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!!

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... 

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...!!

Back to the Grindstone.... Thankfully!!

You know what the worst thing is for a new eating regime?  Weekends!

Honestly.  During the week you totally know where you're at on the 'keeping on the straight and narrow' front.  You throw some semblance of breakfast down your neck, you go to work, you have your lunch, you go back to work, you come home, you have your tea - it's all absolutely fine.  You don't even really need to think about it.

Weekends - where's the structure?!  There isn't any!!  ARGH!!  I like knowing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing and when I'm supposed to eat and what I'm supposed to be eating at that particular time so I don't end up overeating.  I know this sounds ridiculous.  I'm a reasonably intelligent adult and I shouldn't need to be told all of these things or have mealtimes dictated to me.  However, the simple fact is, I do.

My poor sister has had the weekend from hell and it has largely been due to me and my hysteria over food.  I have been some sort of not-so-lean, extremely mean eating machine over the last 48 hours, somewhat akin to Miss Pacman's identical psychotic twin sister.  Admittedly, everything I have eaten (more or less) has been Free Food and so technically according to the rules of Slimming World I haven't been 'overeating' as it were, but every time I get so much as a twinge in the intestinal area I immediately mistake it for a hunger pain and just keep hearing Andrea the Consultant's words reverberating round my head "if you get hungry, you aren't doing it right".  So, whether it's a piece of fruit or some salad or whatever, as soon as I've even thought I might be hungry, I've eaten something. 

Blasted Andrea the Consultant!!  I wish she hadn't said that!! My poor sister is being driven completely round the twist by me.  I have been vile this weekend.  Not even I've liked me.  So, before I tell you about Sunday night, I'd just like to take this opportunity to apologise profusely and wholeheartedly to my long-suffering sister, Jo. Although I will still probably get freaked out a little bit from time to time while I'm on this thing, I promise I will try a lot harder to keep my head and concentrate on things other than food.  I've been so busy concentrating on not freaking out that I didn't realise quite how completely I had freaked out.  I have been bang out of order, and I'm sorry.

Sunday night was lovely. It was my pals' 20th wedding anniversary and their daughter had organised a surprise party at a nearby Indian restaurant.  Audrey and John were sufficiently surprised and everyone had a lovely time.  It was really nice to see some people I hadn't seen in ages and to have a really good laugh with everyone.  One of my pals I was sat with is also on Slimming World - seems like the world and its auntie has joined up this year.  There's a bunch of them that go on a Tuesday morning.  I don't know how I'd feel about that.  In a way it'd be nice to have someone to go with to stop me from thinking "I won't go this week" but to be honest I really like the anonymity of nobody knowing me and keeping myself to myself. 

I'd been really good all day and only eaten Free Food because Indian food is chock full of Syns and although I knew I'd go over the requisite 15 Syns I wanted to put as much damage control into place as possible, so I also chose Free stuff like Diet Coke instead of beer and chose boiled rice instead of pilau rice.  Mightn't sound much but it really does add up.  I still think I probably had at least double the amount of Syns I would normally have had (I think I can more or less work it out from the book), but it's Monday again, yesterday is over - back to knuckling down and getting on with it.  It's a marathon, not a sprint, after all.  Although after all this, if I go on Thursday night and I've lost nothing (or worse yet, put it on), I genuinely do not know what I'm going to do with myself.  I'd jump off a cliff but I'm scared of heights!

No, don't be daft, of course I won't do anything that drastic.  I'm too lazy!!

I have quite a few things to do this week - boring things that have no place in a blog, so I may not post again until Wednesdsay.  I'll be talking about the plans for Chapter Two of the book and how the first draft of that is coming along, and I'll also have a look forward to my second weigh-in at Slimming World on Thursday night.