Tuesday, 28 September 2010

Reasons you know you've put on weight...

1. When you’re afraid to wash your jeans because you know that post-wash, they’ll restrict blood flow around your body.
2. When your bras bite you in the side of your bosom
3. When the skirt that was almost too big to wear 2 years ago is now rather snug
4. When Scales of Doom smirk when you get them out – and then tell you you’ve put on all the weight you have lost to date on WW.

So all is doom and gloom chez Peridot. 9lbs seems a bit steep (given the dysentry and all) and yet I am unsurprised- experience has taught me that I put on a LOT when eating off-piste. Today I am back on the WW wagon and I’m kind of hoping that this week will see a good loss before going back to slow and steady. And I’m hungry. Grrrr.

To put this in context, I am coming up with some alternatively named stone brackets as I am not keen to write down, share or even possibly acknowledge my actual weight:
1. Fattest (where I started LL)
2. Fatter
3. Fat
4. Chubby
5. Voluptuous (Voluptuous.7 is the lowest weight I’ve ever achieved)
6. Curvy
7. Generous
8. Slim
Reader, we need go no further with this since I’m aiming for the lower echelons of Generous - in my wildest dreams! Currently I am Fat.5. Before I went away I was Chubby.10.

It does all seem a bit of an ineffectual process – if I’m lucky, I could lose just over a stone by Christmas and I fear I could then put that on again over Christmas. I fear the net result being – zilch. As I have royally proven over the last 3 weeks. Still, the only real option is to keep going –and going I will, er, go. Wish me luck, comrades of the anti-flabber.

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

SSouper long post

Can I just say that I posted a HUGE post yesterday and the sodding website has forgotten it? And now so have I and will have to start from scratch. Grrr

So, I'm back from my S themed holiday (that's Syria and Suffolk for the more dirty minded!). And actually there's another S that's the reason I'm typing this from home - that word is sh!t. (I'm so demure I can't even write it!). Yes, today is the 17th day of having diarrhoea. We pretty much all got the bug in Syria but I brought it back as a souvenir and added some delightful extra features such as constant stomach pain, ripping stomach pain when I need the loo and - look away now if you're squeamish - excretion of blood and mucus. So I went to the doctor yesterday (always a gargantuan task) and have been given enormous tablets to take, told to stay off work until at least Monday and told that I had to fast for 24 hours. He relented slightly at my look of horror and told me I could have juice and clear soup. My horror was caused (mostly) by a side effect of this bug which is to make me utterly ravenous. Seriously. I woke up yesterday morning at 4.30am to use the loo and couldn't get back to sleep as I was so hungry. Reader, I have managed it. Just. Yesterday I had a whole carton of V8, another of orange and peach juice, a Pepsi Max, a Diet Lilt and some homemade chicken soup a la Jewish penicillin. And 2 ice lollies - frozen drink, right? My stomach growled alarmingly all day - my mother says this is the bugs wanting food which makes me think of alien, eeek!

Today I think I am a little better - my stomach pain has subsided and my loo trips are less frequent! Although always accompanied with the pleasure that I'm no longer suspended awkwardly above a squat loo with my legs travelling rapidly away from me (and each other) on a wet floor, like Bambi on ice but less cute. And smellier. The loos were not the highlight of Syria - but that is as it should be! Actually it was a wonderful trip - we were in a small group of 8 and everyone was nice (except the lechy, stinky guide and he didn't lech over me). Highlights would be watching the sunset turn the desert Roman ruins of Palmyra rosy pink, gently removing a baby camel from nibbling my scarf and shirt whilst bf caught it on camera (we had to pay of course!) and a small Bedouin girl retying my headscarf for me, incredulous at the mess I'd made of it (she wanted money too). Actually, all that was at Palmyra and whilst it was my favourite place, Damascus and Aleppo were fascinating cities and Saladdin's castle was incredibly atmospheric - in fact there was only one duff day out of 9: we had climbed a horrifying and sweaty 340 steps up to a monastery with overnight packs (and then another c200 up to our rooms - twice, once in the pitch black) only to give up on ever getting anything to eat at 10pm as their religious services, conducted outside and in the dark, continued. Then we shared a muesli bar and some nuts in lieu of dinner on our thin mattresses on a dusty floor before trying unsuccessfully to sleep (no washing facilities and another 35 steps to the loo). It was uncomfortable, dull and mucky. Still, the rest of it was great, the group were great and we saw LOTS - we were on the go the whole time.

I have come home even more pallid than usual - swathed as I was in material the whole time, and with no access to fake tan to take the edge of my neon legs. Men are Weird, Part 2: on the first day, with me sporting an outfit which consisted of an ankle length skirt and long kaftan style shirt, bf said admiringly "You look great!" and proceeded to comment similarly for the next 3 days until the effect wore off ("But you don't look this smart for work"). Who would have thought that this outfit would appeal to him more than my usual knee length skirt and fitted, scoop neck top? Baffling. I think it may be that he likes shirts and now I've got so many of the flipping things (thanks, ebay) I may wear them - but with jeans, really just too voluminous to wear with a skirt. And if I can be bothered to enslave myself to an iron of course. One temperamental piece of equipment holding dominion over me is enough (yes, Scales of Doom, I'm looking at you. But I'm not getting on you yet, oh no. You stay away until Tuesday)

Actually, there's clearly something to be said for this look. One night our driver - a lovely man - turned to bf and said, shyly that I "look like flower" (to say to directly to me would be disrespectful). Thinking about it now, it would make more sense that I look like FLOUR, given my ghostly whiteness. But the Arabic for flower is Jumilla and it stuck a bit as a nickname. I'd keep it but don't want to misrepresent myself as a coltish young R&B starlet (which is what the name sounds like to me!)

Then Suffolk for 6 days. We did 2 x 9 mile walks and 2 x c4 mile walks. But I ate. A lot. (See bug effect above. And possibly greed). I ate a lot of chocolate, wine, cake and pudding. My clothes - whilst still fitting - feel tight. I'm hoping some of this is due to swollen stomach from the bug but... In Syria, I ate very healthily (apart from, uh, getting sick) but there was a lot of food. I never thought I'd say it, but I'm so over mezze. For now. But no puddings - just fruit. Although one of our party was visibly staggered at the amount of watermelon I can eat when I fancy it. I think it was the salad that made me ill. I'll leave that thought with you as a cautionery tale...!

We also had a lovely meal for bf's birthday in Suffolk. With expensive and delicious wine. We had been for a walk that day that we had had to cut short as the paths we wanted to take were shut! As we retraced our steps along the beach, he was taking arty photos, "We're getting married" he exclaimed in tones of amazement and - it has to be said - joy. "I should hope so" I laughed "You made me a promise". "You're wearing my promise" he said, kissing me. Ahhhhh.

Friday, 3 September 2010

The Truth is out there...

So, I decided to get off my well upholstered arse and do something about being a better person. Okay, so I’m doing that on the outside (as it were) with this whole lard-denial business but I am slowly coming to the conclusion that I need just as much work –if not more – on my insides.

I’ve started reading this book called “Feeling Good Together” by Dr David Burns (wasn’t he in Talking Heads? No matter...). One of the first things that jumped out at me was that lack of self-esteem is one of the biggest problems in a relationship. Gulp. But the premise of the book is that you can’t change someone else, you can only change yourself and in doing so, the chances are that the dynamic of the relationship will change. I really believe that. Although I fit absolutely into the Submissive category and they take all blame on themselves far too eagerly anyway. Guilty as charged. Ouch, it's all a bit skin flaying, admitting to your flaws. I don’t suppose that a book will change my life, but I am going to try and use some of their techniques – I recognise a lot of my faults, like not listening properly because I’m panicking and trying to think what to say. I absolutely hate reading these type of books if they don’t strike a chord – they can be cheesy to downright nonsense (I started reading one a month or so ago which was like sitting with someone very drunk making the same point over and over again with increasing fervour and equally decreasing lucidity) but even if I pick up a few tips and make a few improvements, then it’s worth £8 or whatever I paid for it. New, improved Peridot – with backbone – coming this way soon. Actually, if I weigh heavier, it’s probably going to be that backbone...Honest.

See you all post holiday – I am looking forward to many things (the archaeology, the different places, sounds, sights, tastes etc), not least of which includes spending time with bf doing things that we enjoy and most people don’t! I mean traipsing around dusty stones in far-flung places... I know I’ve said it before, but I feel so lucky that we enjoy the same sort of things. AND it’s going to be a great opportunity to be the new improved Peridot as I do get a bit wussy in unfamiliar places – there will be a lot of those as we’re mostly moving every day.

Back in 2 1/2 weeks....

PS Thanks Clare for your long comment - v helpful and definitely chimed a chord with what I'd been thinking.


I had a little freak out last night when I got in to find bf clearly bothered by something but saying he was okay. He was particularly distant. What freaked me out was that he almost quoted what I'd said in yesterday's post about keeping cheerful.

I'm trying to keep a grip on reality. Firstly, I don't think he would be interested enough to look for my blog. Secondly - and most importantly - I think if he did find it (somehow) he'd be too honorable to read it.

But it did make me think that I can be horribly partisan in what I write and for the record, I suspect strongly that I am very annoying and frustrating to live with. My cringe-inducing need to please everyone all the time is a real character flaw - I know bf has said it doesn't feel like an equal relationship but more like parent/child sometimes and I know he finds that really frustrating. I really need to work on my own attitude and behaviour and stop moaning about his so much. For the record, he's strong, funny and clever and I love him very much - his absolute good sense and practical nature does balance my complete lack of these things too!

Thursday, 2 September 2010

Life after 40

It sucks! Well, it does so far anyway although I’m determined that this won’t be the start of a decade long trend!

So, a quick resume of the birthday weekend:

We went to Brown’s for high tea with our 3 parents – it was fine, the tea was lovely and the service exemplary but always a bit of a strain keeping conversation going with that particular cast – but that’s families for you, right? Talking of strain, my dress looked nice but really was just an eensy fraction too tight (and that’s before cake) – fine to stand up in but not comfortable to sit on the sofa and eat in. I held myself so rigidly in fear that I would pop my button that I gave myself back ache. But despite all this, still managed to fit a few cakes in – yum.

Then the part of the weekend with bf and my mum at the tinhut. Oh dear. I tried so hard to keep them both happy that I just succeeded in making myself unhappy – and I didn’t achieve making them happy either. Bf can be terse and say some skin-flaying things and he does tend to be worse with my mum (who he sees as a bit of a moaner). She does tend to try and monopolise me and cuts him out (inadvertently or otherwise, I’m not sure). I just want them both to be happy and – just for this weekend – I wanted them both to want ME to be happy as their primary consideration. It culminated in bf’s comment of “Don’t forget we have to be back for our guests” on Sunday – talking about timescales for the day – causing my mother great offence as she decided she was being pushed aside (she was going home that day). She then told me that she’d not wanted to come anyway and wouldn’t again – further that she wouldn’t be spending time with me and bf again, just the 3 of us. I felt upset and sick about it for the rest of the time away and had to hide it from bf. Then bf was super-tetchy and grumpy on Sunday and Tuesday – on Tuesday I got torn off several strips over 1) breaking a wineglass, 2) not offering to drive in the correct way, 3) not telling him that I wanted him to come and collect the takeaway with me but hoping he’d volunteer and 4) telling my mum that one of the dogs threw up in the tinhut. I don’t know why he thinks having a rant at me in the manner of an adult addressing a small and stupid child helps. He’s still being fairly off-ish which means I have to work hard to be all cheery and bubbly to coax him out of it which is exhausting.

This is why being 40 sucks.

On the food front, hmm mixed success, I think; I haven’t gone mad but haven’t been especially moderate either (moderate to mad?!). I have chucked some stuff away which I always find hard – for example, had a couple of chips with my gourmet burger in a pub and decided they actually weren’t that great and didn’t bother finishing them and some crisps (only after I’d eaten 5/6 of the packet in disbelief that I didn’t really like them – this is more of a psychological triumph than an actual one). There was only one instance when I finished a pudding which actually wasn’t worth it (on my actual birthday) – I love this restaurant but their puddings are never actually that great. This one had a birthday candle in which somehow compelled me to eat it. Yep, not sure why that makes a difference! I also did 2 longer walks, a short one and cycled yesterday. On the negative side, I have eaten past the point of satiety on several occasions – actually most days now I come to think about it and I dare not get on the scales. I’m trying to get back on track but not really achieving it thus far. Reading this back, I don’t think this is mixed success at all – more like failure, just not quite of the abject variety.

So now I’m even more determined that at least the overeating must stop, even if the pointing up doesn’t happen until I’m back in the working world on 22nd September. And on holiday I’m determined that I can eat well and enjoy the – pretty healthy - food but not go mad. I’m feeling down enough that I want to eat – but I know that it will make me feel worse (physically AND psychologically). It ought to be a no-brainer.... Perhaps I have no brain? It would explain a lot!