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...
Showing posts with label television. Show all posts
Showing posts with label television. Show all posts
Wednesday, 15 February 2012
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.
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