I would like to apologise for my complete failure on the blogging front recently. Work's been mental and I haven't had time to write. Sorry.
Thursday went well. I lost 2 1/2 lbs. I now have 2 1/2 lbs to lose before I get my 4 stone award. I'd LOVE it if it was this week. I'm giving it my best shot this week. I've been determined, I'm still on the wagon (Day 16. Blood is now coursing through my alcohol stream. I'm starting to see things as they really are. 'Floor!' 'Curtains!' 'Gobshite!' Erm. Sorry. Just went all Father Ted there for a minute!), I've kept to well under 10 Syns a day, except for Saturday when I went half a Syn over, but I'm not worried about that really. I've walked a lot. I haven't been quite as stressed out this week as I have been during the last two weeks about losing weight. I don't feel any different or any thinner. I know I couldn't possibly have put weight on with the things I've been eating, but hey - who knows how the human body works? Certainly not me. It'th a mythtery, as Toyah Wilcox might say. For the benefit of my readers under the age of 35 and who therefore don't know who Toyah Wilcox is - ask your mum. She'll always be Monkey to me. Toyah, that is. Not your mum. I feel as though I'm unwittingly starting to stray into unintentional 'your mum' jokes territory. I'm going to end this aside right now before I get into trouble!
I'm really sorry you missed the fiesta. It was a special fiesta as well, in honour of the synchronised swimming. Ricardo has become obsessed with it. He designed a load of inflatable leg warmers for the llamas and they did a fabulous routine. If I get my 4 stone shiny sticker this week I'll get them to re-create the whole thing for you.
I should point out at this juncture that I will probably be off-grid for the next ten days or so. I'll update as much as I can, obviously, but on Friday, Saturday and Sunday I shall be at the annual District Convention of Jehovah's Witnesses in Liverpool. In the North West for the last 14 years or so it's been held at the Manchester Arena and it's a big, scary place, so my family and I have escaped to somewhere far more exotic for the Convention over the last few years. Stoke-on-Trent. Anyway, this year it's in Liverpool, and as my entire family are from the glorious city, we're very excited about the prospect.
I have new dresses. I had a disastrous afternoon's shopping on Saturday. Not that the company was disastrous, you understand - it was fabulous. After all, I was with my pal, Heather. I know. Two Heathers, no messing. She's awesome and I love her to distraction. So, I had a grand old time as always with her, it was just the dresses were the problem. They were either too short or too low (and although I'm skinny now, I still have massive knockers to deal with) - and often both at the same time. Although at least they all fitted me. It's nice to know that I can walk into a shop, pick up a dress in a particular size and know that it will fit me. I don't think I've ever done that before. It's all progress. I found a new dress yesterday, which is very pretty and fits me, so I'm nearly replete with dresses in my wardrobe, which is all very exciting. Eventually, I will post my 'before' and 'half way through' photos. I just need to retrieve the 'before' photo that my Auntie Heather took of me in January!
After the Convention, I'm moving out of home for a week or so. Long story. I'm sleeping at my pal's house for a few nights and then staying with another pal for a few nights. I should still be able to update the blog while I'm away because I'll still be working, but if not, you'll know why. My life should hopefully return to normal - well, as normal as my life ever gets, anyway - on or around 23 August, which coincides with the Global Public Holiday I've been campaigning for for the last who knows how long - International Keith Moon Day. Everything is wonderful on that day, it's by far my favourite day on the calendar. So it's only fitting, really, that everything sorts itself out by then.
I shall try to update on Wednesday or Thursday but I won't be able to update on my results from Fat Club until at least Monday next week. Sorry about that, chaps. Wish me luck though. I have a feeling that this week I'm seriously going to need it!!
Showing posts with label weekends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weekends. Show all posts
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
Friday, 29 June 2012
Two Steps Behind
Thank you to Def Leppard for providing the title to today's blog post. It's in reference to the fact that at the moment I seem to be two steps behind the step forward I'd taken at last week's Fat Club.
I'm sending the llamas to Madrid for the weekend. It's the Euro 2012 final on Sunday and they're supporting Spain. They're all so excited it's been pandemonium round here, what with them flinging their sombreros in the air with jubilation, Enrique doing back flips all over the place, Ricardo getting busy making red and yellow leg warmers for the occasion and Miguel finally getting up from his sick bed to look for his passport. He's still only on three legs at the moment but the cast is due to come off next week, and he can start training again in a couple of weeks.
You know what that means, of course, and they're so busy celebrating the fact that they're going on holiday that they've failed to notice that there will be no fiesta this week. They only get upset when I don't lose weight, and have you ever seen an unhappy llama face? It'd melt a heart of lead, I'm telling you. Look:
Imagine twenty of those. I simply couldn't do it to them.
After a week of hard slog, self-deprivation, a will of cast iron and Synning like a Puritan in an attempt to lose half a goddam sodding pound - I somehow inexplicably managed to put ON half a pound!!
I was gutted. And really really narked. Those blooming scales haven't been on my side since Andrea the Consultant bought them!!
So, I felt the only thing to do under the circumstances was to come home, pour out a few large glasses of something interesting and have my first pizza of the year. Let's face it, if I put half a pound on by being majorly strict, I may as well eat yummy food and have a good time putting weight on!!
Of course, I'm back on it today. I do think having nights where you think "Soddit!" is an important part of the whole process. I'm not going to put 3 1/2 stone back on by eating half a pizza and a enjoying a couple of drinks while I'm watching the football once in six months. So long as it's just ONE night of forgetting about it out of seven or fourteen or thirty or however often you officially come to the end of your tether, rather than every night, it's not going to do you any harm and it does keep you going on the straight and narrow for a lot longer. Constantly saying 'no' to food and drink that you're dying to say 'yes' to just depresses you, especially when you feel like you're constantly saying 'no' and not seeing any results from it. Like me, at the moment.
Although I was genuinely buoyed when one of the ladies at Fat Club who hadn't been for the last couple of weeks turned to me and said, "Bloomin' 'eck, you haven't half gone skinny! You can really see it in your face! You're doing brilliant!" I mean, I was so pleased that I didn't even think about correcting her grammar!!
I know half a pound isn't the end of the world, but it's just so annoying. I honestly feel at the moment that I will never ever get there. Ever. So I'm not going to think about it for the next few days, it's just too depressing.
Besides, I've started reading again. You know the biggest tip writers get? READ. As much as you can. Just give it a whirl. Get reading. Open a book, sit down for an hour and let your eyes dance across the pages. Not literally. I have to say, when I was younger I was known to (my friend Emily will testify to this) read at least two books in one night. Of late, I've totally got out of the habit of reading. It's sheer laziness. I've had the best of intentions of reading and just never got round to actually doing it in ages and ages. Not properly. Not in that 'I am actually so into this book that I have utterly lost my grip on reality' manner that made me fall in love with books and reading and writing in the first place type fashion. Until yesterday when I started reading The Prisoner of Zenda. I have a feeling that even though I've only read the first three chapters, if anyone wants me for the next week or so, I'll be in Ruritania.
The reason I'm telling you this is because I think I've discovered the real cause of my writer's block. I vaguely realised it yesterday afternoon when I read a snippet of Suzie Tullet's current work in progress, and couldn't stop thinking about all the different directions the story could have come from and might go to. The realisation was cemented when I started reading Zenda. I haven't read anything - and so it naturally follows that I can't write anything.
I don't even know how this works. It's some sort of magic. I had worried for a while that writing after reading would be viewed by others as a type of plaigarism. This, however, is a stupid line of reasoning because - as everyone knows - there are only seven stories, therefore there are no original ideas, there are only variations on themes. But reading actually doesn't have the effect of making someone write a carbon copy of what they've read. It does more than that. It somehow manages to realign your brain into thinking creatively, so that you can form your own plots and subplots and tangents from what you're writing - no story ever really finishes because everyone can add to it or put their own spin on it. It brings characters and worlds to life and it shows you the way you need to construct sentences, paragraphs and dialogue in order to do it. They're How-To manuals for the Muse. It makes the Muse think 'hang on a minute, I can do better than that!' and then before you know it you've written something, most of the time completely different to the thing you've been reading. I simply haven't had anything to work from. That's my problem.
I really wish I'd made this glaringly obvious discovery a lot sooner. I might need to go off-grid while I get some heavy duty reading done over the next few weeks. I have ideas and hopefully this will help me to realise them.
So, all in all, the utter devastation I felt last night has somewhat dissipated (I think the pizza and brandy helped massively, in fairness) and I'm really rather looking forward to the weekend. Hopefully I'll get a lot of reading and some other rather important things done and when I report back on Monday I can tell you all about The Prisoner of Zenda and what happened to Rudolf Rassendyll at the coronation... I hope that Michael fella keeps out of it. Never trust a fictional character who has been played onscreen by James Mason - that's my advice!!
Whatever you're up to this weekend, have a lovely time, and thank you so much for sitting through this torturously long blog entry!!
I'm sending the llamas to Madrid for the weekend. It's the Euro 2012 final on Sunday and they're supporting Spain. They're all so excited it's been pandemonium round here, what with them flinging their sombreros in the air with jubilation, Enrique doing back flips all over the place, Ricardo getting busy making red and yellow leg warmers for the occasion and Miguel finally getting up from his sick bed to look for his passport. He's still only on three legs at the moment but the cast is due to come off next week, and he can start training again in a couple of weeks.
You know what that means, of course, and they're so busy celebrating the fact that they're going on holiday that they've failed to notice that there will be no fiesta this week. They only get upset when I don't lose weight, and have you ever seen an unhappy llama face? It'd melt a heart of lead, I'm telling you. Look:
Imagine twenty of those. I simply couldn't do it to them.
After a week of hard slog, self-deprivation, a will of cast iron and Synning like a Puritan in an attempt to lose half a goddam sodding pound - I somehow inexplicably managed to put ON half a pound!!
I was gutted. And really really narked. Those blooming scales haven't been on my side since Andrea the Consultant bought them!!
So, I felt the only thing to do under the circumstances was to come home, pour out a few large glasses of something interesting and have my first pizza of the year. Let's face it, if I put half a pound on by being majorly strict, I may as well eat yummy food and have a good time putting weight on!!
Of course, I'm back on it today. I do think having nights where you think "Soddit!" is an important part of the whole process. I'm not going to put 3 1/2 stone back on by eating half a pizza and a enjoying a couple of drinks while I'm watching the football once in six months. So long as it's just ONE night of forgetting about it out of seven or fourteen or thirty or however often you officially come to the end of your tether, rather than every night, it's not going to do you any harm and it does keep you going on the straight and narrow for a lot longer. Constantly saying 'no' to food and drink that you're dying to say 'yes' to just depresses you, especially when you feel like you're constantly saying 'no' and not seeing any results from it. Like me, at the moment.
Although I was genuinely buoyed when one of the ladies at Fat Club who hadn't been for the last couple of weeks turned to me and said, "Bloomin' 'eck, you haven't half gone skinny! You can really see it in your face! You're doing brilliant!" I mean, I was so pleased that I didn't even think about correcting her grammar!!
I know half a pound isn't the end of the world, but it's just so annoying. I honestly feel at the moment that I will never ever get there. Ever. So I'm not going to think about it for the next few days, it's just too depressing.
Besides, I've started reading again. You know the biggest tip writers get? READ. As much as you can. Just give it a whirl. Get reading. Open a book, sit down for an hour and let your eyes dance across the pages. Not literally. I have to say, when I was younger I was known to (my friend Emily will testify to this) read at least two books in one night. Of late, I've totally got out of the habit of reading. It's sheer laziness. I've had the best of intentions of reading and just never got round to actually doing it in ages and ages. Not properly. Not in that 'I am actually so into this book that I have utterly lost my grip on reality' manner that made me fall in love with books and reading and writing in the first place type fashion. Until yesterday when I started reading The Prisoner of Zenda. I have a feeling that even though I've only read the first three chapters, if anyone wants me for the next week or so, I'll be in Ruritania.
The reason I'm telling you this is because I think I've discovered the real cause of my writer's block. I vaguely realised it yesterday afternoon when I read a snippet of Suzie Tullet's current work in progress, and couldn't stop thinking about all the different directions the story could have come from and might go to. The realisation was cemented when I started reading Zenda. I haven't read anything - and so it naturally follows that I can't write anything.
I don't even know how this works. It's some sort of magic. I had worried for a while that writing after reading would be viewed by others as a type of plaigarism. This, however, is a stupid line of reasoning because - as everyone knows - there are only seven stories, therefore there are no original ideas, there are only variations on themes. But reading actually doesn't have the effect of making someone write a carbon copy of what they've read. It does more than that. It somehow manages to realign your brain into thinking creatively, so that you can form your own plots and subplots and tangents from what you're writing - no story ever really finishes because everyone can add to it or put their own spin on it. It brings characters and worlds to life and it shows you the way you need to construct sentences, paragraphs and dialogue in order to do it. They're How-To manuals for the Muse. It makes the Muse think 'hang on a minute, I can do better than that!' and then before you know it you've written something, most of the time completely different to the thing you've been reading. I simply haven't had anything to work from. That's my problem.
I really wish I'd made this glaringly obvious discovery a lot sooner. I might need to go off-grid while I get some heavy duty reading done over the next few weeks. I have ideas and hopefully this will help me to realise them.
So, all in all, the utter devastation I felt last night has somewhat dissipated (I think the pizza and brandy helped massively, in fairness) and I'm really rather looking forward to the weekend. Hopefully I'll get a lot of reading and some other rather important things done and when I report back on Monday I can tell you all about The Prisoner of Zenda and what happened to Rudolf Rassendyll at the coronation... I hope that Michael fella keeps out of it. Never trust a fictional character who has been played onscreen by James Mason - that's my advice!!
Whatever you're up to this weekend, have a lovely time, and thank you so much for sitting through this torturously long blog entry!!
Monday, 25 June 2012
Rainy Days and Mondays...
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?
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?
Friday, 15 June 2012
Keep On Keeping On
There is a double celebration of fiesta-ing today in the Diary, and a good job too. The llamas have had three weeks off and Enrique has started panicking that if they have any more time off, their muscles will all seize up and they'll never be able to do those high-kicks again.
To mark the glorious occasion, they've decided on a very spectacular stunt. Miguel has bravely offered to be a llama cannonball!! Ricardo has designed a lovely red sparkly cape for the occasion. It'll be the finale sequence to the fiesta and I'm sure it'll be a breathtaking sight!
The first reason I'm celebrating is, after a week off and not really following the diet strictly at all - it turns out I've lost a whopping FOUR POUNDS!!! I'm now just 1 1/2 lbs off having lost 3 1/2 stone!! For those still keeping track, I've lost 47 1/2 lbs in 23 weeks. Which is still quite good going.
*AAARRRRIIIIBBAAAAAA!!!!!!*
The second reason for celebration is that I have actually managed to get tickets to see Michael Nesmith - after a very dramatic turn of events this morning. It nearly didn't happen at all - but eventually I got two seats. They're back row, I grant you, and when I had the possibilty of seats in the third row at first, it does sting somwhat, but there are only 12 rows in total, the venue only seats 460, and I think the hall is laid out in such a way that there's really no such thing as a bad seat. I mightn't get to see every whisker on his face but I'll certainly know it's the right fella.
WOOOOOOOHHHHOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
*dances round like a mad eejit*
133 sleeps, apparently. According to my calculations, there were 136 but I'm reliably informed there are only 133. This is very exciting news. I just hope by then I'll be as close as possible to my target size. I've got four and a half months to lose three dress sizes. I think I can do it. I hope so. Even two would be great!!
Anyway, back to Slimming World. My mum joined last night!! This is great news. Partly because I get in next week free for introducing someone. I really hope she makes a good job of it. She only wants to lose the same amount I've already lost. And I've managed it so she can definitely do it. Hell's teeth, she's had five kids, losing a bit of weight isn't going to cause any problems!!! Apparently Andrea the Consultant kept telling mum (and the other newbies) to listen to what I told her because I'm doing so well. How embarrassing!!! I wish Mum hadn't told me, I'm not a fan of all this attention.
I'm so excited I really don't have the brain to type any more. Let's see The Llama Cannonball in action for the big finale to end this very exciting and hysterical blog!!
.............
.....................................
...................................................................................
*wince*
Ricardo, you really ought to check that you're not firing that thing off anywhere near a wall....
*sigh* We're a llama down, ladies and gentlemen, but don't worry, it isn't fatal - he just needs a good rest and he'll be right as rain soon.
Join me next week, when hopefully I'll have calmed down slightly, and I'll give you an update on Miguel's progress. Hooves crossed he's well on the mend by then!!
To mark the glorious occasion, they've decided on a very spectacular stunt. Miguel has bravely offered to be a llama cannonball!! Ricardo has designed a lovely red sparkly cape for the occasion. It'll be the finale sequence to the fiesta and I'm sure it'll be a breathtaking sight!
The first reason I'm celebrating is, after a week off and not really following the diet strictly at all - it turns out I've lost a whopping FOUR POUNDS!!! I'm now just 1 1/2 lbs off having lost 3 1/2 stone!! For those still keeping track, I've lost 47 1/2 lbs in 23 weeks. Which is still quite good going.
*AAARRRRIIIIBBAAAAAA!!!!!!*
The second reason for celebration is that I have actually managed to get tickets to see Michael Nesmith - after a very dramatic turn of events this morning. It nearly didn't happen at all - but eventually I got two seats. They're back row, I grant you, and when I had the possibilty of seats in the third row at first, it does sting somwhat, but there are only 12 rows in total, the venue only seats 460, and I think the hall is laid out in such a way that there's really no such thing as a bad seat. I mightn't get to see every whisker on his face but I'll certainly know it's the right fella.
WOOOOOOOHHHHOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
*dances round like a mad eejit*
133 sleeps, apparently. According to my calculations, there were 136 but I'm reliably informed there are only 133. This is very exciting news. I just hope by then I'll be as close as possible to my target size. I've got four and a half months to lose three dress sizes. I think I can do it. I hope so. Even two would be great!!
Anyway, back to Slimming World. My mum joined last night!! This is great news. Partly because I get in next week free for introducing someone. I really hope she makes a good job of it. She only wants to lose the same amount I've already lost. And I've managed it so she can definitely do it. Hell's teeth, she's had five kids, losing a bit of weight isn't going to cause any problems!!! Apparently Andrea the Consultant kept telling mum (and the other newbies) to listen to what I told her because I'm doing so well. How embarrassing!!! I wish Mum hadn't told me, I'm not a fan of all this attention.
I'm so excited I really don't have the brain to type any more. Let's see The Llama Cannonball in action for the big finale to end this very exciting and hysterical blog!!
.............
.....................................
...................................................................................
*wince*
Ricardo, you really ought to check that you're not firing that thing off anywhere near a wall....
*sigh* We're a llama down, ladies and gentlemen, but don't worry, it isn't fatal - he just needs a good rest and he'll be right as rain soon.
Join me next week, when hopefully I'll have calmed down slightly, and I'll give you an update on Miguel's progress. Hooves crossed he's well on the mend by then!!
Monday, 11 June 2012
Harmony Constant
I don't think this will really get it out of my system, but here it is anyway:
29 OCTOBER!! SOMEWHERE IN MANCHESTER!!! ROBERT MICHAEL NESMITH!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I found out the news via Milton Keynes' finest export first thing this morning. Normally I'm a miserable old sod of a morning. I don't do conversation, I don't do eye contact and I certainly cannot smile before at least my second coffee. But this morning was different. The overcast drizzly British summertime morning seemed bright and breezy. A song filled my heart, my eyes brightened, the smile on my face spread from ear to ear.
Needless to say, the first thing I did when I arrived in work was book the time off. It's happening. It's finally happening. Me. Nesmith. Same airspace. In the words of Dusty Springfield - I just don't know what to do with myself. I'm so excited it's beyond ridiculous. I'm already trying to decide what to wear and realising that I might just be at my target size by October and I don't know how well I can cope with the dual excitement of Nesmith AND skinniness...
I need to link my excitement over the forthcoming Nesmith gig to a recant of my adventures at the weekend. And I can't do that in a particularly smooth manner. So... er... I won't.
I went to see Westlife on Saturday with my pal Sue. She's a huge fan and was so upset that they'd announced they were splitting up before she'd had chance to see them live in concert that she thought 'to hell with it' and ordered two tickets, she didn't care where they were. They weren't together, but they were on the same row - and I, in an unselfish act of kindness *removes tongue from cheek*, agreed to go with her to save her husband the trauma of spending the evening in a room with 16,000 screaming women. Which is understandable.
They were actually very good. Of course, I've liked them since they won the Smash Hits! Pollwinners Best New Act as Westside in 1998, and I used to be absolutely mad about them until around about their third album when I just became far too 60s for anything modern at all. It also sort of coincided with the time they started to be marketed as a sort of Housewives' Choice act and, well, I'm not a housewife so I suppose I'm not the target audience any more. I went to see them on their first arena tour back in 1999 (I think), when they were just another boy band as the boy band trend was dying out - and 90% of the audience was made up of 13 year old girls, and they were pretty good then, but naturally, over the years they've just gone from strength to strength and are genuinely a very good live act. Vocally they're all absolutely spot on and their crowd interaction was brilliant.
Everyone had a good night. It was pretty emotional for them, it was their last gig as a group in Manchester. I suppose it must be a bit weird if you've been doing the same job since you were 18/19 and then you get to 32 and decide it's time for a change - this tour is sort of them working their notice period. Must be really bizarre for them.
They did, however, at one point do a cover of 'Don't Cha' by The Pussycat Dolls. I think the phrase "least said, soonest mended" would apply here. I don't think the reaction they were after was hysterical laughter, and I'm not proud of myself for it, but it was hilarious in all the wrong ways. Just... no. Really. Just. No. Someone will have put it on YouTube by now, and I'd recommend you take a look just for the comedy factor. Which I have a feeling wasn't quite intentional.
All in all, though, it was a great night, they did very well. It's strange that it's all over. It's like they were the last of the great boy bands of the 90s (anyone who is of the mindset 'there were no great boy bands of the 90s' is simply wrong - the 90s were the decade of the boy band, it's like saying there were no great beat groups of the 60s!!). There's quite a large chapter of my teenage years that's been closed by their breakup. I'm not sad or upset or anything, it's just a bit sort of... strange. Still. Onwards and upwards. They'll probably get back together for a reunion tour in five years anyway!!
I have no news on the weight loss front. I'm pretty much back on it now - I discovered yesterday that I'm drinking far too much diet coke and it's made me a bit poorly, so I've quit that. Herbal teas and water all the way it is, then. Serves me right, of course. If I'd only been sensible in my eating and drinking habits in the first place I wouldn't be in this situation now. Still, if I didn't need to lose weight, I wouldn't have started this blog and what would you have to while 10-15 minutes of your day away with?! Exactly. You're welcome!!
Join me again on Wednesday when I might've calmed down slightly from the Most Awesome News Ever In My Life. But don't count on it...!
29 OCTOBER!! SOMEWHERE IN MANCHESTER!!! ROBERT MICHAEL NESMITH!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I found out the news via Milton Keynes' finest export first thing this morning. Normally I'm a miserable old sod of a morning. I don't do conversation, I don't do eye contact and I certainly cannot smile before at least my second coffee. But this morning was different. The overcast drizzly British summertime morning seemed bright and breezy. A song filled my heart, my eyes brightened, the smile on my face spread from ear to ear.
Needless to say, the first thing I did when I arrived in work was book the time off. It's happening. It's finally happening. Me. Nesmith. Same airspace. In the words of Dusty Springfield - I just don't know what to do with myself. I'm so excited it's beyond ridiculous. I'm already trying to decide what to wear and realising that I might just be at my target size by October and I don't know how well I can cope with the dual excitement of Nesmith AND skinniness...
I need to link my excitement over the forthcoming Nesmith gig to a recant of my adventures at the weekend. And I can't do that in a particularly smooth manner. So... er... I won't.
I went to see Westlife on Saturday with my pal Sue. She's a huge fan and was so upset that they'd announced they were splitting up before she'd had chance to see them live in concert that she thought 'to hell with it' and ordered two tickets, she didn't care where they were. They weren't together, but they were on the same row - and I, in an unselfish act of kindness *removes tongue from cheek*, agreed to go with her to save her husband the trauma of spending the evening in a room with 16,000 screaming women. Which is understandable.
They were actually very good. Of course, I've liked them since they won the Smash Hits! Pollwinners Best New Act as Westside in 1998, and I used to be absolutely mad about them until around about their third album when I just became far too 60s for anything modern at all. It also sort of coincided with the time they started to be marketed as a sort of Housewives' Choice act and, well, I'm not a housewife so I suppose I'm not the target audience any more. I went to see them on their first arena tour back in 1999 (I think), when they were just another boy band as the boy band trend was dying out - and 90% of the audience was made up of 13 year old girls, and they were pretty good then, but naturally, over the years they've just gone from strength to strength and are genuinely a very good live act. Vocally they're all absolutely spot on and their crowd interaction was brilliant.
Everyone had a good night. It was pretty emotional for them, it was their last gig as a group in Manchester. I suppose it must be a bit weird if you've been doing the same job since you were 18/19 and then you get to 32 and decide it's time for a change - this tour is sort of them working their notice period. Must be really bizarre for them.
They did, however, at one point do a cover of 'Don't Cha' by The Pussycat Dolls. I think the phrase "least said, soonest mended" would apply here. I don't think the reaction they were after was hysterical laughter, and I'm not proud of myself for it, but it was hilarious in all the wrong ways. Just... no. Really. Just. No. Someone will have put it on YouTube by now, and I'd recommend you take a look just for the comedy factor. Which I have a feeling wasn't quite intentional.
All in all, though, it was a great night, they did very well. It's strange that it's all over. It's like they were the last of the great boy bands of the 90s (anyone who is of the mindset 'there were no great boy bands of the 90s' is simply wrong - the 90s were the decade of the boy band, it's like saying there were no great beat groups of the 60s!!). There's quite a large chapter of my teenage years that's been closed by their breakup. I'm not sad or upset or anything, it's just a bit sort of... strange. Still. Onwards and upwards. They'll probably get back together for a reunion tour in five years anyway!!
I have no news on the weight loss front. I'm pretty much back on it now - I discovered yesterday that I'm drinking far too much diet coke and it's made me a bit poorly, so I've quit that. Herbal teas and water all the way it is, then. Serves me right, of course. If I'd only been sensible in my eating and drinking habits in the first place I wouldn't be in this situation now. Still, if I didn't need to lose weight, I wouldn't have started this blog and what would you have to while 10-15 minutes of your day away with?! Exactly. You're welcome!!
Join me again on Wednesday when I might've calmed down slightly from the Most Awesome News Ever In My Life. But don't count on it...!
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!!
Friday, 1 June 2012
Land of Confusion
Ah, it's Friday! It means most of us in dear old Blighty will be looking forward to four whole days off work - with pay! However, it turns out I've got to work tomorrow, so I'll have three whole days off work, which is almost as good. And the weather has sorted itself out just in time for an epic bank holiday. Yes, that's right - gone are the sizzling tropical temperatures, the humid air, the old men traipsing round town just wearing a little pair of shorts and socks with sandals (why oh why?!) and the threat of a nice barbecue in the back garden. The air has regained the usual summertime nippiness we're used to, the skies are a sort of charcoal grey colour and the weather has been, as they call it in Spain (Joanna reliably tells me this, and she's very good at Spanish, so she should know) "El Pissi Downio". Ah, yes. British Summertime. It's back, and I love it.
So, things are going very well. I'd like to thank Anonymous for their lovely and very encouraging comment from Wednesday's blog. It turns out that my block lifted quite substantially after that lovely advice and some equally kind and helpful tips from Mr L. Although I've still not really got a plot together yet, I have indeed made a start on the Western (tentatively entitled The Western With No Name). Turns out it had no intention of ever being a book, it wanted to be a screenplay all along. Which in some ways is slightly easier, I'm much better with dialogue than narrative, but even though you only really need minimal narrative for a screenplay I still don't think I have enough. But I'll come back to it later when I've figured out more of a structure to the story. My biggest problem is that I want it to be instantly perfect, rather than just acknowledging that the first three or four rewrites are going to be ropey at best before I get it close to being right and writing it anyway. I bet Joss Whedon didn't write The Avengers perfectly on his first run-through!!
I know what you're thinking. 'She's avoiding the weight-loss topic'. Well, yes. I am.
I put half a pound on. I have no idea how. I was doing really well, I'd been dead good, I hadn't cheated (there's no point in cheating because the only person who suffers is me) - I was at least hoping for a couple of pounds' loss. Maybe even three. But putting half a pound on?! What the -?!?!!
Baffled. Stumped. Bamboozled. Flabbergasted. Discombobulated. Narked. All appropriate adjectives to describe my reaction to the number on the scales yesterday.
Enrique was quite relieved I'd put weight on. He's still convinced he has athlete's hoof from when I sent them swimming last Friday and has taken to his bed with bandages from hoof to fetlock on all four of his little legs. The rest of the llamas were delighted to have another week off and have all gone on a coach holiday to Blackpool for the weekend. If you're in the Blackpool area and come across a collective of llamas in gold lamee leg warmers, go and join them, they're a great bunch of lads!!
I mean, things aren't all bad news. I'm getting smaller. If I'm honest with myself about my original starting size (i.e. Beyond Huge. If there was a dress size that could be renamed "AY CHIHUAHA!!" that'd probably be where I was!), I've actually lost three dress sizes already and I'm probably only another stone away from hitting the fourth. So actually I've not done at all badly. It's just one of those things. Maybe it was just the way I held my gob when I stood on the scales. Who knows. I'm lots thinner than I was, and that's a fact. I just need to be... you know. Thinner than this. And I will be. This time in three months I might've lost another two sizes and then I'll be very nearly almost there.
You know what it'll involve, of course. I've been threatening it and then putting it off since January, but I am actually going to have to... I can't even bring myself to say it. You know, though. And I know. It's got to be done, there's truly nothing else for it. I have plans and extremely good intentions, I just have no willpower!! I hate running, walking round an industrial estate is no fun, and I'm just not disciplined enough to attempt any form of E***cise at home!! Gah!! That blasted E word. Why is it never fun?! If I could do the E word and not notice I was doing it, that'd be brilliant!
Ho hum.
Join me next Wednesday, if you don't mind. I'll be taking Monday off due to the Bank Holiday and I'll probably still be in a very dark state of depression following my birthday on Sunday. I get SO depressed on my birthday, there's literally no point in even acknowledging my existence, you'll only end up similarly suicidal! I don't want to be old! Don't make me!! Nooooo!!! PETER PAN NEVER HAD TO DO IT!!!
I dread to even think how I'll cope next year when I hit the big Three-Oh...!! *shudder*
So, things are going very well. I'd like to thank Anonymous for their lovely and very encouraging comment from Wednesday's blog. It turns out that my block lifted quite substantially after that lovely advice and some equally kind and helpful tips from Mr L. Although I've still not really got a plot together yet, I have indeed made a start on the Western (tentatively entitled The Western With No Name). Turns out it had no intention of ever being a book, it wanted to be a screenplay all along. Which in some ways is slightly easier, I'm much better with dialogue than narrative, but even though you only really need minimal narrative for a screenplay I still don't think I have enough. But I'll come back to it later when I've figured out more of a structure to the story. My biggest problem is that I want it to be instantly perfect, rather than just acknowledging that the first three or four rewrites are going to be ropey at best before I get it close to being right and writing it anyway. I bet Joss Whedon didn't write The Avengers perfectly on his first run-through!!
I know what you're thinking. 'She's avoiding the weight-loss topic'. Well, yes. I am.
I put half a pound on. I have no idea how. I was doing really well, I'd been dead good, I hadn't cheated (there's no point in cheating because the only person who suffers is me) - I was at least hoping for a couple of pounds' loss. Maybe even three. But putting half a pound on?! What the -?!?!!
Baffled. Stumped. Bamboozled. Flabbergasted. Discombobulated. Narked. All appropriate adjectives to describe my reaction to the number on the scales yesterday.
Enrique was quite relieved I'd put weight on. He's still convinced he has athlete's hoof from when I sent them swimming last Friday and has taken to his bed with bandages from hoof to fetlock on all four of his little legs. The rest of the llamas were delighted to have another week off and have all gone on a coach holiday to Blackpool for the weekend. If you're in the Blackpool area and come across a collective of llamas in gold lamee leg warmers, go and join them, they're a great bunch of lads!!
I mean, things aren't all bad news. I'm getting smaller. If I'm honest with myself about my original starting size (i.e. Beyond Huge. If there was a dress size that could be renamed "AY CHIHUAHA!!" that'd probably be where I was!), I've actually lost three dress sizes already and I'm probably only another stone away from hitting the fourth. So actually I've not done at all badly. It's just one of those things. Maybe it was just the way I held my gob when I stood on the scales. Who knows. I'm lots thinner than I was, and that's a fact. I just need to be... you know. Thinner than this. And I will be. This time in three months I might've lost another two sizes and then I'll be very nearly almost there.
You know what it'll involve, of course. I've been threatening it and then putting it off since January, but I am actually going to have to... I can't even bring myself to say it. You know, though. And I know. It's got to be done, there's truly nothing else for it. I have plans and extremely good intentions, I just have no willpower!! I hate running, walking round an industrial estate is no fun, and I'm just not disciplined enough to attempt any form of E***cise at home!! Gah!! That blasted E word. Why is it never fun?! If I could do the E word and not notice I was doing it, that'd be brilliant!
Ho hum.
Join me next Wednesday, if you don't mind. I'll be taking Monday off due to the Bank Holiday and I'll probably still be in a very dark state of depression following my birthday on Sunday. I get SO depressed on my birthday, there's literally no point in even acknowledging my existence, you'll only end up similarly suicidal! I don't want to be old! Don't make me!! Nooooo!!! PETER PAN NEVER HAD TO DO IT!!!
I dread to even think how I'll cope next year when I hit the big Three-Oh...!! *shudder*
Monday, 28 May 2012
We're Havin' A Heatwave...
...a tropical heatwaaaave... the temperature's risin', it isn't surprisin', I certainly caaaannn...
Ahem.
Sorry. But this weather's making everything seem a bit weird. Good GRIEF it's warm. I mean, 28 degrees Celsius before noon is just ridiculous. And no, I have no idea what that is in Farenheit!!
I'm sorry for my lack of postings. It's been one of those weeks. It's been too hot for anything and my brain really doesn't function too well in hot weather. I am, after all, English. I'm not used to May being hot. It isn't meant to get hot until mid-June for about five days, then constant rain until mid-July, then miserable but hot weather with no air for three or four weeks, then more rain... then a sort of picking up again in September, before a rather nippy Autumn and a bloomin' freezing winter. This is how Britain works, weather! Get it right!!
So, anyway, weather aside, I got a little closer to my halfway mark this week by losing 2lbs. This was a lovely result and I was really pleased with it, but due to the weather it would've simply been cruel of me to ask the llamas to put on a fiesta in celebration. So I sent them to the local swimming pool armed with armbands, goggles and matching towels for a bit of a frolic and a cool down. Enrique convinced himself that he came back home with verrucas and athletes hoof, but after a (very brief) examination his hooves all seem fine. Ricardo made friends with the lifeguard on duty who had never heard of a dancing troupe of llamas before. Miguel discovered aqua-aerobics. Everyone had a lovely time. I stayed in (I can't swim and nobody will ever see me in a swimming costume, ever, not even when I get to a size 14! Just because I'm not fat still doesn't mean anyone wants to see any more of me than is absolutely necessary and unavoidable!) and had a celebratory brandy or two. It might've even ben three. Yes, I think it was. So, everyone really was happy!
I probably won't hit my halfway target by this Thursday, but that's no big deal really. It's officially too hot to care about stuff like that! I should get closer to it, though, and that's the main thing.
I wore a dress on Sunday. I admit it probably wasn't the most fashionable thing out there, but the main thing was it wasn't that godawful black maxi dress I'd worn for months when I had need to wear a dress. It was my mum's, and before you start rolling your eyes, I'd coveted it for quite some time, it's really nice. I tell you a really weird thing that I may never get used to. I actually felt really feminine. I mean I know I'm a girl (the bosoms are quite a giveaway), but being of the larger persuasion the only clothes really available to a person are ones that just cover you and make you look as unobtrusive as possible. In short, clothes have never made me feel anything other than a sexless blob of nothingness. But on Sunday I looked in the mirror and even though I probably still looked a fat scruffbag, I actually felt like a woman for the first time actually ever. With curves, as opposed to being one continual curve. It's a really peculiar feeling, but I liked it. Probably one I'll never get used to, but it's really helped me to feel even more focussed than ever about getting to the goal. It's totally going to happen. This time next year during an unprecedented heatwave I might even have summer clothes in my wardrobe to go to!! Who knows!!!
Join me again on... well, I'd say Wednesday. Hopefully Wednesday, but certainly later on in the week. Dunno what I'll talk about but I'll always find SOMEthing to ramble about!!
Ahem.
Sorry. But this weather's making everything seem a bit weird. Good GRIEF it's warm. I mean, 28 degrees Celsius before noon is just ridiculous. And no, I have no idea what that is in Farenheit!!
I'm sorry for my lack of postings. It's been one of those weeks. It's been too hot for anything and my brain really doesn't function too well in hot weather. I am, after all, English. I'm not used to May being hot. It isn't meant to get hot until mid-June for about five days, then constant rain until mid-July, then miserable but hot weather with no air for three or four weeks, then more rain... then a sort of picking up again in September, before a rather nippy Autumn and a bloomin' freezing winter. This is how Britain works, weather! Get it right!!
So, anyway, weather aside, I got a little closer to my halfway mark this week by losing 2lbs. This was a lovely result and I was really pleased with it, but due to the weather it would've simply been cruel of me to ask the llamas to put on a fiesta in celebration. So I sent them to the local swimming pool armed with armbands, goggles and matching towels for a bit of a frolic and a cool down. Enrique convinced himself that he came back home with verrucas and athletes hoof, but after a (very brief) examination his hooves all seem fine. Ricardo made friends with the lifeguard on duty who had never heard of a dancing troupe of llamas before. Miguel discovered aqua-aerobics. Everyone had a lovely time. I stayed in (I can't swim and nobody will ever see me in a swimming costume, ever, not even when I get to a size 14! Just because I'm not fat still doesn't mean anyone wants to see any more of me than is absolutely necessary and unavoidable!) and had a celebratory brandy or two. It might've even ben three. Yes, I think it was. So, everyone really was happy!
I probably won't hit my halfway target by this Thursday, but that's no big deal really. It's officially too hot to care about stuff like that! I should get closer to it, though, and that's the main thing.
I wore a dress on Sunday. I admit it probably wasn't the most fashionable thing out there, but the main thing was it wasn't that godawful black maxi dress I'd worn for months when I had need to wear a dress. It was my mum's, and before you start rolling your eyes, I'd coveted it for quite some time, it's really nice. I tell you a really weird thing that I may never get used to. I actually felt really feminine. I mean I know I'm a girl (the bosoms are quite a giveaway), but being of the larger persuasion the only clothes really available to a person are ones that just cover you and make you look as unobtrusive as possible. In short, clothes have never made me feel anything other than a sexless blob of nothingness. But on Sunday I looked in the mirror and even though I probably still looked a fat scruffbag, I actually felt like a woman for the first time actually ever. With curves, as opposed to being one continual curve. It's a really peculiar feeling, but I liked it. Probably one I'll never get used to, but it's really helped me to feel even more focussed than ever about getting to the goal. It's totally going to happen. This time next year during an unprecedented heatwave I might even have summer clothes in my wardrobe to go to!! Who knows!!!
Join me again on... well, I'd say Wednesday. Hopefully Wednesday, but certainly later on in the week. Dunno what I'll talk about but I'll always find SOMEthing to ramble about!!
Friday, 18 May 2012
Wham, Bam, Thank You, Scales!
All right, all right, I've calmed down, I've stopped whooping and cartwheeling around the living room long enough to write my Friday blog.
That's right. I have good news. Great news. That 3 1/2 lbs that was doing my head in? GONE!! BAM!!! 3 stone (that's 42lbs to my American readers and 19kgs to my...er... metric readers) in 19 weeks, that's quite good going, isn't it?
In celebration, Enrique has put together The Three Stone Fiesta. Floats, bunting, ticker-tape, sombreros, maracas, even the odd castanet. In the words of the late, great Eddie Cochrane - WOOOOO!!!! C'MON EV'RYBODYYY!!!!!!
Whoo!! Enrique, you've surpassed yourself this time, little fella!!! What a celebration!!
Right. So. This is it. 3 stone down, 4 to go. There's a very small possibility that I might still get to the halfway mark by my birthday, I've lost 7lbs in two weeks a few times so I know I can do it. I just need to try extra hard and maybe try other things like finally incorporating a bit more exercise into my daily regime and drinking water... I seem to have developed quite an addiction to Coke Zero/Pepsi Max/whatever's on offer in Morrisons at the time of purchase. No, really. Well, I've almost totally given up booze and chocolate, I haven't had pizza or crisps all year and frankly there's little left in life that's classed as being 'a bit naughty' that I can get away with having these days!!
Gah! Skinny, old and boring. Three things I thought I'd never be!
I'm so chuffed. I worked so hard to get these last few pounds boxed off, and I've done it. I've still got a really really long way to go, but it feels far more achievable now. I will get there. There's a story on the Slimming World website and in this month's Slimming World magazine about a fella about a year older than me who's lost 17 1/2 stone (245 lbs/111.13kg) in just over two years. He looks like a completely different person. I mean, blimey. I know 7 stone is a lot and roughly the size of a skinny full grown adult, but 17 1/2 stone - that's some people's starting weight when they join Slimming World!! That must've seemed like an impossible mountain to climb - and now he goes out climbing real mountains for fun!! It's incredible how much a silly thing like losing weight will change your life completely. I mean I know I've still got a huge way to go but I really feel as though this time I'll do it and that my life will change. I'll start doing things I've never done, I'll stop being afraid of trying anything new and I'll actually start walking down the road with my head up rather than hunched up, worrying about tripping over my own feet or being laughed at and heckled by vile people who felt the need to point my weight problem out to me in case I hadn't already noticed it. Seriously. It'll be all change. I just hope I'm ready for it...!!
Join me again on Monday when I'll probably not have much to report from the weekend, but I'll be looking towards a lovely family reunion under very sad circumstances and trying to stay strong in the hopes of getting closer to the 3 1/2 stone mark next Thursday night!! Have a lovely weekend, whatever you'e up to!
That's right. I have good news. Great news. That 3 1/2 lbs that was doing my head in? GONE!! BAM!!! 3 stone (that's 42lbs to my American readers and 19kgs to my...er... metric readers) in 19 weeks, that's quite good going, isn't it?
In celebration, Enrique has put together The Three Stone Fiesta. Floats, bunting, ticker-tape, sombreros, maracas, even the odd castanet. In the words of the late, great Eddie Cochrane - WOOOOO!!!! C'MON EV'RYBODYYY!!!!!!
Whoo!! Enrique, you've surpassed yourself this time, little fella!!! What a celebration!!
Right. So. This is it. 3 stone down, 4 to go. There's a very small possibility that I might still get to the halfway mark by my birthday, I've lost 7lbs in two weeks a few times so I know I can do it. I just need to try extra hard and maybe try other things like finally incorporating a bit more exercise into my daily regime and drinking water... I seem to have developed quite an addiction to Coke Zero/Pepsi Max/whatever's on offer in Morrisons at the time of purchase. No, really. Well, I've almost totally given up booze and chocolate, I haven't had pizza or crisps all year and frankly there's little left in life that's classed as being 'a bit naughty' that I can get away with having these days!!
Gah! Skinny, old and boring. Three things I thought I'd never be!
I'm so chuffed. I worked so hard to get these last few pounds boxed off, and I've done it. I've still got a really really long way to go, but it feels far more achievable now. I will get there. There's a story on the Slimming World website and in this month's Slimming World magazine about a fella about a year older than me who's lost 17 1/2 stone (245 lbs/111.13kg) in just over two years. He looks like a completely different person. I mean, blimey. I know 7 stone is a lot and roughly the size of a skinny full grown adult, but 17 1/2 stone - that's some people's starting weight when they join Slimming World!! That must've seemed like an impossible mountain to climb - and now he goes out climbing real mountains for fun!! It's incredible how much a silly thing like losing weight will change your life completely. I mean I know I've still got a huge way to go but I really feel as though this time I'll do it and that my life will change. I'll start doing things I've never done, I'll stop being afraid of trying anything new and I'll actually start walking down the road with my head up rather than hunched up, worrying about tripping over my own feet or being laughed at and heckled by vile people who felt the need to point my weight problem out to me in case I hadn't already noticed it. Seriously. It'll be all change. I just hope I'm ready for it...!!
Join me again on Monday when I'll probably not have much to report from the weekend, but I'll be looking towards a lovely family reunion under very sad circumstances and trying to stay strong in the hopes of getting closer to the 3 1/2 stone mark next Thursday night!! Have a lovely weekend, whatever you'e up to!
Friday, 4 May 2012
Dazed and Confused
I knew I'd end up a confused mess last night. I knew it.
The llamas came home, Enrique set about making sure everyone else was unpacked and after they'd all had a long hot soak in a bubble bath I helped Miguel tie his new neckerchief and put on his new sunglasses. He's a fashion conscious llama but his lack of opposable thumbs does cause him a few problems in the execution of donning and fixing certain items of clothing.
I left them tucking into a lovely tea and told Ricardo I'd give them a call on the Llama Line when I'd been weighed.
I went in, was told by the lady on the front desk that everyone seems a lot happier this week and that the scales seem to have righted themselves. So I paid my fiver, toddled off to the weigh-in point and hopped on the scales.
Normally, I would have been delighted and doing a little jig of ecstasy over the fact the scales said I was 3 1/2 lbs lighter... but I was just confused.
I mean... What does that even mean?!!? Does it mean I've lost 3 1/2 lbs? Does it mean that I've lost 1/2 lb?? Does it mean that I've basically just maintained weight for two weeks and everything's back to normal? I mean... seriously - what happened?!?!
Llamas are a very intelligent bunch but, they're also very inquisitive - so if I'd explained the whole saga of the scales to them, they'd've asked me some very complicated mathematical questions that I couldn't answer. I decided, for the sake of brevity, to just tell them that I'd lost 3 1/2 lbs, and so Enrique, invigorated by his week in the sun and hour-long soak in a mint and jasmine bubble bath, quickly got to work on choreographing the llamas' latest dance routine.
Hit it, fellas!! *whips out maracas and dons Carmen Miranda style hat before shimmying around like a loony*
Whewf!!! I've really got to stop moving like that, it plays havoc with my pineapples...
So... I think I've lost weight. Sort of. Maybe. Possibly. I really don't know. I mean, according to those scales I'm 3 1/2 lbs lighter than I was this time last week. So that should make me very happy. But then I know I hadn't put 3lbs on last week. But maybe I had, I mean a person's body does crazy things at crazy times, maybe it was an unwittingly held-in tinkle or something. But then what if it wasn't and these new scales are just dodgy?
I really don't know what to think. It's a mystery to the likes of me.
Still, maybe these new ones are more accurate. After all, I'm definitely starting to see some changes in me, my shoulders are pretty skinny now and I've even noticed my legs are getting a bit slimmer at long last. I'd spent a few weeks not seeing any change at all and worrying that losing 7 stone wasn't going to be enough and I'd almost decided to put my target back by another stone, but I don't think I need to do that now. I've got 10lbs to lose before I get to the half-way mark, and I suppose it'll be easier to judge from then, but I don't think I'll need to lose more than 7 stone. Hope not anyway, the first three are turning into an epic melodrama!!
It's my birthday in a month's time (well, a month yesterday, to be precise) and I'm hoping to have lost the requisite 10lbs to get myself to the half-way mark by then. If I lose more then great, but because it's pretty much slap-bang in the middle of the year I think it's as good a target date to set as any. It might take the edge off the inevitable depression associated with entering into the last year of my 20s. This is it. Goodbye, youth! But at least I'll be old and skinny... Not too skinny though. Fat plumps out the wrinkles. Fact.
Join me again next week sometime when I'll hopefully have some news of something. You may think I'm sounding coy and mysterious but to be honest there's really nothing else doing in SpevLand at the moment, I'm just waiting for something exciting to happen so I can report back on it!!!
The llamas came home, Enrique set about making sure everyone else was unpacked and after they'd all had a long hot soak in a bubble bath I helped Miguel tie his new neckerchief and put on his new sunglasses. He's a fashion conscious llama but his lack of opposable thumbs does cause him a few problems in the execution of donning and fixing certain items of clothing.
I left them tucking into a lovely tea and told Ricardo I'd give them a call on the Llama Line when I'd been weighed.
I went in, was told by the lady on the front desk that everyone seems a lot happier this week and that the scales seem to have righted themselves. So I paid my fiver, toddled off to the weigh-in point and hopped on the scales.
Normally, I would have been delighted and doing a little jig of ecstasy over the fact the scales said I was 3 1/2 lbs lighter... but I was just confused.
I mean... What does that even mean?!!? Does it mean I've lost 3 1/2 lbs? Does it mean that I've lost 1/2 lb?? Does it mean that I've basically just maintained weight for two weeks and everything's back to normal? I mean... seriously - what happened?!?!
Llamas are a very intelligent bunch but, they're also very inquisitive - so if I'd explained the whole saga of the scales to them, they'd've asked me some very complicated mathematical questions that I couldn't answer. I decided, for the sake of brevity, to just tell them that I'd lost 3 1/2 lbs, and so Enrique, invigorated by his week in the sun and hour-long soak in a mint and jasmine bubble bath, quickly got to work on choreographing the llamas' latest dance routine.
Hit it, fellas!! *whips out maracas and dons Carmen Miranda style hat before shimmying around like a loony*
Whewf!!! I've really got to stop moving like that, it plays havoc with my pineapples...
So... I think I've lost weight. Sort of. Maybe. Possibly. I really don't know. I mean, according to those scales I'm 3 1/2 lbs lighter than I was this time last week. So that should make me very happy. But then I know I hadn't put 3lbs on last week. But maybe I had, I mean a person's body does crazy things at crazy times, maybe it was an unwittingly held-in tinkle or something. But then what if it wasn't and these new scales are just dodgy?
I really don't know what to think. It's a mystery to the likes of me.
Still, maybe these new ones are more accurate. After all, I'm definitely starting to see some changes in me, my shoulders are pretty skinny now and I've even noticed my legs are getting a bit slimmer at long last. I'd spent a few weeks not seeing any change at all and worrying that losing 7 stone wasn't going to be enough and I'd almost decided to put my target back by another stone, but I don't think I need to do that now. I've got 10lbs to lose before I get to the half-way mark, and I suppose it'll be easier to judge from then, but I don't think I'll need to lose more than 7 stone. Hope not anyway, the first three are turning into an epic melodrama!!
It's my birthday in a month's time (well, a month yesterday, to be precise) and I'm hoping to have lost the requisite 10lbs to get myself to the half-way mark by then. If I lose more then great, but because it's pretty much slap-bang in the middle of the year I think it's as good a target date to set as any. It might take the edge off the inevitable depression associated with entering into the last year of my 20s. This is it. Goodbye, youth! But at least I'll be old and skinny... Not too skinny though. Fat plumps out the wrinkles. Fact.
Join me again next week sometime when I'll hopefully have some news of something. You may think I'm sounding coy and mysterious but to be honest there's really nothing else doing in SpevLand at the moment, I'm just waiting for something exciting to happen so I can report back on it!!!
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, 20 April 2012
Turned Out Nice Again
So. It's all been a bit boring this week, as previously documented. I've still not overeaten. I still can't really be bothered having any treats. Nothing exciting has happened.
I went to Fat Club last night all full of the joys of winter, hunching my shoulders and generally looking and feeling a bit miserable. I didn't feel any thinner, and Bridget the star slimmer (9lbs last week, two stone in two weeks last month. The woman's a lean, mean slimming machine. And she's hilarious!) only lost 1lb. Things weren't really looking good. All I wanted was to lose 1 1/2lbs to get me to the 2 1/2 stone mark, but I felt increasingly conscious that it probably wouldn't happen.
So, imagine my confusion, if you will, when I stepped on the scales and discovered I'd lost a whopping FIVE POUNDS!!!
Shocked? I had to read it six or seven times and then get the lady at the scales to read it for me and to help me out with the maths!!!
Enrique has been up all night working on the llamas' celebratory dance, so without further ado... HIT IT, CHAPS!!!
*dances round the room like a mad eejit, Ted*
So, yes, I got my 2 1/2 stone certificate and (most importantly) shiny sticker. I'm now 3 1/2 lbs away from my 3 stone certificate and shiny sticker. However, last night, for the first time, I also got a Slimmer of the Week certificate and shiny sticker, and a huge bag full of free food for the week. Very exciting. I don't know if it's standard practice in all Slimming World groups, but in our group everyone takes an item of free food (fruit, veg, a packet of super noodles etc) and puts it into a basket and whoever gets Slimmer of the Week takes home the contents of the basket. I'm rubbish because I always forget. I have a terrible memory at the best of times and it's all I can do to remember my book, my member card and my fee!!
I will soon be able to wallpaper my bedroom with my certificates. In fact, eventually, I might just do that in a sort of 'You've done this and it was hard work but you did it and you are NOT going back!' reminder type capacity.
Andrea the Consultant also had reason to celebrate, as she is now officially the top consultant in the North West, beating the Walton-le-Dale group both by the size of the group and the success rate of the club members. So a huge round of applause for Andrea. She's a good egg. It's her two-year anniversary of starting her own group in three weeks, so we're going to have a party at the group in celebration. Exciting!! She asked what I'd done differently this week and I told her it was all my sister's hard work. Joanna is the world's most amazing cook and she makes the most gorgeous Syn-Free meals every night, and usually enough to take some for lunch the next day. But the thing that's changed our entire lives has been the investment in a rice-maker. We've had rice nearly every night, with all sorts of crazy stuff in. It's been amazing. She makes this prawn, chilli, ginger and garlic savoury rice dish which I could happily eat for the rest of my life. Honestly. She's amazing. If you haven't had the pleasure of a meal cooked by the big sister - you're really missing out!!
On another note, today is my last day of working in the office upstairs. My temporary boss bought me a bottle of Midnight Fantasy by Britney Spears (don't laugh. It's awesome. It smells like Skittles! It's no Just Her by Roberto Cavalli, or Black XS for Her by Paco Rabanne, I grant you, but still!!) and a lovely card to say thank you for my help over the last six months, not that I've done a great deal, to be fair, but it was really sweet of them. And they're taking me to the Clog and Billycock for lunch (hands up anyone who didn't know a billycock was a hat! *raises both hands and a leg*) - which is a Northcote restaurant in the Ribble Valley - and it would be simply rude if I went there and didn't completely obliterate my diet!!! They fry the chips in dripping! The steaks are bigger than me! They do home made ice cream... with cream!!!! I'm even going to have beer - I think they do Wainwrights there!!
So, today I will be giving myself a long-awaited day off. I've done pretty well over the last four months and I'm having a proper day off to celebrate. I'll reign it back in like mad for the rest of the week, and I did start off quite well today with a fruit salad and a few mugs of green tea - but this afternoon it will be a diet-free zone. I'm so excited!!!
I've got a rather busy weekend ahead with one thing and another, so join me again on Monday when I'll give you a bit of an update on the weekend and look forward, vaguely confidently, to a hopefully successful weigh-in on Thursday!!
I went to Fat Club last night all full of the joys of winter, hunching my shoulders and generally looking and feeling a bit miserable. I didn't feel any thinner, and Bridget the star slimmer (9lbs last week, two stone in two weeks last month. The woman's a lean, mean slimming machine. And she's hilarious!) only lost 1lb. Things weren't really looking good. All I wanted was to lose 1 1/2lbs to get me to the 2 1/2 stone mark, but I felt increasingly conscious that it probably wouldn't happen.
So, imagine my confusion, if you will, when I stepped on the scales and discovered I'd lost a whopping FIVE POUNDS!!!
Shocked? I had to read it six or seven times and then get the lady at the scales to read it for me and to help me out with the maths!!!
Enrique has been up all night working on the llamas' celebratory dance, so without further ado... HIT IT, CHAPS!!!
*dances round the room like a mad eejit, Ted*
So, yes, I got my 2 1/2 stone certificate and (most importantly) shiny sticker. I'm now 3 1/2 lbs away from my 3 stone certificate and shiny sticker. However, last night, for the first time, I also got a Slimmer of the Week certificate and shiny sticker, and a huge bag full of free food for the week. Very exciting. I don't know if it's standard practice in all Slimming World groups, but in our group everyone takes an item of free food (fruit, veg, a packet of super noodles etc) and puts it into a basket and whoever gets Slimmer of the Week takes home the contents of the basket. I'm rubbish because I always forget. I have a terrible memory at the best of times and it's all I can do to remember my book, my member card and my fee!!
I will soon be able to wallpaper my bedroom with my certificates. In fact, eventually, I might just do that in a sort of 'You've done this and it was hard work but you did it and you are NOT going back!' reminder type capacity.
Andrea the Consultant also had reason to celebrate, as she is now officially the top consultant in the North West, beating the Walton-le-Dale group both by the size of the group and the success rate of the club members. So a huge round of applause for Andrea. She's a good egg. It's her two-year anniversary of starting her own group in three weeks, so we're going to have a party at the group in celebration. Exciting!! She asked what I'd done differently this week and I told her it was all my sister's hard work. Joanna is the world's most amazing cook and she makes the most gorgeous Syn-Free meals every night, and usually enough to take some for lunch the next day. But the thing that's changed our entire lives has been the investment in a rice-maker. We've had rice nearly every night, with all sorts of crazy stuff in. It's been amazing. She makes this prawn, chilli, ginger and garlic savoury rice dish which I could happily eat for the rest of my life. Honestly. She's amazing. If you haven't had the pleasure of a meal cooked by the big sister - you're really missing out!!
On another note, today is my last day of working in the office upstairs. My temporary boss bought me a bottle of Midnight Fantasy by Britney Spears (don't laugh. It's awesome. It smells like Skittles! It's no Just Her by Roberto Cavalli, or Black XS for Her by Paco Rabanne, I grant you, but still!!) and a lovely card to say thank you for my help over the last six months, not that I've done a great deal, to be fair, but it was really sweet of them. And they're taking me to the Clog and Billycock for lunch (hands up anyone who didn't know a billycock was a hat! *raises both hands and a leg*) - which is a Northcote restaurant in the Ribble Valley - and it would be simply rude if I went there and didn't completely obliterate my diet!!! They fry the chips in dripping! The steaks are bigger than me! They do home made ice cream... with cream!!!! I'm even going to have beer - I think they do Wainwrights there!!
So, today I will be giving myself a long-awaited day off. I've done pretty well over the last four months and I'm having a proper day off to celebrate. I'll reign it back in like mad for the rest of the week, and I did start off quite well today with a fruit salad and a few mugs of green tea - but this afternoon it will be a diet-free zone. I'm so excited!!!
I've got a rather busy weekend ahead with one thing and another, so join me again on Monday when I'll give you a bit of an update on the weekend and look forward, vaguely confidently, to a hopefully successful weigh-in on Thursday!!
Friday, 13 April 2012
Slimming World Episode VI: Return of the Sausage
Well, it's been an eventful week and no mistake, hasn't it? Confusion over which day of the week it is since Tuesday, the despair of not getting through to the next stage of the Sitcom competition - fear not, Adam and I are still going to take over the comedy world, we're just debating a different route now, that's all. Then I saw McFly on Wednesday (and yes, before anyone asks, it really is all about Dougie), which was rather amazing - and last night, of course, was the highlight, as I trotted down the hill to the local Church Hall to attend another group meeting at Slimming World.
I have to say I haven't had the best week on the slimming front. Not that I've overeaten. The opposite in fact. I've inadvertently skipped quite a few meals, which I didn't do on purpose, really - and I know it isn't a good thing to do, but sometimes a human just doesn't get time to eat. Not over Easter when they only wake up at half nine in the morning, anyway... Added to that is the fact Mum and Dad are still in France and I've not had use of a car for two weeks, so I've walked everywhere. Remember that week after I'd lost 5lbs and I walked everywhere and had hardly any Syns but I only lost half a pound?? Well, this week I walked even more and ate less of everything, Syns as well as normal food.
So, imagine my surprise when I hopped on the scales and discovered I'd lost 2lbs!!
Came back home and told the llamas about it. Ricardo was very excited - he's a bit blase if I only lose a pound, and quite grumpy if I only lose half a pound - but two pounds is good. It's healthy and encouraging. So, they've got a great dance all lined up for today that you'll love.
Hit it, lads!!!
*sigh* Jitterbugging llamas in sombreros. It never gets old.
Andrea the Consultant was really pleased with me, I've only got a pound and a half to go before I can have my next shiny sticker and certificate. We all know that I'm all about the shiny stickers! Could do with a pretty big loss in the next week or so though, my line graph has set me back to reaching my goal in mid-October again, which is no good. End of September. That's the aim. My dear pal Liz (who is also going to Slimming World on Thursday nights, but she's in London) is renewing her wedding vows on September 29th and we both still have a bit of work to do to get into pretty dresses in time for the big day. But we'll do it - and that's the main thing. I've got five and a half months to lose four and a half stone. It's a big ask but not an impossible one - it still averages out at just over 2 1/2 lbs a week, which we all know is achievable. I'll get there. Eventually. So long as I keep losing it'll be fine. My worry is that reaching the target I've set won't be quite enough and I'll still have another stone to go. But I'll worry about that when I get there. I don't want to be skinny, but at the same time, this is going to be such a big life-changing thing, when I finally get there I don't want to discover I've not quite made it!
Best moment of the night was when I walked into the Church Hall and saw a sign that simply read, "Sausage Man" with an arrow pointing to the left. Mr Syn Free Sausage has returned!!!
Didn't get any (didn't get any Cumberland either - *boom boom*!). Was too busy laughing. Apparently he'll be coming to the group once a month, flaunting his wares and trying to tempt us with his stuffed peppers and meatballs. As it were. He's a champion among slimmers and possibly revered as some sort of deity in certain parts of Oswaldtwistle.
I hope Mr Syn Free Sausage knows how much publicity he's getting on this blog. Everyone in the world - almost - knows about Ye Olde Sausage Shop in Oswaldtwistle Mill!! That's right - Diary of a Fat Girl has sent him global! We should set up some sort of partnership. I can see it now:
Today's Diary of a Fat Girl was brought to you by Mr Syn Free Sausage, the letters M and Q and the number 14 (13's an unlucky number)...
Sigh.
My plans for the weekend are as yet unmade - and I sort of hope they stay that way. Mum and Dad are returning to Blighty on Sunday so it will be lovely to see them again, it's been ages. However, whatever it is that you're up to this weekend, I hope you have a fabulous time - and I'll see you all back here on Monday when I'll be looking forward to the week ahead - and trying to make sense of the next two or three years of my life without my lovely pal Helena... *sniffle*
I have to say I haven't had the best week on the slimming front. Not that I've overeaten. The opposite in fact. I've inadvertently skipped quite a few meals, which I didn't do on purpose, really - and I know it isn't a good thing to do, but sometimes a human just doesn't get time to eat. Not over Easter when they only wake up at half nine in the morning, anyway... Added to that is the fact Mum and Dad are still in France and I've not had use of a car for two weeks, so I've walked everywhere. Remember that week after I'd lost 5lbs and I walked everywhere and had hardly any Syns but I only lost half a pound?? Well, this week I walked even more and ate less of everything, Syns as well as normal food.
So, imagine my surprise when I hopped on the scales and discovered I'd lost 2lbs!!
Came back home and told the llamas about it. Ricardo was very excited - he's a bit blase if I only lose a pound, and quite grumpy if I only lose half a pound - but two pounds is good. It's healthy and encouraging. So, they've got a great dance all lined up for today that you'll love.
Hit it, lads!!!
*sigh* Jitterbugging llamas in sombreros. It never gets old.
Andrea the Consultant was really pleased with me, I've only got a pound and a half to go before I can have my next shiny sticker and certificate. We all know that I'm all about the shiny stickers! Could do with a pretty big loss in the next week or so though, my line graph has set me back to reaching my goal in mid-October again, which is no good. End of September. That's the aim. My dear pal Liz (who is also going to Slimming World on Thursday nights, but she's in London) is renewing her wedding vows on September 29th and we both still have a bit of work to do to get into pretty dresses in time for the big day. But we'll do it - and that's the main thing. I've got five and a half months to lose four and a half stone. It's a big ask but not an impossible one - it still averages out at just over 2 1/2 lbs a week, which we all know is achievable. I'll get there. Eventually. So long as I keep losing it'll be fine. My worry is that reaching the target I've set won't be quite enough and I'll still have another stone to go. But I'll worry about that when I get there. I don't want to be skinny, but at the same time, this is going to be such a big life-changing thing, when I finally get there I don't want to discover I've not quite made it!
Best moment of the night was when I walked into the Church Hall and saw a sign that simply read, "Sausage Man" with an arrow pointing to the left. Mr Syn Free Sausage has returned!!!
Didn't get any (didn't get any Cumberland either - *boom boom*!). Was too busy laughing. Apparently he'll be coming to the group once a month, flaunting his wares and trying to tempt us with his stuffed peppers and meatballs. As it were. He's a champion among slimmers and possibly revered as some sort of deity in certain parts of Oswaldtwistle.
I hope Mr Syn Free Sausage knows how much publicity he's getting on this blog. Everyone in the world - almost - knows about Ye Olde Sausage Shop in Oswaldtwistle Mill!! That's right - Diary of a Fat Girl has sent him global! We should set up some sort of partnership. I can see it now:
Today's Diary of a Fat Girl was brought to you by Mr Syn Free Sausage, the letters M and Q and the number 14 (13's an unlucky number)...
Sigh.
My plans for the weekend are as yet unmade - and I sort of hope they stay that way. Mum and Dad are returning to Blighty on Sunday so it will be lovely to see them again, it's been ages. However, whatever it is that you're up to this weekend, I hope you have a fabulous time - and I'll see you all back here on Monday when I'll be looking forward to the week ahead - and trying to make sense of the next two or three years of my life without my lovely pal Helena... *sniffle*
Monday, 2 April 2012
Brown Sugar!
*shudder*
I think I may have mentioned on Friday that the lovely Helena is moving to Australia in a couple of weeks and had the ingenious idea of a few of us attending a beer and wine festival at the weekend. It ended up just being Helena, Becky and I - but we were like the Three Musketeers, one for all and all for a grand old time!!
Well, the entrance fee was £8, and for that you got your very own glass and a £5 token to get you started on the slippery slope to forgetting your own name. So I merrily trotted over to my pals, dished out hugs all round, then scampered off to locate the ideal beverage to start my day off.
There were a few ciders named after Rolling Stones songs, including Brown Sugar and Ruby Tuesday. There was another one called Cherry Perry, which sounded very innocent indeed - but at 7.9% I must say it did have something of a kick to it. Ay chihuahua!! I think I remained in full control of my powers of speech until I'd had my fourth drink (in order to be fair to all the types of booze around there, I had decided to take the slighly controversial and, in hindsight, completely unwise cider-beer-cider-beer...cider-beer [I think, I lost count after a while] approach to my drinking) and then I have a feeling I did need to concentrate a little harder on not slurring.
A beer festival in a museum probably is the best idea ever. I would never have gone to the Commercial Vehicle Museum ever in a million years, despite it being about a 15 minute walk from the flat. But you would definitely be surprised at how interesting old vehicles are after a couple of glasses of something exciting and warming. Did you know they had an old Pope-Mobile in there from the 70s/80s? Comfiest seats ever. Seriously. And who knew that antique fire engines were so comfy?! Well. Now you all do.
After a full day's drinking, the only thing to do, it was agreed, was to go to the pub for a cheeky one. Or two. I think it might have ended up being three. Still. A lovely time was had by all and I decided to walk myself home - which was a little dangerous considering there were a couple of main roads to negotiate - I accomplished with no drama and remained unscathed completely by the experience.
If I have put any weight on this week after such a huge day off, I only have myself to blame. Still. There's some sort of adage about being hung for a sheep rather than a lamb that would probably be useful to quote at this juncture. If only I could remember it.
Yesterday, I was a little delicate. Well. Very delicate. But pure orange juice is a fabulous, magical hangover cure, and I was absolutely fine by lunchtime. I was back on the diet with an absolute vengeance. I'm still back on it - and am definitely being teetotal this week - but I have a feeling I need to do a bit of serious walking to even make a dint in working off all that sugar that must've ploughed through my system on Saturday. Sheesh!
Well, after a weekend of hell-raising, I think the rest of the week will be a little more sedate. I have nothing planned, really, except for continuing to count down the days till the Avengers film comes out (25 sleeps to go!) and playing my new Spider-Man board game that my other big sister got for me!!
I hope you all had a lovely weekend too, whatever you got up to. Join me again on Wednesday, when hopefully every last rotten stinking trace of alcohol will have left my system and I'll be just about back to normal...!!
I think I may have mentioned on Friday that the lovely Helena is moving to Australia in a couple of weeks and had the ingenious idea of a few of us attending a beer and wine festival at the weekend. It ended up just being Helena, Becky and I - but we were like the Three Musketeers, one for all and all for a grand old time!!
Well, the entrance fee was £8, and for that you got your very own glass and a £5 token to get you started on the slippery slope to forgetting your own name. So I merrily trotted over to my pals, dished out hugs all round, then scampered off to locate the ideal beverage to start my day off.
There were a few ciders named after Rolling Stones songs, including Brown Sugar and Ruby Tuesday. There was another one called Cherry Perry, which sounded very innocent indeed - but at 7.9% I must say it did have something of a kick to it. Ay chihuahua!! I think I remained in full control of my powers of speech until I'd had my fourth drink (in order to be fair to all the types of booze around there, I had decided to take the slighly controversial and, in hindsight, completely unwise cider-beer-cider-beer...cider-beer [I think, I lost count after a while] approach to my drinking) and then I have a feeling I did need to concentrate a little harder on not slurring.
A beer festival in a museum probably is the best idea ever. I would never have gone to the Commercial Vehicle Museum ever in a million years, despite it being about a 15 minute walk from the flat. But you would definitely be surprised at how interesting old vehicles are after a couple of glasses of something exciting and warming. Did you know they had an old Pope-Mobile in there from the 70s/80s? Comfiest seats ever. Seriously. And who knew that antique fire engines were so comfy?! Well. Now you all do.
After a full day's drinking, the only thing to do, it was agreed, was to go to the pub for a cheeky one. Or two. I think it might have ended up being three. Still. A lovely time was had by all and I decided to walk myself home - which was a little dangerous considering there were a couple of main roads to negotiate - I accomplished with no drama and remained unscathed completely by the experience.
If I have put any weight on this week after such a huge day off, I only have myself to blame. Still. There's some sort of adage about being hung for a sheep rather than a lamb that would probably be useful to quote at this juncture. If only I could remember it.
Yesterday, I was a little delicate. Well. Very delicate. But pure orange juice is a fabulous, magical hangover cure, and I was absolutely fine by lunchtime. I was back on the diet with an absolute vengeance. I'm still back on it - and am definitely being teetotal this week - but I have a feeling I need to do a bit of serious walking to even make a dint in working off all that sugar that must've ploughed through my system on Saturday. Sheesh!
Well, after a weekend of hell-raising, I think the rest of the week will be a little more sedate. I have nothing planned, really, except for continuing to count down the days till the Avengers film comes out (25 sleeps to go!) and playing my new Spider-Man board game that my other big sister got for me!!
I hope you all had a lovely weekend too, whatever you got up to. Join me again on Wednesday, when hopefully every last rotten stinking trace of alcohol will have left my system and I'll be just about back to normal...!!
Monday, 19 March 2012
Leaving On A Jet Plane
Yes, I know, I'm leaving on a series of trains, but you get the general idea.
The last time I left the UK was in 2006, I think. My friend Clayre-Louyse and I went to Norway for 24 hours. We wanted to do something a bit different and Ryanair had flights going for £1.99 per person each way. It would've been rude to not take advantage of that! I think the last real live actual holiday I went on that didn't involve being somewhere because I had something to do and somewhere to go was in 2003 when I went to America for a fortnight that turned into three weeks because of the snow. So... yeah. I think a holiday is somewhat overdue!
I know you're probably all a bit worried about the llamas. After all, they do work very hard all week training for the Big Fiesta of a Friday, and if I leave them for a week with no food and drink they might waste away. Well. Fear not. The boys are off on their holidays too. Tomorrow, they are all jetting off to Magaluf for a week of well-earned R&R. Ricardo has packed his shocking pink leg-warmers for nights out and fluorescent green ones for lounging by the pool with a pina colada. Miguel can't wait to buy himself a new sombrero after one of the twins, Pedro, accidentally ate his old one. Enrique is, frankly, on the verge of a nervous breakdown as he has made checklists of checklists for all the things they need to remember. He must have checked all the llama passports at least five times already this morning. No wonder he's so short - it's all the stress, it must have stunted his growth.
When they get back though, they'll be straight back in training!! As will I! I've still got a shedload of weight to lose, and I don't see why being on holiday should necessarily mean that I have to undo all the hard work I've done over the last ten weeks. I mean I'll definitely have a few more drinkypoops than usual (I am particularly excited about having my first beer of 2012 while I'm away - I can almost taste the Kronenburg already!) and it'd be unfair not to have a smidgen of something yummy from the patisserie - but there's still no need to go crazy and reprise my previous role in life as Miss Pacman just because I'm not going to Fat Club on Thursday. I'm aiming to lose a minimum of 3lbs but I'm hoping to get as close to losing 6lbs over the next two weeks as I can (which isn't impossible and I have done it before). August is getting closer by the day and I don't want to let the side down by ruining things for myself when I've really only just started. I've just got things to do. Big things. Food can't get in the way of my plans - I've made too many of them!!
I can't promise any blog entries while I'm away - although I can promise that I'll try to update at least once. I'm really looking forward to France now. I was unsure about it at first, but now I'm longing to take some lovely long walks in the countryside, taking in the view, hopefully getting inspired to do a bit of writing - the landscape of Leyland really isn't conduicive to a great deal of inspiration, I won't lie.
That's right, France. I'm ready for you. Just hope the feeling's mutual!!
I have no news to report of the weekend's activities. The big sister and I were so pooped after a long and stressful week that we were reduced to gibbering wrecks by Friday and did pretty much chuff all over the weekend, despite our valiant plans of cleaning and packing. However, Jo did teach me how to make a proper spaghetti bolognese last night. I was quite proud of myself. It was actually edible. It's weird that, although I can bake one hell of a cake - I find cooking savoury food to be completely baffling, unless it's a full English breakfast. Which is most unfortunate because it turns out that you can't actually live on cake and full English breakfasts. Trust me. I've tried!!
So, this is it - the penultimate English blog of the month. Jo and I will be catching the eight o'clock train from Leyland on Wednesday morning. We should just be arriving in London this time in 48 hours. Whatever you're all up to over the next ten days, I hope you all have a lovely time. Be good - and if you can't be good, be careful. I will miss you all very much indeed - but don't worry, I shall be back with Ricardo and the boys a week on Friday, hopefully with some good news from Fat Club. If not, it won't be from a lack of trying, that's for sure!
The last time I left the UK was in 2006, I think. My friend Clayre-Louyse and I went to Norway for 24 hours. We wanted to do something a bit different and Ryanair had flights going for £1.99 per person each way. It would've been rude to not take advantage of that! I think the last real live actual holiday I went on that didn't involve being somewhere because I had something to do and somewhere to go was in 2003 when I went to America for a fortnight that turned into three weeks because of the snow. So... yeah. I think a holiday is somewhat overdue!
I know you're probably all a bit worried about the llamas. After all, they do work very hard all week training for the Big Fiesta of a Friday, and if I leave them for a week with no food and drink they might waste away. Well. Fear not. The boys are off on their holidays too. Tomorrow, they are all jetting off to Magaluf for a week of well-earned R&R. Ricardo has packed his shocking pink leg-warmers for nights out and fluorescent green ones for lounging by the pool with a pina colada. Miguel can't wait to buy himself a new sombrero after one of the twins, Pedro, accidentally ate his old one. Enrique is, frankly, on the verge of a nervous breakdown as he has made checklists of checklists for all the things they need to remember. He must have checked all the llama passports at least five times already this morning. No wonder he's so short - it's all the stress, it must have stunted his growth.
When they get back though, they'll be straight back in training!! As will I! I've still got a shedload of weight to lose, and I don't see why being on holiday should necessarily mean that I have to undo all the hard work I've done over the last ten weeks. I mean I'll definitely have a few more drinkypoops than usual (I am particularly excited about having my first beer of 2012 while I'm away - I can almost taste the Kronenburg already!) and it'd be unfair not to have a smidgen of something yummy from the patisserie - but there's still no need to go crazy and reprise my previous role in life as Miss Pacman just because I'm not going to Fat Club on Thursday. I'm aiming to lose a minimum of 3lbs but I'm hoping to get as close to losing 6lbs over the next two weeks as I can (which isn't impossible and I have done it before). August is getting closer by the day and I don't want to let the side down by ruining things for myself when I've really only just started. I've just got things to do. Big things. Food can't get in the way of my plans - I've made too many of them!!
I can't promise any blog entries while I'm away - although I can promise that I'll try to update at least once. I'm really looking forward to France now. I was unsure about it at first, but now I'm longing to take some lovely long walks in the countryside, taking in the view, hopefully getting inspired to do a bit of writing - the landscape of Leyland really isn't conduicive to a great deal of inspiration, I won't lie.
That's right, France. I'm ready for you. Just hope the feeling's mutual!!
I have no news to report of the weekend's activities. The big sister and I were so pooped after a long and stressful week that we were reduced to gibbering wrecks by Friday and did pretty much chuff all over the weekend, despite our valiant plans of cleaning and packing. However, Jo did teach me how to make a proper spaghetti bolognese last night. I was quite proud of myself. It was actually edible. It's weird that, although I can bake one hell of a cake - I find cooking savoury food to be completely baffling, unless it's a full English breakfast. Which is most unfortunate because it turns out that you can't actually live on cake and full English breakfasts. Trust me. I've tried!!
So, this is it - the penultimate English blog of the month. Jo and I will be catching the eight o'clock train from Leyland on Wednesday morning. We should just be arriving in London this time in 48 hours. Whatever you're all up to over the next ten days, I hope you all have a lovely time. Be good - and if you can't be good, be careful. I will miss you all very much indeed - but don't worry, I shall be back with Ricardo and the boys a week on Friday, hopefully with some good news from Fat Club. If not, it won't be from a lack of trying, that's for sure!
Monday, 12 March 2012
Crash! Boom! Bang!
Can't believe it's Monday again. Can't a girl get a break?! All I want is just one day off, just one, on my own, to get my little head straight, to get some things done that need doing and to just have a few hours of silence. God. Sounds like heaven. It's all too much. I need everything to stop for a while so my head stops spinning. I have a feeling it won't happen until at least Easter, though. Even then, I have my doubts!
Saturday was lovely. I haven't seen my niece and nephews (collectively still termed 'the kids' despite the fact they're all grown up and only a few years younger than I am) all year. Which is partly due to general bad auntie-dom, but also due to the fact Southport is a hell of a place to navigate into and out of on public transport - and the fact my niece now lives in Bristol. Which is quite a walk. Still, getting to spend time with any of them is on my favourite things to do in the whole world list - so spending time with all three of them at once made me ridiculously happy. It's my Mum and Dad's 50th anniversary at the end of March and the celebrations began on Saturday. Well. Technically I think they began last Wednesday when Mum invited some of my cousins over, but this was the first actual party for them, and there will be more celebrations as the month progresses. I mean, why not? If you're going to celebrate something so monumental, do it properly!!
I got really upset yesterday. I have never known an overweight person get heckled more than I do while minding their own business walking down the street. Honestly. It's ridiculous. I must be some sort of monster. People must visibly recoil in horror when they look at me and get a little bit sick in their mouths at the sight of the putrid mass that is me. Honestly. I was just walking to my pal's house, feeling quite proud of myself for not being knackered at the half-way point, when I saw three kids on the pavement a bit further up the road. I hate children (I say 'children', they were probably about 17, however, evidently still not old enough to have learned any people skills), as you know, so I thought rather than have to share the same airspace as them, I'd just cross the road. As I did, this happened:
BOY 1: Bloody hell, you're fat, aren't you?
ME: [thinking] Ignore him, ignore him, he may be talking to... someone else... even if you are the only other person on the street!
BOY 1: Erm, excuse me, didn't you hear me?
ME: [thinking] Holy hell! Vile people are getting braver! I wish I knew more people on this road so I could just call on them and hide till they went away!
BOY 2: I'm sorry, were you talking to me, I thought you were talking to the fat person who just crossed the road!
ME: [thinking] If only there was a convenient tall building I could throw myself off at this juncture - it'd be over quickly, I must have one hell of a gravitational pull!!
I mean - goodness only knows what they'd've said if they'd seen me walking down the street at the beginning of January, they'd've probably had a heart attack - as between all three of them they probably only have one heart.
I know. I know what you're all saying. They're idiots - and this is true. They were only showing off in front of their friends - and this is true too, because one of them was a girl. I am quite aware that their hostility and attempts to humiliate me in public was merely due to the fact that they likely have to compensate for inadequate-sized, ineffectual genetalia. And I do derive a smug sense of satisfaction that, if they ever read this blog entry, they wouldn't have a clue what the last sentence meant. But then you can't help that little voice in the back of your head saying, "They're only saying what everyone else is thinking because they don't know you so they're not worried about offending you." You'd think, the more it happened, the less it'd hurt, but to be honest, it doesn't hurt any less - if anything, especially after all the hard work I've put in over the last nine weeks, it hurts more.
I'm feeling very wobbly at the moment, I think that's what I'm saying. I keep having dreams about devouring the contents of a sweet shop and I wake up feeling really bloated and horrible, even though I know I haven't really eaten anything. I felt a bit of a failure on Thursday night and managed to talk myself round by Friday - but now I feel as though perhaps my initial self-loathing was possibly warranted. The thing is, I'm really doing my best and I feel like it isn't good enough but I've no idea what else I can possibly do to make it better. I know I'm a bit grumpy, but by and large I like to think I'm quite a nice person - I definitely wouldn't go out of my way to upset anyone, and I don't understand why complete strangers feel the need to inform me of how large I am when I am clearly already painfully aware of the fact. Really. Stop it. It's fine. I know. I'm doing something about it. It isn't a miracle cure, it's a long, hard slog - so it'll take time, but I'm doing it. Just... back off and stop heckling me! I wouldn't mind but they're not even funny like Stadler and Waldorf from The Muppet Show!!
So, all in all, I'm feeling far too Mondayish for my own good today. Still. There's only seven hours until I'm on the train on my way home. Sorry. Six hours and fifty nine minutes...
Join me again on Wednesday. The good thing about that will be the fact that as I'm already pretty much at rock bottom today, I can't hit a midweek slump by Wednesday - so with any luck I'll be feeling far more cheerful and positive about everything. Well. Perhaps!!
Saturday was lovely. I haven't seen my niece and nephews (collectively still termed 'the kids' despite the fact they're all grown up and only a few years younger than I am) all year. Which is partly due to general bad auntie-dom, but also due to the fact Southport is a hell of a place to navigate into and out of on public transport - and the fact my niece now lives in Bristol. Which is quite a walk. Still, getting to spend time with any of them is on my favourite things to do in the whole world list - so spending time with all three of them at once made me ridiculously happy. It's my Mum and Dad's 50th anniversary at the end of March and the celebrations began on Saturday. Well. Technically I think they began last Wednesday when Mum invited some of my cousins over, but this was the first actual party for them, and there will be more celebrations as the month progresses. I mean, why not? If you're going to celebrate something so monumental, do it properly!!
I got really upset yesterday. I have never known an overweight person get heckled more than I do while minding their own business walking down the street. Honestly. It's ridiculous. I must be some sort of monster. People must visibly recoil in horror when they look at me and get a little bit sick in their mouths at the sight of the putrid mass that is me. Honestly. I was just walking to my pal's house, feeling quite proud of myself for not being knackered at the half-way point, when I saw three kids on the pavement a bit further up the road. I hate children (I say 'children', they were probably about 17, however, evidently still not old enough to have learned any people skills), as you know, so I thought rather than have to share the same airspace as them, I'd just cross the road. As I did, this happened:
BOY 1: Bloody hell, you're fat, aren't you?
ME: [thinking] Ignore him, ignore him, he may be talking to... someone else... even if you are the only other person on the street!
BOY 1: Erm, excuse me, didn't you hear me?
ME: [thinking] Holy hell! Vile people are getting braver! I wish I knew more people on this road so I could just call on them and hide till they went away!
BOY 2: I'm sorry, were you talking to me, I thought you were talking to the fat person who just crossed the road!
ME: [thinking] If only there was a convenient tall building I could throw myself off at this juncture - it'd be over quickly, I must have one hell of a gravitational pull!!
I mean - goodness only knows what they'd've said if they'd seen me walking down the street at the beginning of January, they'd've probably had a heart attack - as between all three of them they probably only have one heart.
I know. I know what you're all saying. They're idiots - and this is true. They were only showing off in front of their friends - and this is true too, because one of them was a girl. I am quite aware that their hostility and attempts to humiliate me in public was merely due to the fact that they likely have to compensate for inadequate-sized, ineffectual genetalia. And I do derive a smug sense of satisfaction that, if they ever read this blog entry, they wouldn't have a clue what the last sentence meant. But then you can't help that little voice in the back of your head saying, "They're only saying what everyone else is thinking because they don't know you so they're not worried about offending you." You'd think, the more it happened, the less it'd hurt, but to be honest, it doesn't hurt any less - if anything, especially after all the hard work I've put in over the last nine weeks, it hurts more.
I'm feeling very wobbly at the moment, I think that's what I'm saying. I keep having dreams about devouring the contents of a sweet shop and I wake up feeling really bloated and horrible, even though I know I haven't really eaten anything. I felt a bit of a failure on Thursday night and managed to talk myself round by Friday - but now I feel as though perhaps my initial self-loathing was possibly warranted. The thing is, I'm really doing my best and I feel like it isn't good enough but I've no idea what else I can possibly do to make it better. I know I'm a bit grumpy, but by and large I like to think I'm quite a nice person - I definitely wouldn't go out of my way to upset anyone, and I don't understand why complete strangers feel the need to inform me of how large I am when I am clearly already painfully aware of the fact. Really. Stop it. It's fine. I know. I'm doing something about it. It isn't a miracle cure, it's a long, hard slog - so it'll take time, but I'm doing it. Just... back off and stop heckling me! I wouldn't mind but they're not even funny like Stadler and Waldorf from The Muppet Show!!
So, all in all, I'm feeling far too Mondayish for my own good today. Still. There's only seven hours until I'm on the train on my way home. Sorry. Six hours and fifty nine minutes...
Join me again on Wednesday. The good thing about that will be the fact that as I'm already pretty much at rock bottom today, I can't hit a midweek slump by Wednesday - so with any luck I'll be feeling far more cheerful and positive about everything. Well. Perhaps!!
Friday, 9 March 2012
I am Not a Number, I am a Free Woman!
You see, there's a reason for me updating my blog on a Friday rather than on a Thursday night. If I'd asked the llamas to dance for me last night, Ricardo would have looked derisively at me and replied, "La mitad de una libra? Eso no vale ni siquiera una sonrisa, la novia!" - or, as they say in Spanish, "Half a pound? That isn't even worth a smile, girlfriend!"
He'd have been right. I was gutted. There's no point in all of this 'any loss is a good loss' thing as soon as you get that news. It's very encouraging and motivating two or three hours later when you've finished beating yourself up and you're in the process of dusting yourself down and starting all over again - and admittedly it's more helpful than handing over a large slice of chocolate cake and saying "to hell with it, get this down you!" But at the time - when you'd been hoping and striving to lose a minimum of 2lbs and you only lose 1/2lb - trying to get any posititivity out of that feeling of abject failure is really tough.
However, I've slept on it. Not the llama - the bitter disappointment that after a week of sensible eating and walking like a true Wainwright, I only lost half a blasted pound. Now, after a fabulous night's sleep - now I can say the words we've all been waiting for all week:
Hit it, llamas!!!
*shimmys around the room shaking maracas*
Why the celebration?? Because, as I realised this morning, my focus had been dead wrong all week.
When I first started this weight loss thing, I wanted to lose five dress sizes. I had absolutely no idea how much I weighed because I'd been too scared to stand on a pair of scales for at least five years (even when I got weighed at the doctors I closed my eyes and told them not to tell me what the scales said!), and I had no idea how much I wanted or, indeed, needed to lose in pounds and ounces. That's still my aim. I didn't think I'd lost sight of that, particularly, but when people start bringing scales into the equation, naturally your focus gets shifted to how much you weigh now and how much you ideally should weigh.
Thankfully, Slimming World aren't interested particularly in focussing on BMIs and don't have that "if you're X feet and inches tall you should weigh X stone otherwise you're fat" mentality. You set your own target, you don't even need to tell them what it is if you don't want to, they'll just give you the right support until you get to wherever you want to be. Which is great. But, for practical and logistic reasons, they do need to focus on the pounds. Which is a very contagious focus, especially when you can't really see much difference but the scales tell you that you're definitely losing weight.
This week was completely the opposite. I can now see that I'm getting smaller. Even though it's only been a week I can see how the walking is helping to tone me up. I can tell by my clothes being a lot more loose-fitting that I'm getting smaller. I am still working towards being five sizes smaller. I've lost one dress size already. I've only got four to go by August. I'll still do it. It's all about the shape. I'm not going to be dicatated to by a set of numbers on a pair of scales. I'm still Being Skinny!! Even if I did only lose half a pound!!
So, to any of my pals or my other readers who are also on a weight-loss journey and have had similar blip, honestly - don't feel down. You've not failed, even though you might think it. You're still winning. It's the small battles that count. We can all do this. It'll happen. We just need to keep our focus in the right place. You will never wear a pair of scales but you will wear lovely clothes in smaller sizes. You will. It'll happen. Let's do this!!
Join me again on Monday, when I'll give you a full report of the weekend's activity - I'm really excited about seeing my beautiful niece and gorgeous nephews (biological and adopted!) this weekend for one of the early celebrations of Mum and Dad's 50th anniversary. It'll be a lovely weekend - and whatever it is you're up to over the next couple of days, have a fabulous time and I'll see you back here on Monday!!
He'd have been right. I was gutted. There's no point in all of this 'any loss is a good loss' thing as soon as you get that news. It's very encouraging and motivating two or three hours later when you've finished beating yourself up and you're in the process of dusting yourself down and starting all over again - and admittedly it's more helpful than handing over a large slice of chocolate cake and saying "to hell with it, get this down you!" But at the time - when you'd been hoping and striving to lose a minimum of 2lbs and you only lose 1/2lb - trying to get any posititivity out of that feeling of abject failure is really tough.
However, I've slept on it. Not the llama - the bitter disappointment that after a week of sensible eating and walking like a true Wainwright, I only lost half a blasted pound. Now, after a fabulous night's sleep - now I can say the words we've all been waiting for all week:
Hit it, llamas!!!
*shimmys around the room shaking maracas*
Why the celebration?? Because, as I realised this morning, my focus had been dead wrong all week.
When I first started this weight loss thing, I wanted to lose five dress sizes. I had absolutely no idea how much I weighed because I'd been too scared to stand on a pair of scales for at least five years (even when I got weighed at the doctors I closed my eyes and told them not to tell me what the scales said!), and I had no idea how much I wanted or, indeed, needed to lose in pounds and ounces. That's still my aim. I didn't think I'd lost sight of that, particularly, but when people start bringing scales into the equation, naturally your focus gets shifted to how much you weigh now and how much you ideally should weigh.
Thankfully, Slimming World aren't interested particularly in focussing on BMIs and don't have that "if you're X feet and inches tall you should weigh X stone otherwise you're fat" mentality. You set your own target, you don't even need to tell them what it is if you don't want to, they'll just give you the right support until you get to wherever you want to be. Which is great. But, for practical and logistic reasons, they do need to focus on the pounds. Which is a very contagious focus, especially when you can't really see much difference but the scales tell you that you're definitely losing weight.
This week was completely the opposite. I can now see that I'm getting smaller. Even though it's only been a week I can see how the walking is helping to tone me up. I can tell by my clothes being a lot more loose-fitting that I'm getting smaller. I am still working towards being five sizes smaller. I've lost one dress size already. I've only got four to go by August. I'll still do it. It's all about the shape. I'm not going to be dicatated to by a set of numbers on a pair of scales. I'm still Being Skinny!! Even if I did only lose half a pound!!
So, to any of my pals or my other readers who are also on a weight-loss journey and have had similar blip, honestly - don't feel down. You've not failed, even though you might think it. You're still winning. It's the small battles that count. We can all do this. It'll happen. We just need to keep our focus in the right place. You will never wear a pair of scales but you will wear lovely clothes in smaller sizes. You will. It'll happen. Let's do this!!
Join me again on Monday, when I'll give you a full report of the weekend's activity - I'm really excited about seeing my beautiful niece and gorgeous nephews (biological and adopted!) this weekend for one of the early celebrations of Mum and Dad's 50th anniversary. It'll be a lovely weekend - and whatever it is you're up to over the next couple of days, have a fabulous time and I'll see you back here on Monday!!
Monday, 5 March 2012
Keep on Walking
Thanks to everyone who gave such positive feedback from Friday's blog. Miguel, Ricardo and Enrique were all really pleased to meet you. Who knows, if I have another good result this week I might introduce you to the twin llamas - Pablo and Eduardo.
You know the thing that worries me most about exercise? The amount of people who go to Slimming World every week and say, "I don't understand how I managed to put weight on - I've been to the gym every day!" only to get the reply "Ah, that'll be why you've put weight on..."
I know muscle weighs more than fat, but still. At the moment I can't afford to put an ounce back on. Of anything. Besides. Losing 1 1/2 stone in eight weeks with relatively little exercise must be some sort of sign. And yes, I am something of an expert in the art of avoiding physical exertion on any level. Besides, I'm a girl, I don't want muscles!
Still. Now I've lost a bit of weight, I seem to have a bit more energy than I used to. Naturally, I understand it's very tiring to lug three tonnes of weight around with you, and that offloading any of it will make you feel slightly more spry of step. But I have all this pent-up energy knocking about the place and in the absence of any talent at any physical activity I was in a bit of a quandry about what to do with it.
So, after a lovely Synful curry cooked by the big sister on Friday, I decided to go for a rather wacky walk on Saturday afternoon in some sort of bizarre attempt to walk it off. When I say wacky, don't get any ideas of The Ministry of Silly Walks - just a slightly bizarre route. I had intended to walk a sort of a square route (get me being all mathematical) but I decided I hadn't quite walked far enough so it turned into a sort of deformed octagonal route...
I must now be thinking like a skinny person. I would never, ever ever ever in a quadrillion years, EVER have so much as considered exercising off any meal - ever. But there you go. I did it. I went for a walk, I didn't die, and in fact I enjoyed it so much that I took a slightly shorter walk yesterday as well. So, I've decided I'm going to do some walking every day. Not tonnes, like, just a mile or two at the most, then I can build it up over the coming months. See how I get on. After all, I've been walking for well over a quarter of a century now and I'm quite used to the 'one foot in front of the other' concept. But I'll never do running. Never. Running is not an activity that was ever designed with bosoms in mind!
Tried on a dress last night that I've only ever worn once and even then it didn't fit properly. It's slightly stretchy material and there are no zips or buttons or anything - but if it doesn't fit, it really doesn't fit. Hadn't even been able to get the thing past my shoulders for years. One of those unforgiving frocks that you really need to have curves in the right places and none anywhere else. It still doesn't fit properly but it does fit very well at the top and around the back. Hopefully I might fit into it soon enough. Fingers crossed. At the moment I'm just chuffed I can try the thing on without feeling as though I might suffocate or be trapped forever with my elbows round my ears...
All in all I suppose I'm feeling rather positive about the start of the week. Suppose it can only get better, at least. Join me again on Wednesday, when we'll all be suffering the midweek slump but will be able to see Friday waving cheerfully at us in signal of a lovely weekend ahead!!
You know the thing that worries me most about exercise? The amount of people who go to Slimming World every week and say, "I don't understand how I managed to put weight on - I've been to the gym every day!" only to get the reply "Ah, that'll be why you've put weight on..."
I know muscle weighs more than fat, but still. At the moment I can't afford to put an ounce back on. Of anything. Besides. Losing 1 1/2 stone in eight weeks with relatively little exercise must be some sort of sign. And yes, I am something of an expert in the art of avoiding physical exertion on any level. Besides, I'm a girl, I don't want muscles!
Still. Now I've lost a bit of weight, I seem to have a bit more energy than I used to. Naturally, I understand it's very tiring to lug three tonnes of weight around with you, and that offloading any of it will make you feel slightly more spry of step. But I have all this pent-up energy knocking about the place and in the absence of any talent at any physical activity I was in a bit of a quandry about what to do with it.
So, after a lovely Synful curry cooked by the big sister on Friday, I decided to go for a rather wacky walk on Saturday afternoon in some sort of bizarre attempt to walk it off. When I say wacky, don't get any ideas of The Ministry of Silly Walks - just a slightly bizarre route. I had intended to walk a sort of a square route (get me being all mathematical) but I decided I hadn't quite walked far enough so it turned into a sort of deformed octagonal route...
I must now be thinking like a skinny person. I would never, ever ever ever in a quadrillion years, EVER have so much as considered exercising off any meal - ever. But there you go. I did it. I went for a walk, I didn't die, and in fact I enjoyed it so much that I took a slightly shorter walk yesterday as well. So, I've decided I'm going to do some walking every day. Not tonnes, like, just a mile or two at the most, then I can build it up over the coming months. See how I get on. After all, I've been walking for well over a quarter of a century now and I'm quite used to the 'one foot in front of the other' concept. But I'll never do running. Never. Running is not an activity that was ever designed with bosoms in mind!
Tried on a dress last night that I've only ever worn once and even then it didn't fit properly. It's slightly stretchy material and there are no zips or buttons or anything - but if it doesn't fit, it really doesn't fit. Hadn't even been able to get the thing past my shoulders for years. One of those unforgiving frocks that you really need to have curves in the right places and none anywhere else. It still doesn't fit properly but it does fit very well at the top and around the back. Hopefully I might fit into it soon enough. Fingers crossed. At the moment I'm just chuffed I can try the thing on without feeling as though I might suffocate or be trapped forever with my elbows round my ears...
All in all I suppose I'm feeling rather positive about the start of the week. Suppose it can only get better, at least. Join me again on Wednesday, when we'll all be suffering the midweek slump but will be able to see Friday waving cheerfully at us in signal of a lovely weekend ahead!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)