Cake?

Today is the official start of the three year plan to GET THIN. That is, I’m 37 today (yah I made it), so I’ve now got three years to loose the 6 excess stone I carry around with me. 2 stone a year. 84 pound in total. About half a pound every week for the next 156 weeks till I hit 40. Yeh, cause that’s gonna happen isn’t it. Despite my very best efforts, which quite clearly just aren’t good enough, I haven’t really lost a great deal in the dummy 11 week run that has just passed. And that’s been with the “diet honeymoon” syndrome, whereby you go from doing absolutely no exercise to madly visiting the gym 7 days a week, twice a day; and going from eating enough in one day to feed a family of four for a week, to eating a “healthy” 1500 calories a day. With no crisps to take the edge off the misery. Or bread. Or cakes, buns, sweets, pizzas, chocolate or cheese.

Oh fuck it, and pass me a very very large slice of birthday cake please.

The birthday celebrations kick off with the dogs tonight. It’s been a while since I thought it appropriate to celebrate a birthday with an evening in a dark and dingy club, rubbing up against a beautiful man, getting hammered and dancing till my tits fell off. And even the getting pie-eyed on Mojitos and having a Wimpey on the way home nights seem a bit same-old-same-old now. So for the past few years I’ve had quieter nights with just close mates. Or dinner with the family. Or a meal out with Boo. But I haven’t been to the dogs for years, so thought perhaps a night shouting “Come On Dog Number 5!”, and picking the winners based on the very scientific coolest name versus colour of livery theory was just what I needed. The chicken in a basket and lager in a plastic cup obviously swung it too.

Then tomorrow Boo and I are off to a wedding. Not ours, I haste to add/regret to inform. But the daughter of a neighbour of my mums. Will be having one or two glasses of fizzy pop no doubt, and am hoping that some traditional Wham is played and vol au vents are on offer. The bride is absolutely beautiful so I’m already panicking about standing anywhere near her. Did I mention she also has a cracking figure? I might just have to dig out the big pants and kaftan and hope for some damn fine lighting.