Incontinence in a Corner

The title is mainly just to amuse Carly! But it is one of the many subject matters we discussed this evening. No, we did not go on a conference which discussed how best to deal with children with bowel issues but we diverted our task onto this subject very early on in the evening. Tonight our Boss decided it would be smart to send myself, Erika, Carly and our leader Eamonn on a leadership course/project/conference thing - still not entirely sure which it really is or what we are supposed to do.

The main point of the evening was to establish types of person, types of managing styles and what colour we should dress in (pretty much - a 'yellow' man in our group was actually wearing a yellow tie - what are the chances?!!) Its an old management style looking at how people work and behave. All four of us appeared to be Yellow people along with the cheery yellow tied man, meaning we were enthusiastic, positive, fun loving type people who are motivated by free beer, chocolate fountains and donkeys at school fetes (come on, who wouldn't have fun at that school fete!)

However, as Erika, Carly and I were distinctly 'Yellow', it did lead to us being 'off-task' somewhat. In fact, don't think we actually discussed anything on the course for longer than about 3 minutes at a time. Main topics of discussion were of course an unfortunate poo related incident, donkeys, Carly's immature love of the number 69, how to introduce oneself to men without a beard, the Secret Meeting (little explanation:- On the board coming into the Hilton Hotel were the different conference rooms and the meetings being held. For one room it merely said 'Secret Meeting'. We were beyond intrigued, the fact that they said 'Secret' meant that we were desperate to go! What they were discussing, who knows? I believe to get into the 'Secret Meeting' there were some treasure map related antics, possibly some hidden handshakes and more than likely, a heavy discussion into the great secrets of the world: why hedgehogs have spikes? What really is at the end of the rainbow? why kerry katona is allowed to live? and why a lot of short men are so bloody irritating? We can only dream. However, the fact that I had no idea what was going on for the most part of the evening led me to believe we might have actually been in the secret meeting all along, the secret being what we supposed to actually do.) anyhoo.

Eamonn, having abandonned us to watch the football, left us to our deeply complex and intellectual conversations! I haven't giggled so much in ages! I know it was work, but we had so much fun! We did learn a lot, but what I think I really found out was that three 'yellow' people together were quite scary. Before coffee had arrived we had managed to scare away all the other people from our table (not sure we were appreciated). Infact, before long we were sat in a corner all alone with as many hilton after dinner mints we could eat! Feeling slighty incompetent as I still wasn't clear on what had gone on over the evening, basking in our yellow glow, aching from laughing a little too much, I felt content.

I find it difficult still with people I work with to feel relaxed and completely myself. Barriers were thrown up during my third year at uni - I shut down pretty much. I was a complete mess in other words and was horrible. I found it, and still find it very hard to form new friendships, the friends I have known what a mess I was and don't judge me on it. I am only just getting used to the fact that none of the last few years really matter, it doesn't matter how I was, just who I am. It has taken a very long time to get back to feeling somewhere like normal and less unhinged. The wiring still isnt quite right in places, but thats ok. Even with those disconnections, if I can truly relax, be myself, and enjoy giggling hysterically about inane nonsense, then I am happy.

Good company, good food, good laugh! Good night.

Wicked Witch of the (North) West

From this point on I will probably be known as quite evil. What is the point of being an adult if you cannot have adult conversations about things without descending into hysterics?

I have never really been a strong person, I have always wished to let things lie, to let bygones be bygones etc. I didn't like to challenge people, I still don't, but I have realised there is no point going through life keeping your mouth shut. If things upset or offend you of course they should be voiced, in a calm, rational, adult manner. Obviously not only delivering home truths in the correct manner but also in the correct situation.

I was never good at my timing. Before Steve and I were an item, usually in fits of jealousy, I would have a go at him for pointless things in public arenas. This did not make me a very nice person and made many people feel uncomfortable. From that point I tried realy hard not to grumble about anything.

This turned in on myself and made me a paranoid (even moreso) weak shell. I was too scared to say anything ever. When Steve and I started living together, this internal turmoil would erupt into a violent explosion. I would scream and cry and become hysterical, I would storm about, push, shove, lose total control. Thankfully I have learnt now to control anger and 'discuss' things that bother me, but only with Steve.

However, things bother me. After breif storming sessions, strugling with my demons and pacing about the house, ranting inside my head, I can calm down. In this zone I become very calm and rational and am now able to piece together a justifyable arguement in my head. I am not saying I am always right, but I feel I am now able to approach difficult situations with a clear head, knowing my part.

I don't take to these situations lightly, usually they take weeks if not months to manifest. It does also take something I feel quite important or serious to provoke it, no more walking out on Steve because he hadn't washed up! No more childish tantrums because my toys fell out the pram.

So it was in this calm, rational yet determined mode that I called a friend this evening. Shaking like a leaf and terrified of the ramifications, I settled on the idea that I had to say something. I wasn't sure how it was going to go or how well recieved my conversation would be, not good though. I knew the point I wanted to make, I was calm in my decision to call. Understandably, she didn't take it well. Thats the problem though with being honest, it hurts. She is understandably upset and feels that I have attacked her, it was personal. However, I maintained my rationality and although my hands, arms and legs were dithering uncontrollably, I felt I managed to stand my ground rationally. Something I could never have done 12 months ago.

I hope if she ever reads my blog again that she understands why I did what I did. It wasn't out of spite or hate or mallice, but out of geniune love and affection for those I care about. I know that there will be fallout from this. I am aware that things will be misunderstood, that chinese whispers may take over. But I feel I did something for the greater good this evening. Or maybe Im just a meddler? I don't know. All I know is I can't doubt my decision now, whats done is done, I felt it was necessary.

That again is another problem with honesty. What some people believe to be necessary is completely different from anothers point of view. I believe I am a kind, sensible, thoughtful person and would do anything for my friends.

I hope you see it this way.

Drool!

It's only fair I share him! Enjoy ladies.

Nx

Wasting Time

Hmph. Bored.

I have so many things I need to do and so many things I want to do, but just can't be bothered. Its Saturday night and Steve has taken his little brother to Nottingham to play poker. They won't be back here until the early hours, so I have to occupy myself - without eating!! I ordinarily really look forward to a night alone, I really was looking forward to this one, but I know what happens, get slightly bored and I eat. If I get bored when others are around I don't eat. Food is my friend in solitary situations.

Generally I've had a week off, not only from work, but from my enforced change of routine. I haven't eaten vast portions this week, but I have eaten a lot more, and a lot more sugar based food. The other day I cooked two batches of fudge because I wanted to entertain myself. Its not very nice fudge, (either under or over cooked, don't know which) but that hasn't stopped me eating it. I had scones, ice cream and chocolate last weekend, the rich valenites desert over two nights this week, and very little exercise. Next week I need to start again!

Anyway, so tonight I am alone. I am trying not to go into the kitchen, fudge be there! Also, on evenings like this I like to bake . . . probably not the best way to 'restart' the week. So . . . what to do . . . .?

Watch the BBC's Pride and Prejudice . . . Check! On in the background, nothing like a Mr Darcy fix on a lonesome evening. Colin Firth as Mr Darcy is the quintessential heart throb. I love him and wish I was as witty and intelligent as Miss Eliza Bennett if it would catch me a man of that calibre and good standing! I've not done too badly though with Steve! Looking at fallen relationships around me recently I realise I am a very lucky young lady to be with someone I love and who loves me regardless of all my insecurities and paranoias. Fanatsising about Mr Darcy is still a very definite necessity in my life though!

Finish reading the book I started before christmas . . . If I know where I've put it! I'm reading 'Son of a Witch', the sequel to 'Wicked'. I love reading, however I need large chunks of time and an abundance of energy to concentrate in order to read adult books. I can't keep reading children's books all the time! I am often mocked by Steve and Erika for being a 'retard' at reading! It takes me ages and I always feel too tired. This may seem strange but I get so involved with a book, it totally consumes my whole being, so reading takes energy! Steve thinks I am dyslexic (I struggle with my left and right) and that this is the issue. I am not dyslexic, I like many other women, have more important things to think about than wether I know my left and right . . . I'm not coming out too well from this!

(From the above point) revise my left and right . . . can I really be bothered? what horrors will befall me should I occaisionally mix them up? "Don't step left, you will fall off the cliff." - instant hospitalisation or death. "Drive on the left side of the road," - instant hospitalisation or death. "Put this shoe on your right foot," - blisters, poor walking, falling over leading to instant hospitalisation or death. Maybe its worth spending ten minutes on. Hmm.

Bake a cake - ermmm, no. This would require not only a walk to the shop for eggs but mean I would eat a vast proportion of it before the Webley Brothers return.

Play Scrabbulous - check! Unfortunately I am only playing against three people and they are all busy this evening so I have to wait until tomorrow for them to return their go. Limited time wasting.

Go for a walk . . . the fact that I am already curled up in bed with Colin Firth means this is unlikely, not imposisble but highly improbable.

Do my school planning . . . It might actually come to this. However, it is Saturday night and school work was designed for Sunday nights just before you start again!

Mark my writing assessments . . . see above.

Drink wine . . . I would love to right now, but even though Steve has my car I may need to be aware of myself incase certain horrors befall the Webley Brothers on their outing - not sure what, but something could happen (see, not paranoid in the slightest).

Play at dressing up . . . now this one is very appealing. Now I am a little thinner I should be able to fit into my old university ball dresses! Might end up flouncing around the house drinking wine, imagining I am dancing with Mr Darcy and slighting Mr Collins. My favourite ball gown is one my mum made, its a black velvet bask with a HUGE dark purple skirt which flashes deep red, blue and black depending on how the light catches it - amasing.

Work out how to use the timer setting on my camera . . . this could be in collaboration with the above.

Write another chapter to my kids book . . . started over a year ago and only 4 chapters in. Lacking inspiration at the moment, am waiting to win the lottery and take a year off to write.

Check lottery numbers . . . where's my handbag?! Ah, downstairs, do it in a bit.

Well, with all these things to do I should get going, will never fit it all in! On the other hand . . . might just have a piece of fudge!

Nx

Is it just me . . . ?

While trying on multiple pairs of low cut, flab cutting, over priced, skinny fit, depressingly thin, badly made, non-comfy jeans (it went soooooooo well), I was yet again investing in a little people watching. To be more accurate, people listening.

I know I am judgemental at the best of times, but I realised today just how judgemental I could be. Although, not entirely unjustified. The first was in New Look, who have surprised me actually with their range of tops at the moment, not jeans though - we went through this earlier, I will try not to repeat myself! I was layering tops and failing miserably to coordinate anything when I overheard voices in the next cubicle. Three generations of the same family were shopping together which I thought was lovely, something very traditional and surprising in a world so twisted round. There was a young girl spending her birthday money, her mum and grandma. I couldn't see them, obviously - I hadn't created a little peep hole to watch them by, but I did sit and listen for a while! I need more of a life . . . .

Anyway, the girl sounded about 11 - 12, quite young. She was trying on various things including jeans. Apart from wanting to tell her never to buy jeans from New Look, I was ready to scream at her elders at what they thought was appropriate for a young girl. The discussion went through white leggings, to white jeans, to mini skirts and then I heard the mother say . . . ."You look far better in those white hot pants you own!" At this point I wish I had a peep hole to see just how old this girl was. It was entirely feasable that she just sounded young, that she was a misguided teenager who thought hot pants were cool (for anyone who may be confused I would like to clarify that at no point, unless you are Kylie, are hot pants cool. They aren't now, and never will be!) I quickly gathered my things as I realised I needed to leave the changing rooms before I actually started telling people how to dress.

As I walked out from behind the curtain I realised to my horror, I was right. This was not a teenager, not even close. She was indeed a little girl. She was no older than 12 and her mother was telling her she looked good in hot pants. Now, I know I was never the coolest of kids, I always had hand-me-downs and Tesco clothes (there is definitly nothing wrong with Tesco clothes, I still love them), but come on - hot pants? On an 11 year old? Really? The mother should not be dressing her little girl like a prostitute. But maybe I'm just old fashioned . . . and quite happy to be if thats the case.

The second thing that distressed me was in Dotty P's. I was rifling through the sale rail (some nice little numbers actually, but nothig fit) when I heard a very aggressive voice, "Get eere or I'll batter you! Gerr eer now!" I looked up expecting to see a naughty boy running around the shop. I was not surprised to see the owner of the voice as a very large, extremely scary looking woman. Red puffer jacket, hair scrapped back with what I assumed was gel, could be natural . . . who knows (said I was judgemental), pushing a push chair. There was a baby in the push chair but I could not see the naughty boy. "Get by me NOW or I'll kick your 'ed in!" she continued in her dulcet tones. When I edged my head around the trousers I could see to who she was referring. Tottering behind her was a tiny toddler, no more than 2 or 3. The little girl, from what I could see, was guilty of nothing more than not being able to keep up with mother's yeti like strides. The poor thing was seemingly oblivious to the venom at which her mother was screaming at her.

I spun back around quickly, hiding the fact that I was obviously fuming. How DARE she speak to a child like that. I don't care how naughty they may or may not be - that was bang out of order. I wanted to tell her what a horrible person she was and that she didn't deserve to have one kid, let alone 2. However, I quite like my face, I quite like being able to chew food and breathe without aid. I think had I approached the neanderthal I would have ended up in intensive care.

The world is a very sad place, and things like that put my life in perspective. I had a wonderful upbringing all things considered. I was loved and knew it. I was well cared for and knew it. I never had to doubt the care my family gave me (for the most part) and I now don't have to question the care and love of my friends. That poor little girl is going to grow up knowing nothing but hate and aggression. Steve is right. Humans should have a test before they are allowed to breed, it would stop children growing up a psychological mess and hating the world thus precipitating a vicious, downwards spiral.

So, it may be a day (ish) late, but show people how much you love them. Let those you care about know how much you care about them, that you would not let harm come to them, and that you would definitly tell them how appauling they look in white hot pants.

Love you,

Nx

Not giving up the ghost, just yet.

Comfy old jeans are like a good friend. They won't let you down, they don't get offended if you choose to wear something else, but are always, without fail, there when you need them. I love jeans, I live in them. My current pair are Doty P's high waisted, dark size 14s. However, what with the old losing weight shennanigans, they are not looking their best anymore.

Infact, they don't actually fit anymore! They are supposed to be high waist, however, they are now sitting below my hips. I know I can wear a belt with them, but unfortuntely it makes me look like I am wearing a nappy as they bag quite horribly around the front. Either that or a look of someone who hasn't had the full sex change ops yet! Not attractive.

The fact that I now have a figure coming back to me is very exciting. So, I thought I would celebrate this with some new interim jeans, a pair that look like they might actually fit. I toddled off into erdington - I wasn't prepared to go into Birmingham, half term shopping? No thank you. To my excitement I found that I could actually squeeze myself into size 12 jeans in new look, but they were all too low cut. I felt slightly dirty looking at jeans in new look (it was like cheating) so I put down the size 12s and went into Dotty P's. I only ever buy jeans from Dorothy or Next because they are long enough for me. However, skinny jeans were abundant. The beautiful high waisted flared jeans on the poster were no where in sight.

Needless to say, the size 12s didn't get any where near my bum! I am not built for skinny Jeans - no one should be, they are wrong on all sorts of levels. As the world is not ready for me flaunting myself in super tight denim, I meandered back out of the shop, avoiding the frilly tops that were calling me (the world is not ready for me in frills either!).

So my old jeans were slightly hurt at me looking for a replacement, but welcomed me back with open arms. Soft and saggy, they made me feel so comfortable. I didn't care that they were slightly trampy looking anymore, I love them and I don't want to lose them just yet!

Flowers? . . . For me?!!

Just to show how much I love Daffodils, I wanted to share the piccies of my flowers. Caroline bought me a lovely bunch on Friday night which just look wonderful in my kitchen. Steve bought me much daintier ones, but sooooooo pretty. Daffs are such happy flowers, they radiate sunshine and smiles. And they are cheap!! I challenge anyone not to see the beauty in these simple flowers. Such a simple pleasure in life that brings so much joy!

Love and Obsessions

Happy Valentines to one and all!

I know, I know, I know, it's a commerical crock of a day. Its an excuse for card companies to make millions following the post christmas lull. Its a reason for single people to be angry - I was one of those people for far too long.

Growing up, I didn't have boyfriends, not really. There were people I fancied and obsessed about as a teenager - those boys know precisely who they are, subtlety was not my forte! I apologise for my slight stalkerish tendancies! I remember getting a few cards, one year I got a huge bunch of flowers from a strange, penfold-like man who I had met for an hour, two weeks previous - weird. Essentially, Valentines was something that kinda passed me by, apart from those two occaisions in my pre-twenteens.

The first Valentines day I had with a boyfriend was tainted by arguements as I couldn't understand why he would rather go to a 'traffic lights' social at univeristy rather than spend the night with me, his girlfriend. I soon found out as three days later he broke up with me! Apparently wanting to spend time with him was just out of order - I was such a bitch!! Im sure one day I will be cruel enough to publish the 'toothpaste day' about this boy as his cumuppance, but tonight I am in a good mood, I have eaten lots of food!!

So anyway, I am basically still a thirteen year old girl when it comes to Valentine's day, I like to give cheesy cards and I like to get them. I also use it as an excuse to cook!! Valentine's day becomes less about me declaring my love to those around me, but declaring my undying devotion to the one thing that will never leave me; food! I also like to spoil Steve, who did very well this year! Steve 'disagrees' with cards, I have never been given a card for any occaision from Steve. This year in fact was the first year I had christmas presents wrapped in wrapping paper, not random plastic bags he found under the sink! So when I was not only presented with a single red rose, TWO bunches of daffodills (my absolute favourite flowers), a smile and a pink envelope, I was completely over the moon!! Ok, he had already told me that the card was from Card Factory and cost him 30p, ok the envelope blatantly belonged to another card which had obviously been abandonned on another rack, but he had actually bought me a card! I really was happier than when he bought me my silver necklace last year!

But my spoiling today was wonderful! I spoilt myself rotten, and my boy! I like feeding him my creations and seeing his reactions. Tonight I produced a three course dinner, setting the coffee table in a silver service style fashion (one day I will have a dining table - I can dream), and chilling a Jacobs Creek pink bubbly, to really mark the occasision!

Starters - very simple prawn cocktail with homemade marie-rose: Equal parts double craem and mayonnaise (good full fat mayonnaise, only Helmans will do), a squeeze or two of lemon juice and a good squirt of heinz tomato ketchup!

Mains (and I was very proud of this) - Pan fried Duck with pomegranate sauce and celeriac mash. I had never eaten celeriac before, but all the recent duck recipes suggest placing your cut duck pieces on a bed of celeriac, so I did and its actually very nice. After boiling down, I mashed with plenty proper butter and some fresh chopped corriander. The duck was pan fried in butter, skin side down, until beautifully golden, then placed onto a roasting rack in the top of the oven. The sauce, I have to say, was a triumph. After removing the fat from the duck pan, I added some more butter and shallots. I then added equal parts chicken stock and pomegranate juice, a good sprinkling of dried juniper berries and dried pomegranate seeds and salt. This was allowed to reduce while we ate the very 1970s style prawn cocktail (served in a high wine glass), so that the sauce was good and sticky when time to serve. Adding my favourite roast potatoes, carrots and green beans, it was a feats to behold. Steve even said it would rival a restraunt's duck dish - high praise indeed!

Dessert- nearly killed us - Vanilla chocolate Creams. I did make quite a lot, in fact there is enough left for maybe two more desserts each! A cream based, two layered, set dessert that is wonderfully rich!

Vanilla Chocolate Creams

450ml double Cream

Vanilla pod

6 tbspn castor sugar

200ml creme fraiche

3 tbspn water

2 tsp powdered gelatine

50g chocolate (think I actually used more like 75g of dark, continental chocolate)

* Put cream, sugar and split vanilla pod into a pan, heat gently and stir constantly until the sugar has dissolved. Bring to the boil then allow to simmer for 2-3 minutes.

* Take off the heat. Remove vanilla pod and stir in creme fraiche.

* Put gelatine in the water (in a different bowl) and allow to go spongy. Heat the water/gelatine in a bowl over hot water (bains marie?) and stir until dissolved.

* Add gelatine to cream mix and stir well.

* Separate cream mix into two equal portions.

* Melt chocolate in a bowl over hot water, then add to one half of the cream mix. Stir well. Pour this mixture into 4 ramekins - I put it into 2 glasses, WAY too much!! Place into fridge to cool for 20 minutes. Leave remainning vanilla cream mix at room temperature.

* When chocolate cream has set, spoon over the reaminning vanilla cream and return to fridge.

* When ready to serve, grate over some extra chocolate, or as I did, add a little grenache!

Diet went well and truly out of the window today! Do I care?! Not in the slightest as I celebrated the greatest love of all - creating dishes I have carefully, lovingly prepared, and have someone (other than me) appreciate and enjoy it. Life to me doesn't get much better than this!

Hope you all had a wonderful day, no matter what.

Nx

Frankenstein's Monster

Ok, so maybe not as hideous as Frankenstein's monster, but the idea is right.

It suddenly dawned on me today how we 'collect' bits of other people. Now, in some warped minds, some individuals actually do collect bits of people, Hannibal Lecter for example. I am not saying I have random limbs and oddments of bodies lying around, but metephorically maybe.

I had a flit home (24 hours only) and while filling up at Morrisons I was met with, "Smile, it might never happen!" I turned round to see a face I hadn't seen in a very long time. I have seen Laura now twice (?) since I left school ten years ago, that makes me feel old! In fact, the last time I did see Laura was in Asda a couple of Christmases ago. The reason I mention this, is because she is a freind I never forgot, and thinking about it, have a lot to thank her for.

Over the years, you meet people and 'collect' things from them. For example, from Steve, I have 'collected' a slight stubborness, a developed sarcasm, a habit of swearing too much! From the friends I waitressed with, I 'collected' a confidence and ability to talk to complete strangers. At high school, I didn't really realise it, but I collected a wide selection fo things.

I never really felt like I was meant to be there. I never really felt comfortable in my own skin. Like many people, I didn't fit in. I was relatively smart, not particularly girlie or attractive, had male friends who were oh so lovely, but not necessarily the 'cool' boys, I wasn't very popular. I was't very well liked. Various hideous things happened to me; including being the only person in an enitre form group not to be invited to one of my so-called-best-friend's birthday party; including having another 'friend' read my diary out to the enitre class; including having all my 'friends', save one, not turn up to my birthday sleepover; including being generaly ridiculed and humiliated at many turns and corners; all by people who were supposed to care about me. From these, and other fallouts, I 'collected' how not to treat others. I also 'collected' a sense of worthlessness. I 'collected' the idea that you should always be lovely to people, no matter what, because you never know when it will come back to haunt you.

From Laura, I collected a sense of identity. She was the year (or two? I forget) above me at school. I suspect she had a fairly miserable time at school too on occaisions. I remember particularly in bad spells, I would spend my lunches and breaks with her. She didn't care that I was slightly awkward and unpopular, she accepted me for me. She was always that little bit different from the girls in my class, and I amired her for it. She always seemed so self assured and aware of who she was. I collected the ability to see myself for who I was and not be ashamed of it, the determination not to mold into another flicky-haired, giggly, hand-bagged clone. Laura is fabulous!

The saddest thing is, that yes you do collect the positive attributes from friends along the way, but the negative ones seem to resonate the loudest. I left school with very little self confidence. It wasnt until I went to university that I felt I truly belonged anywhere. I suddenly felt that I wasnt judged anylonger. But its only now that I have started to see how I have become the person that I am. I am a collection of influences and experiences built into a solid whole. I am still developing, still being influenced, and gainning in confidence all the time.

To those people who knocked me down, I wish to say thankyou. Without those experiences, I would never have the strength to know what kind of person I would never want to be. To those people who gave me a little bit of themselves, I wish to say thank you for helping build me into a person I am proud to be. Cheers Laura.

Nx

Flipping Fantastic (WARNING: Pancakes were harmed in the making of this blog)

Sorry I haven't written very much over the last couple of weks, between work, social engagements and general yoyoing emotions, I haven't got round to writing.

This week was bizarre. After Monday's let down, I got back on the horse so to speak. I started again. I began to think carefully again about what I was eating and what I was doing to combat anything I shouldn't be eating!

Tuesday was great, I still felt a little disheartened about my Monday binge. It shook me well and truly. I was disgusted with myself. But there is no point dwelling, if I am that appauled, I shoudl do something about it. Food on Tuesday wasn't ncessarily the smartest as it was pancake day, but god damn it, I wasn't missing out on pancakes. Steve was shocked that I had never flipped a pancake before, so after making a batter together and arguing over the best technique to make the perfrct pancake, we got to flipping! Once I had begun to flip the pancakes, Steve said I had to go for 'Big Air'. This meant I had to, one handed, flip the pancake practically as high as the ceiling. For this, we moved into the dinning the room after Steve had hit the lights in the kitchen. After throwing my pancake into my face several times, I did finally manage 'Big Air'!! Hooray! You might think, but as my air born pancake reached its lofty heights the wind direction changed (the ceiling of my victorian terrace clearly has its own climate), it no longer was directed tpwards my open pan. It was cruelly swept away from me and landed slap down on the wooden floor. Never mind, it still got eaten!!

Steve also had a similar problem with his 'Big Air'. But his mathamatical brain managed to calculate the physics of the experiment so he could catch his pancakes, unscathed. However, bravery took over and he attempted the ultimate pancake toss. The pancake was flipped in 'Big Air' stylee, he pun on the spot, pan flung out in the opposite direction, the pancake . . . on the floor! Devestated he lay on the floor, crestfallen at his fallen pancake. He wanted to give up. He had given up. Nevertheless, my 8 year old inner child that had never flung pancakes before, was mesmerised - he just had to try again! The pancake, now quite cold, was returned to the pan and attempt 2 took place. As the spin was completed, I closed my eyes momentarily, praying the pancake would make it. Opening my eyes I saw Steves pancake land perfectly into the pan, arms aloft we cheered like no one has cheered before! Steve ran a small circle around the dinning room, praising his greatness! He celebrated by eating the cold floor pancake!

It was lovely, I was a child again. My Mum never flipped pancakes, I had never even tried. Its pathetic I know, and its strange how something so simple and so innocent can revitalise you. I knew I shouldn't really have eaten so many pancakes, I knew pancake shouldnt really be in my hair, I knew I shouldn't eat food that had been on the floor, but none of that seemed to matter. I was 8 again, I dind't need to watch what I was eating - ust for a moment. I was suddenly relaxed and happy. I had had a major stress over Monday, which was probably partly due to my stresses in other areas of my life. I have been up and down very much over the last couple of weeks, doubting myself at many corners. But all my worries were flipped away in the toss of a pancake! Wonderful!

Aside from all that, I am now 12 stone 3! Just 2 pounds to go to reach the half way point! Hooray!!!!!!! I am sooooooooooooooooo happy. Yesterady at work, so many people commented on my weightloss, noticing I had a waist again - I was only wearing jeans and a jumper! I felt fabulous. However, I have my lovely Cie this weekend so wine will be drunk, sushi eaten, and hopefully, mucho fun will be had! Not necessarily great for the waist line!

Nx

Good Day; Bad Day.

Just when life should be getting easier!

Strange old day. I have the typical womanly issues today - Im not sure how many blokes read this, but I am sure you get what I mean. As with many women, all I have wanted all day long is junk. However, I knew I didn't need it. I knew I could manage as I have done now for a few weeks, haven't binged at all. It has been bloody hard work but over the las week or so, I haven't even noticed it.

My confidence has grown in leaps and bounds. I am happier with how I feel, how I look and how I cook. I am starting to feel a little more adventurous with my dress sense. My teaching is more vibrant and enthused. I am happy.

So why the hell did I do it? What the hell is wrong with me? I've been doing sooooooooooo well. I've been so proud of myself. Then I let it go in the space of 15 minutes. I undo all the good work I have done, for nothing.

It was a funny old day. I felt I had worked pretty hard and got nowhere. I felt pretty on top of things though, pretty confident. I had my new long black sweater in that makes me feel thin (who knew how fab New Look Tall is?!), my weight watchers humous and carrot sticks in the fridge, and no mental ability to organise myself at all! I was not on this planet. I knew I was being covered this afternoon, yet I hadnt sorted any lesson out - I have no idea why, this was not me. So, I worked through my lunch, forgot the carrots, and the somewhat suspect low fat humous.

So, come 4.30 I was starving hungry. I hadn't felt so hungry in ages. I am now used to set meal times (ish), to eating a decent, healthy amount. I am not used to skipping meal at the moment. I thought my stomach was going to lurch up and out of my throat, just to eat something. I drove passed McDonalds (Satan's food by the way) and felt myself drawn. I quickly kicked sense back into the alien brain and decided on a sandwich from tescos. I spent a good few minutes perusing the calorie content on each lable - to my horror I found that the 'healthy option' thai prawn wrap had more calories than the normally packaged duck and hoisin wrap, how does that work?! So, with my relatively low ft wrap (the lowest there) I went to the check out . . . . via the bakery counter . . . then by the chocolate counter.

I lost control. I drove a few minutes, parked up and within 4 minutes I had eaten wrap, huge chocolate cookie and chocolate egg, all washed down with some manky flat coke I had bough on my drive to Newcastle a few weeks ago. I wanted to vomit right there and then. I was appaulled. Not only at what I had eaten, but at the speed and desperation I did it in. I hated myself. I wanted to curl up and cry and beat my head. I was devestated.

I gathered myself together, made sure I put all wrappers into a carrier bag and went home. Immediately I told steve. I burst out crying, sobbing how sorry I was, how I had undone everything. I was waiting for the disapproval, the disapointment, the disgust . . . . it didn't come. Not that I expected this from steve, its what I felt about myself, therefore why shouldn't somone else see it too? He came over to me, arms around me, pulled me towards him and sshhhsshed me. He was proud that I had admitted to what I had done. That I was now strong enough not to hide it. To admit it to the world meant I could still fight this. Straight away he put his shoes on and took me for a walk, some fresh air and some damage control both necessary.

I still don't know why I did it. I wasn't down, I wasn't angry, I didn't feel like I needed anything, I was just hungry. I was suddenly so consumed with desperation to eat, so consumed with the idea that I was doing something wrong. I knew it wasn't a good idea, I don't think I even really wanted to, but I did.

Not sure I can do this. Maybe I'm just destined to be big.

Nx

Not a Friend of Dorothy, But Thinner!

Aarggh.

I would like to cry, but I am too confused!! On Thursday night when I went for my me-time, I wandered into Brantano Shoes. I found some gorgeous red clarkes shoes with 40% off!! woo hoo! my internal monologue screamed! I walked down to clarks just to check.

They were indeed clarks shoes, but had not come into clarks shops yet, they were a new range that Brantano can get early. So I toddled back, tried them on and strutted about the shop. Wonderful! Red shoes, a vintage syle, clarks and 40% off. I all but ran to the counter. I had my dorothy shoes.

So, Friday morning I wanted to wear them with my red and black ensemble. Left foot in! Right foot . . . . . . wouldn't go. I could not get the right shoe on. I was very confused. I checked the lable, still size 8. The shoes never left my sight in the shop - they were still the shoes I bought. I forced my foot in and realised I couldn't walk in them without ripping my ankle to shreds. I was very upset. Thing is, I know feet swell, but surely they are fatter at night, not in the morning? Surely, the shoes should have fit better in the morning?!!

They still wouldn't fit last night. I am sulking slightly. The answer? I am going to wrap a potatoe, shove it down the toe and leave on the radiator. Hopefully it will stretch slightly and my fat feet will get to fit into my beautiful new shoes!

Anyway, updates for 2nd Feb:-

Chest: - 36" or aprox. 92cm
Waist:- 31" or aprox. 79cm
Hips:- 39" or aprox. 99cm
weight:- 12 stone 5lbs
Height:- 5' 8"

This is quite a change now from the first week - I was expecting a bigger difference to be honest this week, or at least hoping. But it goes to show that watching your calorie intake and adding some light exercise into your day, really really does work!

So since the beginning, I have lost 2 inches on my chest, 3 inches on my waist, 3 inches on my hips and lost 10lbs!!!!!! The last bit makes me feel fabulous!

Right, I am off to fix those bloody shoes!

Nx