Pre-Holiday Failure

It is the week before I head off for a Moroccan adventure with the man, and alas, all good intentions of No-Spend-September and Slim-tober have completely and utterly failed. So I embark on a last minute campaign to flatten my tummy before I have to be wear a bikini.

I truly and honestly had every good intention of behaving myself the past few months, however temptation in the form of booze (both paid and free), food and staying indoors has just been far too strong for me.

27 Today

Today with much trepidation I turned 27.. leaving the era of "mid-twenties" behind and officially entering my "late-twenties".

I feel that a lady of my age, should perhaps be a little less excited about my birthday.  But this morning at 6 am I was awake and knocking on my parents door (that's right.. 27, single and living with my parents) to see what presents awaited me.

The sad thing is as you get older, the less fuss is made, when really I think more fuss should be made. I mean, I have survived 27 years in this dangerous world. A ten year old has only made ten.  Surely I have more reason to celebrate than them?

An entitlement to celebrate myself and the year that has been I think is completely valid.

So today I celebrate that since I turned 26 I have:

• Left my crappy supermarket job and got a real job
• Erased my debt with UK credit card providers, Australian credit card providers and Bank of Daddy
• Been on 4 dates
• Kissed only 3 boys
• Resolved to stop allowing unworthy gentleman access to my lady parts (and hence have gone through many packets of batteries)
• Completed half of a diploma in journalism and feature writing
• Almost decided on what I want to do with my life
• Put on 7 kilos and lost 4 (3 to go! Woo!)
• Attended 1 High School Reunion
• Battled with a stubborn case of adult acne
• Got my very first family dog.. in fact my very first family pet ever
• Have welcomed 4 friends babies into the world
• Seen 6 of my lovely friends deal with nasty break-ups
• Have been on 3 awesome trips – Bundaberg, Sydney & Byron
• Watched many, many hours of The Tudors, Gossip Girl, How I Met Your Mother, Big Bang Theory and Modern Family
• Spent countless hours daydreaming about the men of The Tudors and Gossip Girl (Chuck Bass, if you're reading.. feel free to have your way with me)

So as I prepare for a lovely home-cooked birthday dinner with traditional birthday trifle I’m thinking, despite first appearances, I’ve actually done alright for myself this year.

The Downside of Exercise?

In my 26.5 years I have found precisely two forms of exercise that I enjoy.

One, involves music, and moving my feet and getting sweaty to the beats of salsa, merengue, forro, bachata, gaffeira and samba, or wrapping my legs around a pole and swinging. 

The second involves wrapping my legs around a different sort of pole, and also getting rather sweaty. 

After a year of near-celibacy (apart from 3 delicious encounters) and a back injury that put an end to any dreams I had of becoming an exotic dancer I’ve decided to do something about my now flabby thighs and muffin top by returning to the latin scene with Zumba.

Tonight I went with Lady Smash and it was brilliant. Exhausting but brilliant. However, whilst I am delighted at the prospect of having cellulite free legs and a non-wobbly bottom, I have a very deep fear.

I am terrified that I will lose my boobs.  The girls, since their sudden appearance in 2005, have been very good to me, assisting me in getting free mechanic repairs on my car, free drinks, service at crowded bars and intimidating my colleagues.  They were, I thought, my meal ticket to the good life.

What happens if all this exercise shrinks them back to their early twenties state? I’ll lose my ego-boost that I get from having the girls proudly on display.  Because let’s face it, it’s always the FIRST place you lose weight.  I think it would be a truly wonderful thing if you could tell your body… “Please take the muffin top from my waist and transplant it evenly onto my right and left breasts, thank you”.

So readers, you may think I’m silly, but it would be like losing part of your personality.

I suppose the fantastic legs will make up for it in the end. And if the worst happens… well boob job it is.

Starving...

For the first time in my life I am on a proper diet.  I’ve reached that unfortunate age where my metabolism has slowed down and I can now no longer eat what I like.

Devastation.  Even more devastation when I realise that I can no longer zip up the majority of my jeans. So on a diet I have gone.

I’m not coping very well.  I’m tired, irritable and have had a headache for four days (although this is more likely due to my neck being out).  I’m dreaming about food.  Not only that but I have felt that I am likely to burst into tears at any given moment over the littlest things.  Like getting pen on my hands or my banana having a spot on it.

What I wouldn’t give right now for some Chicken McNuggets, or a Big Mac, a meat pie, a sausage roll, a croissant with ham and cheese, a cinnamon scroll or a packet of Twisties.  Instead I have been eating salads and low fat yoghurts and FRUIT (which by the way turns out is FULL of calories! Deceitful bastard of a banana).

Am hoping that eventually it may be all worth it, cause no man is going to fancy a girl with a bottom the size of Mongolia and a stomach that looks like it is gestating a foetus.  But honestly, the way I’m feeling right now I almost feel like I’d rather be a little bit fat.

Crazy Health Nuts

For as long as I can remember, my eating habits have been the topic of much discussion in my workplaces. 

It all started when I worked at on Organic Foodstore when I was at University.  They tried and tried to convert me to organic this, supplement that, fruit fruit veg veg.  And after 7 years of working there I did not change.

When I worked in London my “London Mummies” as I like to call them (the lovely ladies who worked in my department) used to despair over my dietary choices.  However my dietary choices during these years of my life were mainly made on the basis of “what can I buy for 50p?”  In the end they bribed me with a star chart (I’m rather easily pleased) and I would get a star for every piece of fruit I ate. 

Now I work in a company where the directors are very eco-conscious, health conscious etc. I see my boss look at me in disgust when I proclaim that a Chico Roll is a tasty treat after a night out. 

But you know what – I KNOW perfectly well what is healthy and not healthy. I KNOW my diet is not perfect, but I am trying to do better.  I do not like fruit very much. I will at vegetables because I have to, not because I want to. My weekend diet of Vodka and chips suits me just fine. 

Yes it makes me a little bit fat, yes I’m sure that I’ve got mercury poisoning from eating tinned tuna (for CRYING OUT LOUD can’t we do ANYTHING anymore?). I don’t care!  I like delicious fatty tasty food. Preferably in pastry.  If I had my way I’d live on a diet of red meat and potatoes. 

So please stop pestering me. I am doing just fine!

2000 – 2009: A Decade In Review

Today is the 2nd of January 2010.  The second day of the year and the second day of the new decade.

The “Noughties” was a decade of change for me.

2000: Year 12, don’t work as hard as I should have but received good grades nonetheless. Am awkward looking, all legs, ass and arms as boobs have not yet arrived.  Awful fashion sense.  Very sad to leave school.

2001: Started university.  Studying (to my dismay) business, when would have rather been studying at NIDA or similar.  Think about leaving but decide to stick it out as was the easy thing to do.  Hoped to make lots of new friends at university, but found that it was as cliquey as High School.

2002: Year two of university.  Change my major from Tourism (pft.. what a joke) to International Business.  Decide that I want to travel. Obtain drivers license and first car – a 1987 Toyota Cressida with blue velour interior. Pa dies. 

2003: Final year of university.  Finish degree successfully, but having not tried nearly as hard as I should have.  Finally hook up with boy I had had crush on for year.  Boobs arrive. 

2004: Embark on a camping trip of Europe and see things I have dreamed about seeing all my life. Travel to Dublin, France, Spain, Andorra, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, Corfu, Germany, Liechtenstein. Set out on my new life in London but quickly find that it was more expensive that I thought and had no chance of getting a decent job.  Return home with tail between legs.  Get job in Real Estate.  Turn 21.

2005: A bleak year where I realise coming home from London was stupidest thing I had ever done.  Despise my job.  Take up Latin Dancing and quickly become very good at it. See Meat Loaf in concert. 

2006: Have nervous breakdown and run away from Sunshine Coast.  Arrive Terminal 1 Heathrow 19th June.  Bum around for awhile.  Go to Prague, Liverpool. Live in a hostel. Have heaps of fun drinking.  Hook up with lots of boys.  First cold Christmas. Work in a bookstore.

2007: Meet THE-Ex and start a disastrous 2 year love affair destined to end in tears.  Travel to Amsterdam, Dublin, Croatia.  Get a job in television.  Meet some of the best friends I have ever had. Spend Christmas in Scottish Highlands alone as THE-Ex was off cheating on me on a ski trip. 

2008: Move out of hostel into The Vale.  Ditch THE-Ex.  Meet the loveliest boy in the world, who I treated terribly.  Travel to Turkey, Oktoberfest, Copenhagen, Sweden, La Tomatina Festival and all around the UK.  Meet some more of the best friends I have ever had.  Do good in career. Start seeing THE-Ex again.  Leave London in a blaze of glory to return home.  Turn 25. Job prospects look bleak.  Very depressed end to the year.  But best New Years Eve ever.

2009: Go to Perth, have heart broken by THE-Ex again.  Spend a miserable 6 months on the dole due to the Global Financial Crisis.  Granny dies. Get job in supermarket.  Meet some friends at job, but find my soul slowly dying from mindless, monotonous job.  Turn 26.  Pleasant Christmas & New Years. Finally get a career job to start on January 4th. 

So that’s my decade in review.  Bring on the next decade, which there still seems to be much debate as to what we are calling it.  The teens? The tens?  I hope someone decides soon. 

New Years Resolutions

New Years Resolutions.  Made in good faith this time every year and destined to be broken by February.

My list is similar each year and somewhat resembles one of my favourite heroine Bridget Jones’.  Each year I fail miserably.  It was on the news just the other day that it is pointless to make them because 90% of people don’t stick to them. 

2010 is looking like a promising year for me so my resolutions this year are going to reflect my new full and happy life.

1. Lose a bit of weight.  Which was successfully achieved during 2009, however have put it all back on again during the birthday/Christmas festiveness.

2. I would like to complete the Beginners Italian CD course that I purchased on a New Years resolution whim in 2005. 

3. I will astound my new bosses in my job, and strive to do my very best at all times. Even when hung over and all want to do it crawl under desk with a pillow.  I will not be lazy and avoid doing work by doing tea rounds, but tackle everything head on.  After a year on unemployment and working in a supermarket I will not complain about having a lovely office job ever again.

4. I will stop letting men sleep with me whenever they want and instead try this “hard to get” business I hear so much about. 

5. I will try and eat more fruits and vegetables. This is on the list every year and every year I fail because I just don’t like them. Broccoli – Blugh!

6. I will move out of my parents home.  As it is just depressing to be living at home at the age of 27.  This will also lead to family relations improving, stress levels decreasing and an improvement in my love life. 

7. I will make more of an effort to catch up with friends, instead of idly laying in bed watching DVD’s and moaning about being bored.

8. I will spend less time on facebook and on my computer farting around, unless I am actually doing something productive like writing for the blog or writing my book. 

9. I will save all my pennies to enable travel to the UK to visit my lovely London family.

10. I will not sulk about being single, but develop inner pose and authority and sense of self as woman of substance, complete without man, as best way to obtain man*

Auld Land Syme!

*This is stolen directly from Bridget Jones Diary by Helen Fielding.  I think this is one of my favourite resolutions of all time.

No, I’m Not Pregnant, Just A Little Bit Fat

I am currently on a bit of a diet. Which started when one of the butchers at work said to me that there was a rumour going round work that I am pregnant.

This is the wrong thing to say to a woman for two reasons:

1. She will automatically feel fat
2. She will start doing period math in her head and wondering if perhaps she is pregnant and start to panic.

So, with the extreme unlikelihood that I am actually knocked up (heaven forbid, touch wood!), I must come to the conclusion that I am just a little bit fat. I have developed a wine baby. 

The only plus side to putting on weight is my boobs and cleavage are truly spectacular and this does tend to detract from the protruding belly and wobbly thighs.

Anyway, I am struggling. My problem is I like to eat food and drink alcohol.  I don’t eat fruit and I don’t like vegetables. So diets are difficult.  The only other solution is to exercise more, but I don’t belong to a gym and its far too bloody hot to go walking these days.

So in the week lead up to my Christmas party (Where I am wearing my lovely Ann Summers Santa’s Little Helper outfit) I have decided to go on a minimal food diet. Which yesterday consisted of a caramel latte, chicken sandwich (multigrain bread though), dim sim, Smiths BBQ Chips, Vitamin Water, Sugar Free V, McDonalds Snack Wrap, half a pizza roll, pasta salad and a hamburger pattie. Today I have eaten about half a dozen of Ma’s homemade shortbread.

The solution to my dilemma? A pair of spanx.