on Saturday, when they looked shocked and asked what I was doing there. Secondly, this officially means that I have to get a new job. I keep threatening it but unfortunately I really need to think about moving on now. I don't want to because I hate job hunting and being the newbie and getting to know another new set of people - but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And despite the fact there's a lot less of me now - I still gotta eat.
In other *other* news, I am researching like nobody's business in the hope of getting inspired to continue in The Phantom Winger (I heard someone say at Slimming World the other week that they'd been to the Phantom Winger, and it did take me a few moments to work out what they were talking about! I was all ready to say "Hey, I wrote that! What did you think of it?!" but then I remembered that a) it's a pub and b) I haven't written it yet! It's got a good ending, though. Or at least it will do.) - and by 'research', I basically mean I've been watching a lot of spy films. I think it's helping. Not that I condone or indulge in plaigarism, it's just that those sorts of films do help you to get in the right mindset for a good old spy romp. I'm hoping to make a bit of a start on Chapter Three next week, as soon as I work out exactly where to start it. I had such high hopes for being nearly halfway through the first draft by now, but alas - a writer's lot isn't always a productive one.
So, after a bit of a wobbly start to my weekend, I think things are starting to even out a bit. I'm not really looking forward to the weigh-in tomorrow, because who knows what the crazy scales will tell me this week - and I'm still feeling a bit guilty after Thursday's KFC!! However, whatever happens I will update you on my progress in Friday's blog. The llamas will be back by then, all relaxed and refreshed, and hopefully ready for a good old fiesta!! Get your maracas at the ready... you might well need 'em!!
Friday, 27 April 2012
"...You Won't Like Me When I'm Angry..."
You do not know - you cannot possibly even begin to comprehend how much I was looking forward to yesterday, because I can't put that much excitement into words. I've been counting down the sleeps since about 60. I never thought that longed-for day would ever arrive, but then yesterday, it did.
The Avengers - Earth's Mightiest Heroes - finally Assembled. The sister and I went to the epicentre of small-town Lancashire, if not the universe (Preston), to see it. More on that later. I know I said I wouldn't turn into an hysterical wreck, but... to be honest, I had no other cause for celebration. There were plans for Southport but, despite me having such very high hopes for the day, not much turned out as planned.
I left work early so I could go to the 5:30p.m. weigh in and then go to Southport with Jo for a nice bit of a nosh-up at Nandos pre-film. But I hadn't reckoned on rush hour traffic on Golden Hill Lane in Leyland. My plans were ruined, so we decided that I'd get weighed early for the 7:30p.m. weigh in and we'd go to Preston instead and get KFC - it's the only savoury thing I've really craved and I haven't had it since last June when I went to see X-Men First Class. And as last week's plan of overindulging didn't go to plan, I thought I'd definitely be able to sin like mad with some well-deserved fast food.
I turned up at the Church Hall at about 7:20p.m. all full of hope - and was a bit peturbed to find that there was uproar in the group. Trouble at t'Mill, you might say. Everyone was angry. There was shouting, there was a lot of, "This is a [flipping] joke!" There was even a bit of, "That's it, I'm not wasting my time on this [nonsense] any more! Forget it! Shove your [blooming] weight loss regime!" It's a family-friendly blog, I had to censor the level of uproar!
I was, quite frankly, puzzled. Normally our group is very cheerful and happy and nobody's too grumpy at all. It's all really quite chilled out. Everyone usually has a bit of a giggle if they put weight on. Last night, however, was different. Quite, quite different. It looked like there was going to be a riot of some sort.
When I got to the weigh-in point, I asked the lady at the scales what was going on, and it turned out that Andrea the Consultant, in her infinite wisdom, had decided that the scales she's been using since time immemorial were weighing too light and so she'd bought new ones, which were weighing a bit heavy - so everyone had seemed to put weight on. The lady before me had apparently put 6 1/2 lbs on. There was fury. Real, proper anger.
I crossed my fingers, hoped for the best and got on the scales.
Apparently, despite the fact I'd done nothing differently during the past seven days and had eaten sensibly, done a bit of exercise and generally followed the same procedure that I have always done - I've put 3lbs on.
This is a nonsense. The red mist officially descended. I was livid. My blood pressure almost hit 200. I might've gone green, shot up in height and turned into an inarticulate rage monster. I very very nearly did. I ranted, I raved, I pointed out that we depend on the accuracy of the scales and we all spend good money each week on making sure that the equipment we need is there for us. Even if the scales themselves were inaccurate, the increments of weight loss should be reliable. Then I stormed out with some women who said they would never again darken the doorstep.
I just said I was going to the pictures and was quite noncommital about my proposed whereabouts for next week. I still don't know what to do.
Psychologically, she's done a really stupid thing to everyone. She has two classes and all members of both groups were furious with her - and I would feel sorry for her, but why would you do that to people? I mean, why? Seriously. But there's nothing we can do about it, she's not likely to change the scales back, and even if she did - next week wouldn't read right either because we've already been weighed on a different pair of scales. Basically - the thing not to do when you're a slimming consultant, I think, is to change from a pair of scales that allegdly 'weigh light' to a pair of scales that clearly 'weigh heavy' without giving anyone any prior warning. Just saying.
I know it only sounds like a little thing, but it isn't to me. I mean, I have worked really hard for this, and so's Jo with all her genius cooking, and so have all of you just by encouraging me to keep going and it really feels like the one person who shouldn't have pulled the rug from under me has done. It's like the goalposts have been moved on her whim, that whatever achievement I've celebrated I haven't been entitled to because the scales were wrong all along. I genuinely don't know what to think now. At this stage I'm really not sure if I want to go back to that group or not. It isn't just me she's let down, it's everybody. There will be a lot of grumpy fat people in Leyland today. More than usual.
Needless to say, I came home and immediately sent the llamas off for a well deserved break to Magaluf. Ricardo was very excited, Miguel decided he'd take fashion tips from Javier (the quiet one) and buy a bandana while he's out there, and Enrique had a panic attack because he didn't have time to do any practice packing. They'll need the rest. Perhaps they'll be back next week.
So, after bursting into tears and contemplating a longish trip to the roof of Argos followed by a short one down, we went to the cinema via KFC. I could practically feel my arteries hardening when I ordered! I didn't feel too bad. I had Diet Coke with it. Anyway. It was lovely and I really wasn't in the mood to think about my waistline.
The one thing I won't do is give away any spoilers for the film. Seriously. None. Not even non-plot related ones. All I'll say is this. I read practically every single article, watched every single interview, watched all the trailers, all the preview scenes, and generally obsessed like a loony over the film before it was released. When I did finally get to see it, nothing that I'd previously seen or read prepared me for it. It was absolutely incredible. There were thrills, spills, action, adventure, drama, some real belly laughs and a couple of really quite emotional moments. There were so many geeky comic book references, I was absolutely delighted. I developed an instant girl crush on Black Widow. She's just... Agh. I want to be her when I grow up. Or even just one tenth as kick-ass.
The one character I really wasn't looking forward to seeing was The Incredible Hulk. Not because I don't like him - I mean, a geeky scientific genius who happens to be notoriously grumpy, what's not to like about that?! But Edward Norton is my favourite actor of the modern age (James Stewart is my actual favourite actor of all time), and he has been for about 15 years, and it isn't because he's rather easy on the eye, it's because even though I haven't always liked all the films he's been in (take my advice, never watch a film called Down in the Valley. You won't get those two hours back!), I've always believed completely in every performance he's ever given. He's just an exceptionally talented man. I absolutely adored his performance as Bruce Banner in the last incarnation of The Incredible Hulk, and I was so gutted that he wasn't going to reprise that role in the Avengers that I really wasn't interested in whatever anyone else thought they might have to bring to the role. My attitude was very narrow-minded and sort of, "Huh! Mark Ruffalo? Who is he anyway? He's no Norton! He'll be rubbish. What the hell are Marvel playing at?!" etc etc. Well. I well and truly had my words forced back down my throat during the film. He was an absolute revalation, and, I have to admit it, he was actually far better than Edward Norton.
(If anyone was wondering when I was going to mention him - hell yes, it seriously is ALL about Hawkeye... *gazes off distractedly*)
Seriously, if you've been looking forward to it, forget absolutely all of your preconceptions and think bigger. It's like no superhero film you've ever seen before. I'm going to completely go out on a limb here and say it's my favourite ever superhero film, and by that I do include my beloved Spider-Man 2. It's more than just a great superhero film, it's simply a great film. There's something in it for everyone. It's amazing.
So, join me next week, when I should have calmed down from the hysteria of the film, and the red mist from the ridiculous weigh-in should have lifted by then too, when I'm sure I'll find something else to talk about...!!
The Avengers - Earth's Mightiest Heroes - finally Assembled. The sister and I went to the epicentre of small-town Lancashire, if not the universe (Preston), to see it. More on that later. I know I said I wouldn't turn into an hysterical wreck, but... to be honest, I had no other cause for celebration. There were plans for Southport but, despite me having such very high hopes for the day, not much turned out as planned.
I left work early so I could go to the 5:30p.m. weigh in and then go to Southport with Jo for a nice bit of a nosh-up at Nandos pre-film. But I hadn't reckoned on rush hour traffic on Golden Hill Lane in Leyland. My plans were ruined, so we decided that I'd get weighed early for the 7:30p.m. weigh in and we'd go to Preston instead and get KFC - it's the only savoury thing I've really craved and I haven't had it since last June when I went to see X-Men First Class. And as last week's plan of overindulging didn't go to plan, I thought I'd definitely be able to sin like mad with some well-deserved fast food.
I turned up at the Church Hall at about 7:20p.m. all full of hope - and was a bit peturbed to find that there was uproar in the group. Trouble at t'Mill, you might say. Everyone was angry. There was shouting, there was a lot of, "This is a [flipping] joke!" There was even a bit of, "That's it, I'm not wasting my time on this [nonsense] any more! Forget it! Shove your [blooming] weight loss regime!" It's a family-friendly blog, I had to censor the level of uproar!
I was, quite frankly, puzzled. Normally our group is very cheerful and happy and nobody's too grumpy at all. It's all really quite chilled out. Everyone usually has a bit of a giggle if they put weight on. Last night, however, was different. Quite, quite different. It looked like there was going to be a riot of some sort.
When I got to the weigh-in point, I asked the lady at the scales what was going on, and it turned out that Andrea the Consultant, in her infinite wisdom, had decided that the scales she's been using since time immemorial were weighing too light and so she'd bought new ones, which were weighing a bit heavy - so everyone had seemed to put weight on. The lady before me had apparently put 6 1/2 lbs on. There was fury. Real, proper anger.
I crossed my fingers, hoped for the best and got on the scales.
Apparently, despite the fact I'd done nothing differently during the past seven days and had eaten sensibly, done a bit of exercise and generally followed the same procedure that I have always done - I've put 3lbs on.
This is a nonsense. The red mist officially descended. I was livid. My blood pressure almost hit 200. I might've gone green, shot up in height and turned into an inarticulate rage monster. I very very nearly did. I ranted, I raved, I pointed out that we depend on the accuracy of the scales and we all spend good money each week on making sure that the equipment we need is there for us. Even if the scales themselves were inaccurate, the increments of weight loss should be reliable. Then I stormed out with some women who said they would never again darken the doorstep.
I just said I was going to the pictures and was quite noncommital about my proposed whereabouts for next week. I still don't know what to do.
Psychologically, she's done a really stupid thing to everyone. She has two classes and all members of both groups were furious with her - and I would feel sorry for her, but why would you do that to people? I mean, why? Seriously. But there's nothing we can do about it, she's not likely to change the scales back, and even if she did - next week wouldn't read right either because we've already been weighed on a different pair of scales. Basically - the thing not to do when you're a slimming consultant, I think, is to change from a pair of scales that allegdly 'weigh light' to a pair of scales that clearly 'weigh heavy' without giving anyone any prior warning. Just saying.
I know it only sounds like a little thing, but it isn't to me. I mean, I have worked really hard for this, and so's Jo with all her genius cooking, and so have all of you just by encouraging me to keep going and it really feels like the one person who shouldn't have pulled the rug from under me has done. It's like the goalposts have been moved on her whim, that whatever achievement I've celebrated I haven't been entitled to because the scales were wrong all along. I genuinely don't know what to think now. At this stage I'm really not sure if I want to go back to that group or not. It isn't just me she's let down, it's everybody. There will be a lot of grumpy fat people in Leyland today. More than usual.
Needless to say, I came home and immediately sent the llamas off for a well deserved break to Magaluf. Ricardo was very excited, Miguel decided he'd take fashion tips from Javier (the quiet one) and buy a bandana while he's out there, and Enrique had a panic attack because he didn't have time to do any practice packing. They'll need the rest. Perhaps they'll be back next week.
So, after bursting into tears and contemplating a longish trip to the roof of Argos followed by a short one down, we went to the cinema via KFC. I could practically feel my arteries hardening when I ordered! I didn't feel too bad. I had Diet Coke with it. Anyway. It was lovely and I really wasn't in the mood to think about my waistline.
The one thing I won't do is give away any spoilers for the film. Seriously. None. Not even non-plot related ones. All I'll say is this. I read practically every single article, watched every single interview, watched all the trailers, all the preview scenes, and generally obsessed like a loony over the film before it was released. When I did finally get to see it, nothing that I'd previously seen or read prepared me for it. It was absolutely incredible. There were thrills, spills, action, adventure, drama, some real belly laughs and a couple of really quite emotional moments. There were so many geeky comic book references, I was absolutely delighted. I developed an instant girl crush on Black Widow. She's just... Agh. I want to be her when I grow up. Or even just one tenth as kick-ass.
The one character I really wasn't looking forward to seeing was The Incredible Hulk. Not because I don't like him - I mean, a geeky scientific genius who happens to be notoriously grumpy, what's not to like about that?! But Edward Norton is my favourite actor of the modern age (James Stewart is my actual favourite actor of all time), and he has been for about 15 years, and it isn't because he's rather easy on the eye, it's because even though I haven't always liked all the films he's been in (take my advice, never watch a film called Down in the Valley. You won't get those two hours back!), I've always believed completely in every performance he's ever given. He's just an exceptionally talented man. I absolutely adored his performance as Bruce Banner in the last incarnation of The Incredible Hulk, and I was so gutted that he wasn't going to reprise that role in the Avengers that I really wasn't interested in whatever anyone else thought they might have to bring to the role. My attitude was very narrow-minded and sort of, "Huh! Mark Ruffalo? Who is he anyway? He's no Norton! He'll be rubbish. What the hell are Marvel playing at?!" etc etc. Well. I well and truly had my words forced back down my throat during the film. He was an absolute revalation, and, I have to admit it, he was actually far better than Edward Norton.
(If anyone was wondering when I was going to mention him - hell yes, it seriously is ALL about Hawkeye... *gazes off distractedly*)
Seriously, if you've been looking forward to it, forget absolutely all of your preconceptions and think bigger. It's like no superhero film you've ever seen before. I'm going to completely go out on a limb here and say it's my favourite ever superhero film, and by that I do include my beloved Spider-Man 2. It's more than just a great superhero film, it's simply a great film. There's something in it for everyone. It's amazing.
So, join me next week, when I should have calmed down from the hysteria of the film, and the red mist from the ridiculous weigh-in should have lifted by then too, when I'm sure I'll find something else to talk about...!!
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
Easter Parade
So, the Easter weekend did screw up my opportunities to post any blog entries and as a result I may have wavered somewhat over the weekend in my healthy eating resolve. But never mind. Holidays are always peculiar times for everyone. I mean, how many of you have to keep reminding yourself that it's Tuesday?! Don't lie, now, I've done it about 100 times already this morning!!
On Thursday I went for the weigh in a little earlier than usual. My goal was to reach my Club 10 target by Easter and as I was only 2lbs away from it I thought I might've done it. I was pretty good during the week. I mean, there was Saturday, where I consumed my entire year's worth of calories in liquid form. But I really reined it back in over the rest of the week, even though I didn't do a great deal of exercise, and although I didn't really hold out a great deal of hope, I though that perhaps I might've just done it - or at least just got within a pound or so.
Luckily, I lost 2 1/2lbs. So, my Easter target was met, the llamas fiesta-ed like there was no tomorrow, and the weekend began in a very merry fashion indeed. It was all good in the proverbial hood.
The highlight of the weekend, definitely, was getting my sister to watch films. Normally our flat is a bit of a Sport Only Zone, and although I can put up with sport as much as the next person and I do try and get into it, we did seem to spend the week leading up to The Masters exclusively watching Sky Sports News, which did start to grate a little. So, on Friday, we watched, not one, but THREE films. They included Muppets Treasure Island (it's no Robert Newton version, I grant you - but it does have Kermit the Frog, which the original Disney version definitely couldn't boast), The Cutting Edge (yes, it's a chick flick - but the leading lady was the voice of Nala in The Lion King which instantly makes her okay by me, and it was a sport-based chick flick so it wasn't quite as awful as it could have been) and - and this was quite an achievement, I feel - Thor! I'd re-bought it that morning because I'd loaned it to Rachael a few months ago and was really starting to get terrible withdrawals from it. I mean, you can't go too far wrong with a Kenneth Branagh film. It's like he married superheroes and Shakespeare, two of my favourite things, to make an absolute epic. Loved it. It had action, humour, explosions, scary baddies, brilliant dialogue, Chris Hemsworth, Aled from the Chris Moyles Breakfast Show (in disguise as Loki) and a cameo from my new future ex-husband, Jeremy Renner (the trick with celebrity crushes is to aim ridiculously high but stay realistic!). I mean, what more do you want from a film?!
Jo actually liked it, in the main (she mostly liked the scene where Thor stalked around the kitchen in no shirt and then declared, "This mortal frame requires sustenance! Bring me food!") - but she was a bit peeved that there was no snog at the end between Thor and Natalie Portman. Well. I'm sure there'll be one in Thor 2. MAYBE even one in The Avengers - he has to get back to earth somehow and he might've taken time out to look her up. But there WAS one about 20 minutes from the end, I mean - isn't that enough PDA for one film?! Anyway, she should try being a Spider-Man fan. We had to wait until right at the end of Spidey 2 before Peter and Mary-Jane got together!!
The rest of the weekend was, however, completely taken up with sport. There was a lot of The Masters - and congratulations to Bubba Watson on a well-deserved win. We also watched a bit of rugby and saw Wigan batter St Helens in the Good Friday fixture - but no sporting achievement was as well-received in Wainwright Mansions as Everton walloping Sunderland 4-0 at Goodison yesterday. Fabulous news. Just hope we can keep it up for when we face Liverpool at Wembley on Saturday for the FA Cup Semi-Final. *worries*.
So now, back to work. For as long as that lasts, anyway. I've decided to look for something else. It's been two years now and to be honest I really need to work full-time, which is something I can't do here. It's a lot of upheaval, but with so many other things changing this year, perhaps a new job really is the way forward. Who knows. I mean, obviously, when Adam and I win the BBC sitcom competition, all our worries will be over - but until then I suppose boring secretary jobs will have to do!!
Join me again on Friday, when I'll be able to give you the lowdown on what happens at the weigh-in on Thursday. I need to lose 3 1/2 lbs to get my next half-stone award, which I doubt will happen, but I might at least get halfway there...!!
On Thursday I went for the weigh in a little earlier than usual. My goal was to reach my Club 10 target by Easter and as I was only 2lbs away from it I thought I might've done it. I was pretty good during the week. I mean, there was Saturday, where I consumed my entire year's worth of calories in liquid form. But I really reined it back in over the rest of the week, even though I didn't do a great deal of exercise, and although I didn't really hold out a great deal of hope, I though that perhaps I might've just done it - or at least just got within a pound or so.
Luckily, I lost 2 1/2lbs. So, my Easter target was met, the llamas fiesta-ed like there was no tomorrow, and the weekend began in a very merry fashion indeed. It was all good in the proverbial hood.
The highlight of the weekend, definitely, was getting my sister to watch films. Normally our flat is a bit of a Sport Only Zone, and although I can put up with sport as much as the next person and I do try and get into it, we did seem to spend the week leading up to The Masters exclusively watching Sky Sports News, which did start to grate a little. So, on Friday, we watched, not one, but THREE films. They included Muppets Treasure Island (it's no Robert Newton version, I grant you - but it does have Kermit the Frog, which the original Disney version definitely couldn't boast), The Cutting Edge (yes, it's a chick flick - but the leading lady was the voice of Nala in The Lion King which instantly makes her okay by me, and it was a sport-based chick flick so it wasn't quite as awful as it could have been) and - and this was quite an achievement, I feel - Thor! I'd re-bought it that morning because I'd loaned it to Rachael a few months ago and was really starting to get terrible withdrawals from it. I mean, you can't go too far wrong with a Kenneth Branagh film. It's like he married superheroes and Shakespeare, two of my favourite things, to make an absolute epic. Loved it. It had action, humour, explosions, scary baddies, brilliant dialogue, Chris Hemsworth, Aled from the Chris Moyles Breakfast Show (in disguise as Loki) and a cameo from my new future ex-husband, Jeremy Renner (the trick with celebrity crushes is to aim ridiculously high but stay realistic!). I mean, what more do you want from a film?!
Jo actually liked it, in the main (she mostly liked the scene where Thor stalked around the kitchen in no shirt and then declared, "This mortal frame requires sustenance! Bring me food!") - but she was a bit peeved that there was no snog at the end between Thor and Natalie Portman. Well. I'm sure there'll be one in Thor 2. MAYBE even one in The Avengers - he has to get back to earth somehow and he might've taken time out to look her up. But there WAS one about 20 minutes from the end, I mean - isn't that enough PDA for one film?! Anyway, she should try being a Spider-Man fan. We had to wait until right at the end of Spidey 2 before Peter and Mary-Jane got together!!
The rest of the weekend was, however, completely taken up with sport. There was a lot of The Masters - and congratulations to Bubba Watson on a well-deserved win. We also watched a bit of rugby and saw Wigan batter St Helens in the Good Friday fixture - but no sporting achievement was as well-received in Wainwright Mansions as Everton walloping Sunderland 4-0 at Goodison yesterday. Fabulous news. Just hope we can keep it up for when we face Liverpool at Wembley on Saturday for the FA Cup Semi-Final. *worries*.
So now, back to work. For as long as that lasts, anyway. I've decided to look for something else. It's been two years now and to be honest I really need to work full-time, which is something I can't do here. It's a lot of upheaval, but with so many other things changing this year, perhaps a new job really is the way forward. Who knows. I mean, obviously, when Adam and I win the BBC sitcom competition, all our worries will be over - but until then I suppose boring secretary jobs will have to do!!
Join me again on Friday, when I'll be able to give you the lowdown on what happens at the weigh-in on Thursday. I need to lose 3 1/2 lbs to get my next half-stone award, which I doubt will happen, but I might at least get halfway there...!!
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