Thursday, 29 September 2011

I like to be in A-mer-ic-a, okay by me in A-mer-ic-a

I have actually sung this – last year. It’s surprisingly difficult as it’s so damn quick. And you kind of want to do the skirt swishing which is really Not The Done Thing in a choir.

Having researched temperatures and prepared and stressed over my packing list, it seems that the US is also experiencing warmer weather. I’m going to have to start from scratch. I don’t know what to pack and I’ve run out of time (although we go to Heathrow on Sunday night, ready to check in early on Monday morning, we’re off to Suffolk tonight until Sunday morning) to buy anything. Good for my bank balance, bad for my panic levels. Already I can’t remember what I wore in the summer and it’s all stuffed in a drawer under my bed! Eeeek.

I had bought a couple of cute spaghetti-strapped chemises to wear to bed – trying to re-style myself as someone more chic than a girl who wears a big t-shirt to bed. Well, that was a big fat failure – I looked like a cross-dressing bouncer. Surprisingly, this didn’t make me feel any more glamorous – rather less if anything. This retail splurge was all kicked off by a post on a wedding website posing a question I’d not even thought of – namely, what do you wear for the getting ready photos on your wedding day. What I’m confident I won’t be wearing is something that makes me look like the lovechild of an anaemic gorilla and a very butch games teacher, that’s for sure. Figleaves can have their frippery back along with my crushed hopes. Why is there nothing in between wisps of nothing, scratchy whore-wear, frumpsville extraordinaire or those ghastly twee things in the likes of M&S with simpering cartoon characters or ickle kittens? Sigh. I don’t think I’d suit a wispy chemise even if I were a size 12, to be honest.

So, crib list for not returning from US so heavy that we have to stop off and refuel the plane on the way home:
1. I don’t have to eat everything – not every choice, not everything on my plate and especially things I’m eating thinking “hmm, this isn’t actually all that”
2. Share wherever possible and certainly any starters or pudding. And make bf eat most of it (poor him)
3. Plenty of exercise (yes, I know it’s not supposed to make much difference but surely it must help)
4. Restraint. My appetite has not yet returned so I might get a booster here.

See you when I’m safely back in Blighty, comrades.

Wednesday, 28 September 2011

The long and the short of it

It's a hell of a way to go on a diet. Since Sunday I've been unable to stomach eating much at all (3 bowls of homemade chicken soup and some fruit is all I've had for 4 days) which is pretty much a first - I even watched the Great British Bake Off with no interest in gorging myself on their produce. I think it's a gastric flu bug since, after the nausea, dizziness and sweats, came an inability to leave the loo for fear of nastiness of biblical plague proportions. I had to send bf out on an emergency dash for more loo roll. It made Syrian dysentry look like a relatively pedestrian affair (although of much longer duration admittedly). But it meant that I was back to my pre-birthday weight of Porky.4 1/2 this morning. I suspect this is not a real weight since I'm so dehydrated that I barely need to visit the loo (just as well, we were getting rather sick of each other) as nothing is getting as far as my bladder. I keep saying to myself what a mercy it was that I wasn't like this on the plane. Ugh. It's scything through the office but I'm hoping bf will escape. He's convinced he will.

So either it's the lugy, or it's the hair I've lost that have given me the lower SoD reading. I cried when my mum swept it up in a dustpan and brush, filling it to the brim. I'm still not sure whether to keep it bobbed or grow it again. I can't get an opinion out of anyone - EVERYONE annoyingly says that they like it both ways. Bf, bless him, didn't even notice at first! Admittedly it was midnight and he was a bit pissed. He kept asking why I was staring at him - well, I was waiting for him to notice I'd had about 5" of hair off! He recovered well, saying that he only ever sees me when he looks at me. Good answer for a drunken man. Now he says it's pretty -and that he liked it before too. Arrrgghhh. But I did get chatted up on the tube this morning - maybe that's a sign......

Wednesday, 21 September 2011

Earning my crust

On SW you get a daily fibre option for ‘free’ (ie synless) – I’ve been using mine by eating two Alpen Light bars to date but recently I’ve dusted down my breadmaker to make my own wholemeal (the only bread allowed). I’m a bit nervous about it as it is, you know, BREAD. But I keep the sugar low and it’s got none of the additives, preservatives etc that you find in shop bread, just yeast, flour, salt, water and a little oil – and I’m sure it’s got to be healthier than Alpen Lights (sorry Alpen).

Although the allowance is for two small slices, I only allow myself one as I suspect I can’t slice it as thinly as factory bread – I’m being careful with this hitherto illicit substance. And I have it as a piece of toast in the morning. Which brings me on to a problem: I have to have butter (1tsp = a scrape which almost covers it = 2 syns) but then I have marmite (mmmmm). And much as I love marmite (and I DO), I’m aware that a carb ought to be balanced by protein – so, any ideas what to have? It has to be something I can eat whilst simultaneously putting on my make-up, getting dressed etc (no poached egg or similar. Not that I eat poached egg). And I fear peanut butter with a healthy and justified fear. All ideas gratefully received.

It’s actually WI today but for the first time ever I chickened out. Yesterday was bf’s birthday and I had probably 2/3 of a bottle of wine (out of 2 bottles, Reader, I didn’t guzzle the (boozer) lion’s share) and some Turkish food and I just was too scared to consult the scales. Next week, I promise. Although we have dinner out on Friday night to negotiate and bf was muttering about fish and chips (might see if he’ll re-think that one).

Thanks for the supportive gingerisms – especially as last week was a hard one in the Red World. I was outraged last week by a story in the Sun on an albino seal pup who had ginger fur – it showed him on a beach all alone and the text suggested that he had no friends because he was ginger! It’s unbelievable that that’s acceptable for a national ‘newspaper’ to publish. Then there was the sperm bank which won’t take ginger sperm. I tell you, if I were to be artificially inseminated, I would be DEMANDING ginger sperm, so there. Grrrr. You’d think they wouldn’t bait us so much, given the famous ginger temper.

Thursday, 15 September 2011

Seeing red

I’m feeling a tad drab. Worse, I’m feeling like a second rate ginger. Look at this:

I saw this reflected on about a dozen televisions around John Lewis at the weekend in glorious technicolour (or at least mostly shades of orange). I slunk off feeling inadequate.

Wednesday, 14 September 2011

The Pudding Club

Well there was no pie. As such. But bf’s mother had bought two puddings – a tarte au citron and a trifle. Although I love lemon, neither of these would be things I’d choose on a menu. As it is, I had the tarte and it was so disappointing (WHY if something is supposed to be lemon, does it not taste of lemons? Making it a yellow colour is not enough in my book) that I decided to console myself with some trifle – which was even worse. The only thing that was nice was the rather excessive amount of jersey extra thick cream I had (again, neither of these puddings required cream, I know this). Then I had some jelly babies and a couple of chocolates.

So it was no real surprise that I didn’t lose any weight this week. I was perfect 60% of the time (rough estimate) but I need to be perfect 100% of the time in order to shift any poundage, sadly. So, this week gives me a shiny new chance to do that.

Bf has decided he doesn’t want me to make my meatball lasagne as it will be “too big” – even though I offered to make a mini version. In fact he is resisting all “fuss” for his birthday. Things he has recoiled in horror from:
1) Going out for supper
2) Me making supper, inc pudding (had secret plans for tiramisu which he loves)
3) Me making a cake
4) Me making a cake and bringing it to his office with fizz for him and his colleagues
5) Me making him a picnic lunch extraordinaire and bringing it to his office/nearby park
(NB I secretly saw myself in a 50s dress and cute heels with a wicker basket for options 4 and 5. Which would have been a problem since I don’t actually own a 50s dress. Or any heels I don’t limp in. Which severely reduces the sass factor I was fondly imagining)

Admittedly, 1) is kind of redundant since we’re going out for dinner in Suffolk on 23rd, but he is very resistant to me spoiling him and I love to have an excuse to do so. He’s now agreed to go to the cinema that night (obv, I have plans for that to be a bit more special than vats of popcorn and pop), so I’ll need a few booze credits for that at least, but other than this, this week is looking as if I should be able to cover myself in glory. Assuming there’s not only enough glory to cover a size 10. In which case there may be trouble and metaphorical unattractive and distinctly unglorious nudity ahead.

Monday, 12 September 2011

Bob and peeve

So, I’m thinking of having my shoulder-blade length hair cut into an angled bob. It’s a bit scary – I’m not good with change. The thing is that my hair is so fine – I love long hair but I think if it’s as fine as mine, it just doesn’t look good long. Plus I saw this:
And I just thought she looked amazing. Okay, a simple haircut isn’t going to turn me into this elegant creature (more’s the pity) but it got me thinking about my hair. I have no intention of having it up – bf doesn’t like my hair tied back and to be honest, it’s too fine to have anything elaborate without hair pieces and the like which I just don’t like the idea of. I last had it bobbed about 4 years ago pre LighterLife and started growing it out after that. So last time I had shorter hair I was 3 stone heavier. At the time I worried that I looked:
a) Butch; and/or
b) Mumsy and middle aged
I think I’m less likely to look butch being slimmer (if not, alas, slim) but the mumsy fear is still there. On the flip side I have an OBSESSION with hats - which look much better with a bob than pretty much any other haircut. Will I be brave enough? It's now or never as if I had it done now, I would at least have time to grow it again for the wedding - I think. Watch this space, dear Reader.

If you don’t hear from me for a while, I’ve been arrested. I have borrowed a marker pen from work and tonight I am going to have to alter the signs at a new bridge they’re building where I live because they’re driving me CRAZY. There are at least 4 official signs (not someone’s hastily written note) and they’re all variations on this:
“Hard hats only passed this point”

Friday, 9 September 2011

Rules of engagement

When I got engaged over a year ago, after I’d got over the shock, I thought that this would finally be the secret treasure map leading me to the World of Slim Girls. My plan was this: get slim by November 2011, maintain that weight for a year (allowing for a minor festive blip).

So, how’s that going? Well, it’s going pants. There is NO WAY I will be slim – or even discernibly slimmer damnit – by November. Even without a trip to the Land of the Free (Cookie) coming up, my efforts have been too woeful to allow this. Actually, that’s not strictly true, my efforts have in the main been pretty laudable but the results have been absurdly inadequate. My net loss on 5 months of SW is (drumroll).....2lbs off.

Something has to change but I’m not sure what or how. I don’t know at what point I give up on SW and try something different, although what I’m not sure. I don’t think it will be this year though. I can lose on this diet – as long as nothing derails me, I can lose 2-3lbs a month of intense steady, serious dieting. I just don’t know if that is ever going to be enough. Bf looked at me reading the SW mag the other night “With all the diet magazines you’ve read, you’d think you’d be slim now” he said breezily. If ONLY it were that easy.

Talking of hurdles, we’re going to bf’s parents for Sunday lunch. Now, this isn’t too much of a SW problem except for pudding (I won’t be drinking – as ever). I fear apple pie. I fear it because I know it’s going to be heinous in terms of syns and because I actually don’t like pie so will resent the calories. I can hardly say after 16 years, I don’t like pie! Still, I’ll profess myself stuffed and have a sliver (and leave the crust).

Next week’s topics – wedding invite lists and radical hair thoughts.

Monday, 5 September 2011

Rolling, rolling, rolling

Sooo, I'm back. Back on the wagon, back on the blog, back to school. Metaphorically speaking. Back the other side of 40 and after too long a hedonistic time off.

I give myself a B for effort - I tried hard, I had some successes but I ate more than I would have ideally allowed myself. And it's hard to get back on to the diet; I'm back properly on it today but my traitorous alter ego keeps whispering suggestions for naughtiness in my ear and persuading me that I may as well wait until Wednesday (WI day) to get back to it. No, no, NO.

I braved SoD on Friday and today - on Thursday I was Porky.11 (up a terrifying 7lbs from the 24th) and today I was Porky.9. Not because of a virtuous weekend (far from it - I've had a lot more wine than I would usually allow myself) but because of that delightful time of the month I think. That and the fact that on Wednesday I ate bread at all three meals. In fact, all three meals WERE basically bread.

Edible highlights:
1) A bullace fool with an almond macaroon in The Crown and Castle, Orford, on my birthday night. Actually the sole I had as a main course was pretty delicious too.
2) Peggy Porschen cupcakes (SO superior to any others I've had and so light (yet deadly))
3) A Red Poll burger in The Anchor, Walberswick
4) An amazing home-made ham sandwich with artisan sourdough, excellent ham, local chutney and tomatoes from an allotment stall. Mmmm. Ditto cheese on toast one night!

Things I thought I'd enjoy more than I did:
1) Crisps - nice but not worth the diet-grief (I had both pickled onion and prawn cocktail and I have to say I did enjoy the pickled onion. But I can live without it)
2) Other cupcakes from the lady we were thinking of for our wedding cake (may have to re-think this, they were rather disappointing.)
3) Bizarrely, Rococo floral creams - hitherto my favourite chocolate. Not sure why they didn't do it for me. Almost want to have them again as I can't work it out.

Lessons learnt:
1) I miss bread and cheese more than I thought but am satisfied with a small portion if I allow myself (except obviously for Bread-gate detailed above) - I need to work out how to incorporate some into my diet occasionally.
2) I don't have to eat everything I think I have fancied, do fancy or may at some unspecified point in the future fancy. I was mostly successful at this but it was a real struggle. Still, got to get easier.
3) I'd rather have one good cupcake or one lovely glass of wine than loads of indifferent. I guess I already knew this though.
4) Chocolate is not the be-all and end-all. Odd. Can't help but think that I must be eating the wrong chocolate. Trying not to think what the right chocolate might be!

And I've had a lovely long weekend and a lovely shorter one. Our weekend over my birthday was pretty good - a lovely meal out, catching up with friends, and two great walks (and one not-so-great). Bf bought me some antique sapphire and diamond ear-studs. I'd asked for something little to open! They are quite dainty but that's not what I meant! But they're lovely; I just love old jewellery. And he says he's still buying me a bag in NY.

Then staying with bf's friends in Devon this weekend. They're the most lovely couple and they have the most adorable sons - the boys almost made me feel slightly broody, they're so gorgeous. And I'd always thought I'd prefer girls but they were just so much fun to talk to. But as the younger one said, I have him (in lieu of a child of my own!). He also declared love and whispered to me I was pretty. Quite smooth for a 6 year old! Mind you, he also spent 10 minutes telling me about all his memorable poos. Nice. He might want to re-think that as a woo-ing method.

So now I have to buckle down and lose as much lard-age as I can before the great US adventure. I know I will put on weight there too but the more I can get off, the better I'll feel out there and the less I'll have to lose again when I come back. If you see what I mean. Doing, doing (the sound of my yo-yoing energetically). I can only foresee 3 sticky moments between now and Heathrow: 1) Sunday lunch at bf's parents this weekend (tactics: no booze, little pudding, saving all syns), 2) Bf's birthday when he has requested my meatball lasagne (I don't want to scrimp on ingredients for this so a small portion for me and saving up the old syns) and 3) Bf's birthday meal out (choose not what I might like but what seems SW wisest).