Serious apologies for no blogs for the last couple of weeks, this has been for a number of reasons.
Firstly, I've been, and still am, poorly sick. Had to take a couple of days off work last week as I wasnt functionning at all. Stayed in bed the monday, went home early on the tuesday, had to have a lie down in the staffroom for an hour on wednesday, and after breaking down crying on various members of staff in various corners of the school on thursday, I decided I needed to stay in bed on Friday! I am feeling a little better, but having put myself so far behind with work, think I have done a little too much, too soon. Now shattered again!
Thats why I am now lying in bed, once more reflecting on life.
I realised, as well as being told by steve, that my blog had lost its point. As much as I enjoy waffling crap about all aspects of love and life, I realised it had lost its essence. As had I. I have been feeling sapped (partly because of this virus) but of the goal I was striving towards. I had stopped thinking about food. Deliberately? I think so. Half term was my break, but I didn't go back. I started slipping. I stopped using my book, I stopped thinking about what was going into my food and my body, I stopped walking.
I knew I had to reboot myself - I could feel my emotions becoming irrational agian, feel my life spirit slowly ebbing away again. NO! This is NOT going to happen! So at weekend I remounted the scales - my weight has stayed constant for 2 weeks!!!! With not eating particularly well as all I want to eat is crap when I am ill, and with slobbing about I have somehow managed to stay the same weight. This is a first! So something must be working. I must be controlling my food and calories more than I realised. OK I haven't lost anymore weight in a few weeks, but at least I now know I can maintain a weight.
So, here we go again - back to thinking about food, and enjoying what I love. Not fixating on it to the point where it stresses me, but losing that extra stone! I was going to go for a walk this eveing while steve watched the football, but I feel the muscles in my face falling apart - if you do not know me, do not be alarmed! When I am ill or exhausted I am unable to control the muscles in my face, and everything literally drops, at the moment I can't really open my right eye for very long. So I decided to come to bed, quickly write this and have an early night - determined not to kill myself. Besides, friends of ours are getting married at the weekend and I want to be well enough to look fabulous and thinner in my pretty green dress!! So vain!
So todays weight is 12 stone 3 - bearing in mind this is the evening, it bodes well for the morning! I haven't calculated calories in a long time, I start this again tomorrow, it makes me stricter with my food - I actually care! The fact that I stopped writing everything down meant I stopped thinking. I often think I do such things like this because I am execting to fail. Its almost as if I plan to fail before I accidentally fail - so I am in control. I don't know if that makes sense? Its almost like a self preservation thing, a self destruct button.
Anyhoo, this evenings dinner was lovely - and back to good old healthy stuff. Firstly a morccan veg couscous. Onion, garlic, pepper, grated carrot, mushrooms and greens, cooked down with a splash of cider vinegar, salt, pepper, splash of lemon juice, moroccan spice (some jar we picked up) and some water. This was cooked until tender then removing the lid, allowed to evaporate. I just use Tesco cous-cous packets and the moroccan one is particularly good. I cooked this separately then added to the veg just before serving so that it didnt go too soggy and gloopy - there is nothing worse than gloopy cous-cous!
On top of this a had a tuna steak. Having splashed it with lime juice and soy sauce, then srinkled with black pepper and chili before making the cous-cous, I flash fried it in a dry pan, similar to how you would cook steak. Ok, I left it for a little bit too long, but my it was goooooooooooooooood!
Hope I feel better in the morning, and wake up with a sense of maintenance. This is proving quite hard to keep up, just because my motivation and will power are both quite weak. It takes very little to knock it. Most of my positive emotions take very little to knock. I don't know why. I think its pathetic that I need so much encouragement and assurance from people throughout my life, in various aspects. I wish I was a stronger person in my own mind. for a little while I was, and it was the food that was doing it.
I just have to get reaquainted with a very good friend.
Hope you are all well. and hope someone is still reading.
Nx
Showing posts with label confidence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label confidence. Show all posts
Tuesday, 4 March 2008
Tuesday, 12 February 2008
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
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
Saturday, 9 February 2008
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
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
Monday, 4 February 2008
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
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
Thursday, 31 January 2008
People Watching in Costa Coffee
I love people watching. Its a lovely hobby. Not rude if you dont make it obvious you are watching!!
This afternoon I thought I would have a little me-time. Every once and a while I like to take a couple of hours to myself and meander around shops. This was such a day. I also wanted some dorothy shoes! So, I left school before 4pm (exciting for me) and went to the Fort, a smallish retail park.
I had my lovely polka dot outfit on with teal co-ordinated items and little black pumps on. I also had THE green coat on which I love so, it makes me feel so sophisticated. In this dress, strutting my 12 stone 6 frame around the complex, I walked past costa coffee. It suddenly dawned on me I had never sat in a cafe, drank a cup of coffee or eaten on my own. Yes I have grabbed food from Greggs or something on my own, but never actually sat down and lazed over a cup of coffee and enjoyed my own, relaxed company. So, instead of walking past straight away, I walked in. Without even realising, I had ordered a small black coffee and a low fat panini (if that is actually possible - surely its and oxymoron?!), sat down in a corner chair, and watched the people passing by.
Suddenly I realised how content I felt. I was sat alone, loving my own company feeling naughty, yet fantastic being there. Some people might not think this is an achievement, but when you have suffered from pretty much no self esteem, it is huge. The idea of sitting alone was totally paranoid making - everyone was watching you thinking you were a saddo. I didn't feel like a saddo, and I knew no one was watching me - I was watching people!
I noticed two girls, early 30s maybe, walk in. I noticed them because of their gorgeous coats. Both heavy winter coats, down to the floor. They were also perfectly made up - straightened hair, make up, matching handbags. Vain yes, but you should not judge this in strangers. They sat down across the room, next to each other on a sofa, with their large lattes, no doubt with skinny, super low, no fat, no good milk (whatever posh name they give it, I dunno). They were engrossed in conversation on the second bite of my panini, when another woman, around the same age walked in. I noticed her because she had her son with her. I was convinced I had taught her son, was convinced, but I found myself staring at a young boy far too much than was appropriate, so returned to my coffee.
I glanced up again to see the mum and son approach the posh coated girls. She excitedly said "Hi!!! How lovely to see you both! What you doing?" Neither of the posh coated girls stood up. They smiled, looked at each other and engaged in what seemed to be limited conversation. Next time I looked up from the coffee cup, she had gone, the grils back to their deep gossip. However, the mum returned. I looked at her closely this time, she seemed a little dowdier than the other two, but I liked her more, she was obviously more down to earth. She asked Trinny and Suzannah if it was ok for her and her son to sit opposite them. "Oh god yeah! That would be great!" Trinny enthused. With a smile the nice lady returned to the counter to pay for her hot chocolates. I watched T and S. Hidden by a screen from the counter, they stared at each other open mouthed, shock and disgust on their faces. A quick, urgent whisper into one anothers ears, a rapid shaking of the head, a look that would crack a mirror; it said it all. They were vain. They should be judged on it.
How two faced and evil can women be? Less than 2 seconds after this poor girl had turned away, her so called friends were obviously bitching about her. Obviously recoiling at the idea she had dared to ask permission for her . . . and her SON, to sit opposite them. But they were having a jolly nice gossip about other people - how to ruin a lovely day! So the pretty coated ladies disappointed me, but actually, made me feel a little better.
I realised that I was far more than they were. I may have been bigger, I may not be in expensive clothes with matching handbags (mine was £4 from matalan!), I may not have their confidence and straight hair and make up, but my god I had so much more. Suddenly, they seemed drab, empty, nothing spectacular at all. I felt more confident than ever, I knew I had a personality that would outstrip them, I knew I was a better person, I knew that I wanted to go over to the woman and the son I thought I knew (I didnt) and invite them to my table. I wanted to know her, I wanted to talk interesting things with her. I wanted to let her know how beautiful she looked next to Skinny and Tranny. I didn't though.
I finished my coffee, brimming with confidence and ease, conscious that I did not want to radiate vanity and left the shop. Maybe I was wrong about the posh coated women, but to be honest I don't really care. It made me realise that I am not nothing, that there are traits about me which are likeable, even lovable. I realised I was someone who cared about people and that mattered, and if others don't like me - well, it does not matter. They were obviously not meant to be as happy as me.
So my lonely coffee turned out to be quite theraputic. Most people who undertake therapy have another human being to interact with. I just need people watching in costa coffee.
This afternoon I thought I would have a little me-time. Every once and a while I like to take a couple of hours to myself and meander around shops. This was such a day. I also wanted some dorothy shoes! So, I left school before 4pm (exciting for me) and went to the Fort, a smallish retail park.
I had my lovely polka dot outfit on with teal co-ordinated items and little black pumps on. I also had THE green coat on which I love so, it makes me feel so sophisticated. In this dress, strutting my 12 stone 6 frame around the complex, I walked past costa coffee. It suddenly dawned on me I had never sat in a cafe, drank a cup of coffee or eaten on my own. Yes I have grabbed food from Greggs or something on my own, but never actually sat down and lazed over a cup of coffee and enjoyed my own, relaxed company. So, instead of walking past straight away, I walked in. Without even realising, I had ordered a small black coffee and a low fat panini (if that is actually possible - surely its and oxymoron?!), sat down in a corner chair, and watched the people passing by.
Suddenly I realised how content I felt. I was sat alone, loving my own company feeling naughty, yet fantastic being there. Some people might not think this is an achievement, but when you have suffered from pretty much no self esteem, it is huge. The idea of sitting alone was totally paranoid making - everyone was watching you thinking you were a saddo. I didn't feel like a saddo, and I knew no one was watching me - I was watching people!
I noticed two girls, early 30s maybe, walk in. I noticed them because of their gorgeous coats. Both heavy winter coats, down to the floor. They were also perfectly made up - straightened hair, make up, matching handbags. Vain yes, but you should not judge this in strangers. They sat down across the room, next to each other on a sofa, with their large lattes, no doubt with skinny, super low, no fat, no good milk (whatever posh name they give it, I dunno). They were engrossed in conversation on the second bite of my panini, when another woman, around the same age walked in. I noticed her because she had her son with her. I was convinced I had taught her son, was convinced, but I found myself staring at a young boy far too much than was appropriate, so returned to my coffee.
I glanced up again to see the mum and son approach the posh coated girls. She excitedly said "Hi!!! How lovely to see you both! What you doing?" Neither of the posh coated girls stood up. They smiled, looked at each other and engaged in what seemed to be limited conversation. Next time I looked up from the coffee cup, she had gone, the grils back to their deep gossip. However, the mum returned. I looked at her closely this time, she seemed a little dowdier than the other two, but I liked her more, she was obviously more down to earth. She asked Trinny and Suzannah if it was ok for her and her son to sit opposite them. "Oh god yeah! That would be great!" Trinny enthused. With a smile the nice lady returned to the counter to pay for her hot chocolates. I watched T and S. Hidden by a screen from the counter, they stared at each other open mouthed, shock and disgust on their faces. A quick, urgent whisper into one anothers ears, a rapid shaking of the head, a look that would crack a mirror; it said it all. They were vain. They should be judged on it.
How two faced and evil can women be? Less than 2 seconds after this poor girl had turned away, her so called friends were obviously bitching about her. Obviously recoiling at the idea she had dared to ask permission for her . . . and her SON, to sit opposite them. But they were having a jolly nice gossip about other people - how to ruin a lovely day! So the pretty coated ladies disappointed me, but actually, made me feel a little better.
I realised that I was far more than they were. I may have been bigger, I may not be in expensive clothes with matching handbags (mine was £4 from matalan!), I may not have their confidence and straight hair and make up, but my god I had so much more. Suddenly, they seemed drab, empty, nothing spectacular at all. I felt more confident than ever, I knew I had a personality that would outstrip them, I knew I was a better person, I knew that I wanted to go over to the woman and the son I thought I knew (I didnt) and invite them to my table. I wanted to know her, I wanted to talk interesting things with her. I wanted to let her know how beautiful she looked next to Skinny and Tranny. I didn't though.
I finished my coffee, brimming with confidence and ease, conscious that I did not want to radiate vanity and left the shop. Maybe I was wrong about the posh coated women, but to be honest I don't really care. It made me realise that I am not nothing, that there are traits about me which are likeable, even lovable. I realised I was someone who cared about people and that mattered, and if others don't like me - well, it does not matter. They were obviously not meant to be as happy as me.
So my lonely coffee turned out to be quite theraputic. Most people who undertake therapy have another human being to interact with. I just need people watching in costa coffee.
Wednesday, 23 January 2008
Look at My Man-Bits!! (metaphorically, obviously!)
Tonight, on my way home from school, I stopped into Sainsburys. At the checkout I had three bottles of vinegar, four tubs of Bi-carb, two bags of balloons, carrot sticks with humous, and . . . . A NEW SKIRT!!
Ok, so you may be focusing on the vast amounts of vinegar and Bi-carb - I assure you it is for a science experiment at school, as well as the balloons! We are going to make exploding cannons on Monday! Yey! Very few people can call that work!
Anyway, I am focusing on the new skirt! I promised myself I wasn't going to buy clothes until I had lost a stone and a half, but I was desperate for something pretty. I am so pleased with how the whole weight thing is going, and the lack of binging, that I couldn't resist. That, and the fact that there was 70% off!! Anyway, I wasn't sure what I could possibly wear it with at the moment, or where! But having a play around, tomorrow I am going to be brave! This is what I am going to wear to work tomorrow:
I have never worn a skirt-trouser combo, and my hips feel small enough to pull it off for the first time. I am sure I will have some questionable looks from people, but quite frankly I don't give a stuff! Hey look at that . . . I grew some balls!!
Nx
Tuesday, 22 January 2008
No Use Crying Over Spilt Teriyaki
Yet again I was playing master chef. Steve was not feeling too good so I thought I would try and cheer him up with, in my mind, what I do best; food. I decided to make an onion based cous-cous, stir fried veg (done in toasted sesame oil), and strips of Teriyaki chicken (done on the George). The big plates came out, I successfully moulded the couscous into a master chef style mounds, the veg was tastefully displayed at the foot of each couscous tower, and the strips of teriyaki chicken were constructed into a tee-pee over the couscous! Very impressive I thought. I smelt good, it looked . . . interesting, I was actually quite excited about my tea!
Not quite so masterchef-like was our then laziness in having tea in bed!! Yes, this may seem disgustingly slobbish, but sometimes its necessary. However, Snoopy had another idea. I love my snoopy slippers, but I forget I can't actually walk in them. I scaled the stairs, a lovingly designed dinner in either hand, just one more step to go when Snoopy raised his evil head! As in slow motion I watched the plates fly through the air, I watched the waterfall of beansprouts and poultry pause momentarily mid flight, as I crumpled down onto my knee and elbow (on the edge of a step) There was CRACK! that echoed the break in my heart!
I must have sat staring at the mountainous mess and broken ceramics on the floor and wall for a good couple of minutes. I couldn't believe it. Steve stood looking on apologetically as if he had been the one who told snoopy to play such a wicked trick. And then I started to cry. There has been so much going on in my head of late it was as if, all of a sudden, the licks of brown juice on my skirting board were just the final blow. Whilst trying to pick out the grains of couscous in my carpet, I sobbed, thinking, "Is this a metaphor for our dreams?" (Ok, just so you don't think I'm totally melodramatic; various dreams of people have recently been quashed or come into serious question, including mine). Was this beautiful, now inedible, pile of mulch the proof that had been looming for so long. Was this dinner disaster telling me that dreams are not supposed to be fulfilled? Just as I was destined never to eat my chicken terriyaki?
Sobbing still, picking myself up on my scuffed knee and bruised elbow, I carried the matted hair, floor nast and (probably) toe nail flavoured coucous back down the stairs in a mournful procession. As I poured the remains into my compost pot, Steve came and wrapped his arms around me. He gently wiped away the running mascara on my cheek and gave me a kiss. This made me see the coucous mess in another way. Maybe it wasn't a metaphor that dreams cannot be reached at all. Maybe I had misread it. Maybe it meant our dreams could be reached if we are desperate enough - If we can put up with the crap that comes with reaching the goal, If we can eat the chicken along with the carpet fluff and meters of hair? Dreams should be hard to reach, and sometimes unpleasant on the way. It makes the satisfaction of reaching them all the better.
Starving still, out came the prawns and another sachet of coucous (I like it!). Cooked off the onions again, added some veg and garilc and left my couscous to cook. As I piri-piried my prawns I started thinking differently again. Maybe not ALL dreams are achieveable but it doesn't mean you shouldn't have them. Just change your ambitions, change your dreams. Change to piri-piri prawns! Ok, they may not be what you originally wanted, they may not seem as appealing, but my god, when you reach them you feel better then ever.
For now, I will just have to dream of my chicken teriyaki . . . . as I need to buy more chicken!
Nx
Not quite so masterchef-like was our then laziness in having tea in bed!! Yes, this may seem disgustingly slobbish, but sometimes its necessary. However, Snoopy had another idea. I love my snoopy slippers, but I forget I can't actually walk in them. I scaled the stairs, a lovingly designed dinner in either hand, just one more step to go when Snoopy raised his evil head! As in slow motion I watched the plates fly through the air, I watched the waterfall of beansprouts and poultry pause momentarily mid flight, as I crumpled down onto my knee and elbow (on the edge of a step) There was CRACK! that echoed the break in my heart!
I must have sat staring at the mountainous mess and broken ceramics on the floor and wall for a good couple of minutes. I couldn't believe it. Steve stood looking on apologetically as if he had been the one who told snoopy to play such a wicked trick. And then I started to cry. There has been so much going on in my head of late it was as if, all of a sudden, the licks of brown juice on my skirting board were just the final blow. Whilst trying to pick out the grains of couscous in my carpet, I sobbed, thinking, "Is this a metaphor for our dreams?" (Ok, just so you don't think I'm totally melodramatic; various dreams of people have recently been quashed or come into serious question, including mine). Was this beautiful, now inedible, pile of mulch the proof that had been looming for so long. Was this dinner disaster telling me that dreams are not supposed to be fulfilled? Just as I was destined never to eat my chicken terriyaki?
Sobbing still, picking myself up on my scuffed knee and bruised elbow, I carried the matted hair, floor nast and (probably) toe nail flavoured coucous back down the stairs in a mournful procession. As I poured the remains into my compost pot, Steve came and wrapped his arms around me. He gently wiped away the running mascara on my cheek and gave me a kiss. This made me see the coucous mess in another way. Maybe it wasn't a metaphor that dreams cannot be reached at all. Maybe I had misread it. Maybe it meant our dreams could be reached if we are desperate enough - If we can put up with the crap that comes with reaching the goal, If we can eat the chicken along with the carpet fluff and meters of hair? Dreams should be hard to reach, and sometimes unpleasant on the way. It makes the satisfaction of reaching them all the better.
Starving still, out came the prawns and another sachet of coucous (I like it!). Cooked off the onions again, added some veg and garilc and left my couscous to cook. As I piri-piried my prawns I started thinking differently again. Maybe not ALL dreams are achieveable but it doesn't mean you shouldn't have them. Just change your ambitions, change your dreams. Change to piri-piri prawns! Ok, they may not be what you originally wanted, they may not seem as appealing, but my god, when you reach them you feel better then ever.
For now, I will just have to dream of my chicken teriyaki . . . . as I need to buy more chicken!
Nx
Sunday, 20 January 2008
Naked Twister in Rio
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Trust is a funny old thing. Take Steve; I trust him completely, whole heartedly and without question. When Caroline came to stay with us for a while before Christmas, Steve went out with his old work colleagues. "I'll be home for 7 . . . 8 at the latest," he had assured me. I wasn't particularly bothered when he wasn't home when I went to bed at 1.30am. I knew he was at Kath and Rich's.
He apparently came in about 2, promptly sat on Carloine on the sofa and fell asleep, full length on top of her while watching Pride and Prejudice. Around 5 he woke up and came to bed - I didn't even stir. I joked in the morning that it was a good job I trusted him, not many women would be happy about their other half falling asleep atop another woman!
Tonight he was entering a poker tournament, the winning prize: a trip for two to Rio. The trip however was in term time and while dreaming over his potential winnings said he would take Caroline. This again, I have no issue with, even when he was saying he would like to take her to Rio and play naked twister with her! Steve is not a perve, he likes to say these things to gauge my reactions I think!! It made me giggle, it made Caoline wince a little I think when I told her, mainly as she has had an aversion to twister since childhood! Some bad, naked experience as a teenager? Guess that one had been supressed as deeply as she could!
Anyway, I trust Steve entirely. I trust Caroline with my life. I trust that certain things in life will be as they should. I trust that if you are a good person, good things will happen in your life. I trust that if you love, you will be loved in return. However, I am not very good at trusting myself.
I don't trust my intelligence. This evening I burst into tears while Steve was teaching me a new card game. I didn't grow up playing what I would class as 'intelligent' games, and whenever faced with something that I feel is beyond my intelligence I panic. For some reason card games are part of this - I like snap! I know this may sound daft to people but I do doubt myself on a seemingly hourly basis.
I don't trust myself to buy a box of chocolates and not eat the entire lot in 5 minutes. I don't trust myself to eat sensibly when cooking for one. I don't trust myself to actually take care of my body. I don't trust myself to see through something that is dificult. I don't trust myself to have the motivation to continue with this life change.
But I am learning and I am gradually getting better. My confidence is growing, but any slight draw back will necessitate a total rebuild. I don't know if I have always been like this or if it is something I have developed as an adult. There are so many things that I genuinely believe I can't do. I can't take compliments, I don't do too well with praise - why? I dunno.
Ive started to believe it is all linked to how I feel about my body. The bigger I am the less confidence and trust I have in any part of my life. So this positive change is bound to help, and hopefully, well I think ineviatbly, I will be able to take on anything!
As for Steve's winnings? Well, Rio will have to wait. There might be some room for naked twister though.
Night.
Nx
Wednesday, 16 January 2008
What a Difference a Day Makes
Interesting day. Yet again woke up feeling well rested and brave! I quite like this new feeling in me, I've never really felt brave before. Ok, with all things considered, choosing a slightly different outfit is hardly brave. Its not exactly climbing Everest or fighting in Iraq or eating a Big Mac; all those things need real, true bravery. But ths is bravery for me.
So, I donned my black trousers (which usually have rolls of muffin top sticking over them), my new (yes I spent money! oops) long black polka dot top over a red vesty thing, and tightened myself up with my new red belt. I felt fantastic!! I marched around school all day with tons of confidence! Within five minutes of walking down a corridor, five people all stopped me to say how lovely I looked. Head swelling and ego fighting back, I could feel my confidence and 'fit body fit mind' ideals shining out of me. One of my colleagues even said she was going to bring me in some shoes to match the outfit as they didn't fit her! Excellent!!
I know this all sounds massively bigheaded but it's such a long time since I felt that good. From side on I thought I looked quite slender and from front on I had a waist!! Although, I did realise I could no longer sit down!! God help all those poor women that wear corsets etc, one small belt was enough for me! Every time I sat down I felt like I had a rod up my back trying to stop the cascade of flab over the belt! This will do wonders for my posture!
Anyway, I left work early today so I could go home and flounce about the house feeling fabulous and spend some time with Steve. However, I don't quite know what happened but this wonderful, addictive feeling I've had all day just seemed to . . . evaporate.
I got out of my new favourite outfit and put on my jeans and big baggy top. Suddenly I was a frump again. Suddenly I felt fat again, suddenly I felt like a complete waste of space. It wasn't the clothes, I could feel I was on my way down anyway. Now its taking all my energy not to go to the mini tesco and buy a hoard of crap to eat. I really really really want to stuff my mouth with something thick and creamy and chocolatey. I want to feel like I did this morning. I just don't know why it changed.
Tea was awful. I had no motivation to cook anything interesting. I did attempt to make a healthy veggie sauce to go with gnocchi and chicken (done on my George). The chicken was lovely, the sauce and gnocchi was somewhere between baby food and the bottom of a compost bin. Not pleasant. So I am now also starving which is not helping with my overwhelming craving to binge. Not sure I am going to be able to stop myself - I just have to try and stay in the house, might not be an idea to go for a walk tonight. Such a weak excuse.
Anyway, calorie count today is around 1200 although I only ate half my tea so count probably closer to 1000. Need something else to eat but have little motivation.
Sorry to be so melancholoy, I am aware there are more important things in life. I just can't believe how shallow I am that an outfit can alter my entire being. This is all a hell of a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.
Tata for now.
Nx
So, I donned my black trousers (which usually have rolls of muffin top sticking over them), my new (yes I spent money! oops) long black polka dot top over a red vesty thing, and tightened myself up with my new red belt. I felt fantastic!! I marched around school all day with tons of confidence! Within five minutes of walking down a corridor, five people all stopped me to say how lovely I looked. Head swelling and ego fighting back, I could feel my confidence and 'fit body fit mind' ideals shining out of me. One of my colleagues even said she was going to bring me in some shoes to match the outfit as they didn't fit her! Excellent!!
I know this all sounds massively bigheaded but it's such a long time since I felt that good. From side on I thought I looked quite slender and from front on I had a waist!! Although, I did realise I could no longer sit down!! God help all those poor women that wear corsets etc, one small belt was enough for me! Every time I sat down I felt like I had a rod up my back trying to stop the cascade of flab over the belt! This will do wonders for my posture!
Anyway, I left work early today so I could go home and flounce about the house feeling fabulous and spend some time with Steve. However, I don't quite know what happened but this wonderful, addictive feeling I've had all day just seemed to . . . evaporate.
I got out of my new favourite outfit and put on my jeans and big baggy top. Suddenly I was a frump again. Suddenly I felt fat again, suddenly I felt like a complete waste of space. It wasn't the clothes, I could feel I was on my way down anyway. Now its taking all my energy not to go to the mini tesco and buy a hoard of crap to eat. I really really really want to stuff my mouth with something thick and creamy and chocolatey. I want to feel like I did this morning. I just don't know why it changed.
Tea was awful. I had no motivation to cook anything interesting. I did attempt to make a healthy veggie sauce to go with gnocchi and chicken (done on my George). The chicken was lovely, the sauce and gnocchi was somewhere between baby food and the bottom of a compost bin. Not pleasant. So I am now also starving which is not helping with my overwhelming craving to binge. Not sure I am going to be able to stop myself - I just have to try and stay in the house, might not be an idea to go for a walk tonight. Such a weak excuse.
Anyway, calorie count today is around 1200 although I only ate half my tea so count probably closer to 1000. Need something else to eat but have little motivation.
Sorry to be so melancholoy, I am aware there are more important things in life. I just can't believe how shallow I am that an outfit can alter my entire being. This is all a hell of a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.
Tata for now.
Nx
Monday, 14 January 2008
Belts and B*tches
Hooray!! The last week has done a little I suppose - not really sure how much is appropriate to lose in one week. This morning I was 12 stone 12!! Hooray!!! It made me quite cheery so today I got a little more 'daring' with my outfit. I put on the black dress that had previously prompted 'those' looks, with quite a 50s looking teal cardy over the top. I then used the belt of the dress to sinch in my waist a little over the top of the cardigan. Matched with my high heels I felt confident and happy when I left the house.
Once I took off the never fail green coat, I started to feel a little anxious. I knew one of the first people I would see would be the woman who had me feel so monstrous on the dress' last outing. With courage, my chin held high, my waist belted and my stomach sucked in as far as it was humanly possible, I entered the room where she, and other evil eyed people were. "Morning Nat," echoed the voices. And that was it. No looks either evil or complimentary. As I'm not their biggest fan at the best of times, this pleased me. At least I didn't look so bad that I had to be judged on the spot. The fact that they said nothing positive doesnt really matter - thats just par for the course I think. However, another colleague came in to my room at the end of the day just to tell methey thought I looked lovely today. This made everything worth it!!
This however, did not help my bank balance so much. Filled with my rebuilding confidence, I floated into Sainsbury's on the way home where I bought a new top and three new belts!!!! I figure if I'm getting my waist back I may as well try and draw some attention to it. However, one of the belts does need taking back as it is too big!!!! I couldn't be bothered taking my coat off to try it on - that'll teach me to be lazy!
Anyhoo, calorie content a little higher tonight as I made pork penang, so I'm currently on 1300 calories. Nice mug of turkish delight options later (only 34 calories a cup!!) should fnish the day off perfectly.
Back to trackies though tomorrow - can you wear a polka dot top and teal belt with those?
Nx
Once I took off the never fail green coat, I started to feel a little anxious. I knew one of the first people I would see would be the woman who had me feel so monstrous on the dress' last outing. With courage, my chin held high, my waist belted and my stomach sucked in as far as it was humanly possible, I entered the room where she, and other evil eyed people were. "Morning Nat," echoed the voices. And that was it. No looks either evil or complimentary. As I'm not their biggest fan at the best of times, this pleased me. At least I didn't look so bad that I had to be judged on the spot. The fact that they said nothing positive doesnt really matter - thats just par for the course I think. However, another colleague came in to my room at the end of the day just to tell methey thought I looked lovely today. This made everything worth it!!
This however, did not help my bank balance so much. Filled with my rebuilding confidence, I floated into Sainsbury's on the way home where I bought a new top and three new belts!!!! I figure if I'm getting my waist back I may as well try and draw some attention to it. However, one of the belts does need taking back as it is too big!!!! I couldn't be bothered taking my coat off to try it on - that'll teach me to be lazy!
Anyhoo, calorie content a little higher tonight as I made pork penang, so I'm currently on 1300 calories. Nice mug of turkish delight options later (only 34 calories a cup!!) should fnish the day off perfectly.
Back to trackies though tomorrow - can you wear a polka dot top and teal belt with those?
Nx
Sunday, 13 January 2008
Vertically Challenged
Fun was definitly had this weekend in Newcastle, food was relatively healthy, however, I do think Ernest and Jullio have not helped with the losing of weight over the last 48 hours! However, a little rose and a little bubbles was much needed as I went ot help Cie pack some of her stuff. I have attached a couple fo pics from last night in my favourite dress and coat. They always make me feel so good about myself, and I felt good in my own skin last night. The coat, however, is still a little tight as you can see, but I didn't care! I even think I look ok in the photies, and I know exactly what people will say, "What are you wanting to lose weight for, you look ok?" But I don't underneath. I am 2 stone heavier than I wish to be, my stomach goes out from underneath my boobs!! It is not a good look. 
A similar argument people say to me when informed of my 13 stone, is "But you're tall, it's ok!" Yes, ok, I am nearly 5'9", ok yes, if I was 5'4" then we would be facing a different problem, ok yes, I am taller than some people including 4 out of 5 male colleagues, ok yes, as Elena says, I carry a lot of my weight on my boobs, but height cannot be an excuse to keep eating! If you are not happy about how you look it doesn't matter a damn about your height. I love being tall and will mostly choose to wear heels as well, but if my stomach is arching outwards, making me slightly larger than some pregnant women, there is not a pair of shoes high enough to make me feel good about how I look.
A similar argument people say to me when informed of my 13 stone, is "But you're tall, it's ok!" Yes, ok, I am nearly 5'9", ok yes, if I was 5'4" then we would be facing a different problem, ok yes, I am taller than some people including 4 out of 5 male colleagues, ok yes, as Elena says, I carry a lot of my weight on my boobs, but height cannot be an excuse to keep eating! If you are not happy about how you look it doesn't matter a damn about your height. I love being tall and will mostly choose to wear heels as well, but if my stomach is arching outwards, making me slightly larger than some pregnant women, there is not a pair of shoes high enough to make me feel good about how I look.
But I did feel good about how I looked last night, and with caroline in her gorgeouse red tulip dress, we set out for the Flat Bread Cafe. This is a new restaurant in newcastle which apparently has plans to role out over the rest of the UK. It was incredible. They have an eclectic menu of dishes from peru, morocco and various other places. You chose three, along with your flatbread and you just tuck in. So between us we had six incredible dishes including turkey tagine, jerk fish, a monkfish dish, all beautifully cooked. We poured a glass of rose each and then part way through the meal Cie pointed out we hadn't even touched the wine. that is a sign of the kind of people we are, we are foody people, and the scientific analysis of our food (trying to work out what ingredients were used) had prevented us from taking a single sip of the pink stuff. If you are ever in the toon you must hunt it out, I forget where exactly it is, down some cobbledy street, but keep a look out for it!
So, I haven't kept a count of the calories for the last couple of days, but I have been strict on myself. I am very nervous about tomorrow as I am going to get on the scales again and see what has happened to me since last Saturday. I am looking forward to it but very scared in case the expected doesnt occur.
Fingers crossed!
Nx
Saturday, 12 January 2008
Prostitutes Can't Read (and other sweeping generalisations)
Yes, this was actually said by Erika on Thursday morning! Basically she had decided to wear a dress for school. As I pick her up from the train station in the morning, she has to stand on the street corner, so, as she wished not to be confused with a prostitute (because you can at 7 in the morning whilst wearing a trenchcoat and shoulder bag) she decided to read her book. This however did not prevent an old man parking up along the street to wolf whistle her!!
When collected, she informed me that by reading a book it would differentiate between prositute and someone who is waiting for a lift as, "Prostitutes Can't Read." High level prostitutes or 'escorts' can only read The Sun! This made me giggle quite a lot!
Anyway, my reason for mentioning this is that I was totally impressed with her fashion choice of the day. I always envy people who wear dresses to work - Cie wore an evening dress to her job the other day just because she could!! I would love to be able to wear dresses to work. I wore one once - a black 1950s style, sleevless shirt dress that I wore with a short turquoise cardigan. I felt fabulous in the dress. But when a colleague looked me up and down in the derogatory manner in which only a woman can, I never wore it again.
I would love to have the confidence to wear slightly unusual things for work and not give a stuff about what 'they' think. After Erika's outfit (which she looked so gorgeous in with ankle strap high heels), and Caroline's constant flambouyant work attire (let's face it, it's far more flambouyant than anything I own!) I thought I might get myself a dress when I lost a few more pounds.
Then, yesterday - and this excited me - I could suck my stomach in again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is a BIG deal!! I could also feel that my waist was feeling a little tighter. Caroline said she could tell I had lost weight already and was looking better than when she saw me last. This caused me to bounce around her bedroom and hug her repeatedly - it made me feel so good! Cie, in fits of giggles watching me, said she liked how my boobs jiggled when I bounced as hers didn't do that! I meerly pointed out that my where holding more weight than hers! Hopefully not for long!
Anyway, so with the whole dress thing and the feeling much better about how I looked already, I decided that today in Newcastle I would find myself a dress for work! Yipee! I thought. Only to remember why I hated clothes shopping in January. The shops, resembling an oversized jumble sale, are too full of people and the clothes that you find are either in a size 10 or 22. Neither of which fit Caroline or I. I very quickly gave up.
However, I refuse to give up on the idea of expanding my wardrobe, to find an eclectic fashion sense, to feel confident in what I'm wearing and not to give a rat's ass what anyone else might think! With pro-active behaviour comes confidence, with confidence comes happiness, with happiness comes the will to do great things!
Have a lovely weekend,
Nx
When collected, she informed me that by reading a book it would differentiate between prositute and someone who is waiting for a lift as, "Prostitutes Can't Read." High level prostitutes or 'escorts' can only read The Sun! This made me giggle quite a lot!
Anyway, my reason for mentioning this is that I was totally impressed with her fashion choice of the day. I always envy people who wear dresses to work - Cie wore an evening dress to her job the other day just because she could!! I would love to be able to wear dresses to work. I wore one once - a black 1950s style, sleevless shirt dress that I wore with a short turquoise cardigan. I felt fabulous in the dress. But when a colleague looked me up and down in the derogatory manner in which only a woman can, I never wore it again.
I would love to have the confidence to wear slightly unusual things for work and not give a stuff about what 'they' think. After Erika's outfit (which she looked so gorgeous in with ankle strap high heels), and Caroline's constant flambouyant work attire (let's face it, it's far more flambouyant than anything I own!) I thought I might get myself a dress when I lost a few more pounds.
Then, yesterday - and this excited me - I could suck my stomach in again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is a BIG deal!! I could also feel that my waist was feeling a little tighter. Caroline said she could tell I had lost weight already and was looking better than when she saw me last. This caused me to bounce around her bedroom and hug her repeatedly - it made me feel so good! Cie, in fits of giggles watching me, said she liked how my boobs jiggled when I bounced as hers didn't do that! I meerly pointed out that my where holding more weight than hers! Hopefully not for long!
Anyway, so with the whole dress thing and the feeling much better about how I looked already, I decided that today in Newcastle I would find myself a dress for work! Yipee! I thought. Only to remember why I hated clothes shopping in January. The shops, resembling an oversized jumble sale, are too full of people and the clothes that you find are either in a size 10 or 22. Neither of which fit Caroline or I. I very quickly gave up.
However, I refuse to give up on the idea of expanding my wardrobe, to find an eclectic fashion sense, to feel confident in what I'm wearing and not to give a rat's ass what anyone else might think! With pro-active behaviour comes confidence, with confidence comes happiness, with happiness comes the will to do great things!
Have a lovely weekend,
Nx
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