Au revoir

I have not been a good blogger recently; I think I have become disenchanted with myself, wearied by what I have to say, bored by continually treading the same well-worn path.  Jade is a lovely colour, a pretty stone, a very 90s name - but not a good state of mind.  A break will do me good!

Because, dear Reader, I am off on the much-anticipated honeymoon on Saturday.  Fatter than I'd like, fatter than I'd intended but determined to make the most of it.  And by making the most of it, I don't mean 24 hour gorging on the boat.  Sorry, that's liner!  Instead I mean not allowing how I feel about myself, especially in unaccustomed cocktail and ball wear (I know, shocking isn't it, I bet you imagined me graciously living in posh frocks most of the time!) to spoil the moment. Chances are, since I seem to be not very good at winning the lottery, this IS a one-off and I do not want to look back and regret anything.

I need a break.  I was very upset this week by someone being mean to me on Twitter.  It really wasn't the end of the world in the whole scheme of Twitter-meaness, but I really allowed it to distress me.  And then 3 good things happened:  1) someone showed me that social media can be a good thing by sending me lots of California tips, 2) One of my friends was fierce in my defence (to me, not to the mean girl) and 3) Another of my friends met up with me, cheered me up and was so sweet and so determined for me to enjoy myself that I was quite taken aback although she's been a friend for 19 years.  And I went from feeling like the girl who's always on the outside of the clique (which still remains true) to not caring because the friends I DO have, both 'real' and virtual are wonderful.  When I come back, all-refreshed, I'm going to be a better blogger.  This online community is important to me.  I won't let the odd bitchy comment deter me - I've had more support than I've had unkindness.

And inevitably I'll be back on the diet wagon.  I recently had a massive clear out and I have SUCH a lot of clothes that are too small for me cluttering up my wardrobe, my heart and my esteem.  I need to get into them and clear out the emotional and physical baggage they represent.

Tomorrow is for ironing, painting toenails and other such vital pre-holiday prep and then Saturday we're off to Southampton to board the Queen Mary 2.  Then California here we come.

Have a good few weeks; I intend to.

Yorkshire pudding

I haven’t posted for a while.  I sometimes think I must sound a complete misery and I was told that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.
 
So I haven’t.
 
But the truth is that the weight issue is really getting me down.  I’ve reached the point where it keeps me awake at night, I’m so frightened that I’m going to get back to pre-LL days.  It’s all thrown into sharp relief because I’m buying lots of stuff of ebay for the holiday and of course, it’s a lottery to know whether it’s going to fit or not.  Every time something doesn’t fit me, a bit of me dies.  Not, sadly a physical bit.  I reckon I have more clothes that don’t fit me than do.  And even less that make my heart sing.  Pauses.  Actually I’m not sure I currently own anything that makes my heart sing.  I’m not sure I ever feel comfortable meeting my own eye in a mirror, but it’s got a lot worse recently.  I just went to pick up a balldress I’m having altered and the fear and humiliation of getting it on and off and having people look at me made my heart pound so much I thought I was going to pass out.  And I have to go back – it’s still too long and the straps they put on are too long.  They’re going to make me put it on again, I know it.
 
It’s not that I’ve dived headfirst into a vat of doughnuts.  I can’t dive and I wouldn’t want to wear a swimsuit in any case.  I’m still doing pretty damn well at my starve days (I don’t enjoy them, they are a slog and an effort but I do them) although I do suspect I am eating too much on non-starve days so that’s something to cut right back on.  But as tough as the starve days are, I am pretty sure I’m not getting any slimmer.  Those too-tight summer skirts I want to take on the honeymoon?  They’re still too tight.  I go in a fortnight.
 
So, now I will balance this gloom with some good stuff.  I go on honeymoon in a fortnight!  And last weekend we spent the weekend and fell in love.  Obviously not with each other as that happened a long time ago, but with York.  We stayed in friends’ family flat which was about 8 minutes walk from the centre so we could pop in and out to meet friends, grab a coffee, shop... oh, anything.  The restaurant that Seren recommended STILL wasn’t open but I am now convinced that it is in fact a front to a nefarious and possibly supernatural clandestine operation.  So, probably not a good place to try and book for dinner.  We went to a not very good Italian but it was a lovely setting and it was a very nice evening getting to know P’s friend and his girlfriend, both of whom are lovely.  We now want to move to York – anyone need a good press officer in York? 
 
This weekend I’m working on Sunday and we’re going to a family lunch tomorrow for P’s mother’s birthday.  Then only one weekend (in Suffolk) and we’re off!  Ready or not (and currently I’m not) here we come...