OK. First off – it’s quite long. Secondly – if you don’t really know the history of the girls, a lot of it won’t have as much punch. Thirdly – it’s fucking brilliant. Like, really really brilliant. Obviously there is the fashion, the shoes, the style. But more, oh so very much more than that, is the relationship stuff, between The Girls, Their Men, New York… Oh sweet lord. There are some real laughs to be had, but to be honest, not as many as I imagined there would be. But the tears were plentiful. Lots of heart in the mouth moments – lots of ahhhhs. Honest – just go see it. You’ll either love it, or you’ve got a heart of stone.
Equally as fabulous though to me, is that the angel that is George Sampson has made it through to the final of Britain’s Got Talent. Last year I remember being gutted that he didn’t make it through to the semis – so am so so happy that he’s on his way to stardom. Whether he wins or not on Saturday is irrelevant. I have no doubt that I will be privileged enough to see that beautiful young man on stage – perhaps at Sadler’s Wells – sometime in the not too distant future.
29 May 2008
28 May 2008
Rain Rain Go Away
I can’t bloody wait for the sun to finally come out to play so I can start my Summer Reading campaign. Readers of this blog will know that I do most of my reading in the Summer, when I can happily while away whole weekends outside, on a blanket, with copious cans of diet coke and stacks of books next to me.
I continued the “I promise to read all the books I’ve already got before I buy some more” Campaign this bank holiday weekend – and finally finished the couple I’ve had on the go this month.
Dancing on Thorns has been sitting around on my shelves for over two years. Several people along the way have recommended it me; and each time I said “Yep, I think I’ve got that already” before forgetting to pick it up and move it from the “read someday” to “read next” pile….
I should have read it months ago. Combining my love of men, ballet, angst and romance, the story focuses on the lives of budding actress Jonni Kendal and dancer extraordinaire Jean-Baptiste St. Michel. It’s a stunning and passionate love story and an amazing debut novel.
The Starter Marriage has been sitting around for even longer. Over three years in fact. I didn’t fall in love with it particularly, because I didn’t fall in love with the main character Tess; a thirty something teacher who’s husband walks out on her. But I did enjoy it. I’ve got a copy of Brown Owl’s Guide to Life sat on the shelf as well, which I think I might have a go at next. I do like Kate’s style of writing, so I’m hoping I’ll enjoy Brown Owl more. I’ll let you know.
Obviously all reading will stop tonight, when The Girls and I pop along to our local flix for Sex and The City: The Movie.
Sweet Lord Alive, I’m so excited I might pee.
I continued the “I promise to read all the books I’ve already got before I buy some more” Campaign this bank holiday weekend – and finally finished the couple I’ve had on the go this month.
Dancing on Thorns has been sitting around on my shelves for over two years. Several people along the way have recommended it me; and each time I said “Yep, I think I’ve got that already” before forgetting to pick it up and move it from the “read someday” to “read next” pile….
I should have read it months ago. Combining my love of men, ballet, angst and romance, the story focuses on the lives of budding actress Jonni Kendal and dancer extraordinaire Jean-Baptiste St. Michel. It’s a stunning and passionate love story and an amazing debut novel.
The Starter Marriage has been sitting around for even longer. Over three years in fact. I didn’t fall in love with it particularly, because I didn’t fall in love with the main character Tess; a thirty something teacher who’s husband walks out on her. But I did enjoy it. I’ve got a copy of Brown Owl’s Guide to Life sat on the shelf as well, which I think I might have a go at next. I do like Kate’s style of writing, so I’m hoping I’ll enjoy Brown Owl more. I’ll let you know.
Obviously all reading will stop tonight, when The Girls and I pop along to our local flix for Sex and The City: The Movie.
Sweet Lord Alive, I’m so excited I might pee.
23 May 2008
Two weeks on....
Fat Girl has officially now been “on the run” for over a year. Happy Birthday Blog. We’ve also celebrated the bizarre and somewhat unbelievable news that some 1300 people have visited this blog from 69 countries in the past 3 months – at least that’s what my neocounter tells me. Now whether that’s 1300 individual people or the same 26 people 50 times, I have no idea. But either way I’m both flattered and flabbergasted. Of course, that could also mean that I have perhaps a handful of my best friends who log on every couple of days to see if I'm talking about them… to see if I’m being a two faced back stabber. I may never know…
Last week, I also got to celebrate The Nieces birthday. Twice. She’s like The Queen that girl with her two parties – one for the old folks (of which I am officially now one) and one for her toddler chums from nursery. Both were fabulous, although she was rather under the weather, so we were probably more excited by the cake and sparkly presents than she was.
Boo and I also hosted a lunch for both Mums. When I say Boo and I hosted, what I mean is, he took me to the supermarket to buy the food and picked up both mums to deliver them safe and sound. I meanwhile did all the cleaning, tidying and flower arranging before hand, then all the preparing, cooking, serving and drink topping up. We kind of shared the tidying up. At least, I think we did – I truly can’t remember. They (The Mums that is) got on fine and dandy, and I think I impressed Mrs V with my one-pot chicken skills enough to entrust her first borns' dietary needs to me full time from next May…
Now last night I was lucky enough to get invited to the West End Gala Opening Night of Never Forget the Mama Mia-esque Take That musical. It’s silly, camp, funny and seriously cheesy but great fun for a sing-a-long with your girlfriends. Interestingly enough, the fellow who plays Jake Turner (the pretend Robbie Williams) used to temp at the same Housing Association with me. I remember him as being good fun, very tall, and seriously charismatic. He always said he was a struggling actor. Not struggling so much now ey. How fabulous. PS – I shared the red carpet with Toby Anstis (who I think might be stalking me), Richard Arnold, Julian McDonald and non-other than newsreader Phil Gayle. Now, when I say “shared”…..!
Could not be looking forward more to the Bank Jollybobs this weekend. Lots of sleeping and lounging about with Boo I hope. Perhaps we might make some more buns. And then eat them all.
Last week, I also got to celebrate The Nieces birthday. Twice. She’s like The Queen that girl with her two parties – one for the old folks (of which I am officially now one) and one for her toddler chums from nursery. Both were fabulous, although she was rather under the weather, so we were probably more excited by the cake and sparkly presents than she was.
Boo and I also hosted a lunch for both Mums. When I say Boo and I hosted, what I mean is, he took me to the supermarket to buy the food and picked up both mums to deliver them safe and sound. I meanwhile did all the cleaning, tidying and flower arranging before hand, then all the preparing, cooking, serving and drink topping up. We kind of shared the tidying up. At least, I think we did – I truly can’t remember. They (The Mums that is) got on fine and dandy, and I think I impressed Mrs V with my one-pot chicken skills enough to entrust her first borns' dietary needs to me full time from next May…
Now last night I was lucky enough to get invited to the West End Gala Opening Night of Never Forget the Mama Mia-esque Take That musical. It’s silly, camp, funny and seriously cheesy but great fun for a sing-a-long with your girlfriends. Interestingly enough, the fellow who plays Jake Turner (the pretend Robbie Williams) used to temp at the same Housing Association with me. I remember him as being good fun, very tall, and seriously charismatic. He always said he was a struggling actor. Not struggling so much now ey. How fabulous. PS – I shared the red carpet with Toby Anstis (who I think might be stalking me), Richard Arnold, Julian McDonald and non-other than newsreader Phil Gayle. Now, when I say “shared”…..!
Could not be looking forward more to the Bank Jollybobs this weekend. Lots of sleeping and lounging about with Boo I hope. Perhaps we might make some more buns. And then eat them all.
9 May 2008
Mesmerizing
Me and The Mother went to see the visual spectacular that is Michael Nunn and William Trevitt (AKA Balletboyz) last night. It was their Greatest Hits show; two of their most fabulous works – Russell Maliphant’s Broken Fall and Christopher Wheeldon’s Mesmerics; the world premier of an adapted version of Bonachela’s AmOx originally danced by Oxana Pachenko and Amy Hollingsworth – now called EdOx and danced by Oxana and Edward Watson (guesting from the Royal) with a brand new score by Ezio Bosso; and a new tango created by non other than Craig Revel Horwood (of Strictly Come Dancing fame) called Yumba vs. Nonino
There is a great clip of Mesmerics on the sadlers wells website which you should watch. Now… Watch it. Hit the link, hit the click and watch it now! If you thought ballet was all about hair nets and jockstraps, think again my friend, think again...
Of all the ballet I’ve seen so far this year – and there’s some damn good stuff in that list - Royal Ballet, New York City Ballet, Ballet Black, Northern Ballet – this has by far been the best. Those boyz are just superb. So graceful, so strong, so dramatic, so haunting. They just take your breath away and leave you gasping for more.
Unfortunately the run ends tomorrow so if you don’t have tickets already you really are screwed…although the boyz take the tour on the road later this year – check out their website for details.
Oh ps. I shared my tube journey home with guest artist Malgorzata Dzierzon (on loan from the Rambert) who performs in Mesmerics. She was kind and patient enough to sign my ticket. She is tiny and strikingly beautiful in “real life”. I love her a little bit more now.
6 May 2008
It’s Official
We’ve booked the registrar. So that’s the venue and the registrar booked. All done. Booked and done.
Shit.
I am actually going to get married.
In one year.
To the most lovely man I know.
Who puts up with my bullshit. And strokes my back. And makes me laugh. And does all manner of DIY type stuff. And plays with my feet. And picks me up late at night when I’m drunk and silly…
I’m a lucky lucky girl.
Now, back to that diet.
12th July I’m going to try on some more big white dresses. This time at a
specialist big girl shop in South London. It specializes in making fat girls feel as good about themselves as they possibly can, by actually stocking samples in sizes 16 – 34. Not the usual 10/12. I’m still taking my Spanx pants though. Just to be safe.
If they have nothing there, then I already know that there’s a great selection at
Always & Forever in sizes that fit me too….and one in particular that made The Mother cry…
So I’ve now got just over 8 weeks to try my best at getting down to a size 20 instead of the current 22. So that by the time I order the dress I can do so in an 18 – I’d be ok with that. Not ecstatic obviously. But OK….
Pass me the muffins please.
Shit.
I am actually going to get married.
In one year.
To the most lovely man I know.
Who puts up with my bullshit. And strokes my back. And makes me laugh. And does all manner of DIY type stuff. And plays with my feet. And picks me up late at night when I’m drunk and silly…
I’m a lucky lucky girl.
Now, back to that diet.
12th July I’m going to try on some more big white dresses. This time at a
specialist big girl shop in South London. It specializes in making fat girls feel as good about themselves as they possibly can, by actually stocking samples in sizes 16 – 34. Not the usual 10/12. I’m still taking my Spanx pants though. Just to be safe.
If they have nothing there, then I already know that there’s a great selection at
Always & Forever in sizes that fit me too….and one in particular that made The Mother cry…
So I’ve now got just over 8 weeks to try my best at getting down to a size 20 instead of the current 22. So that by the time I order the dress I can do so in an 18 – I’d be ok with that. Not ecstatic obviously. But OK….
Pass me the muffins please.
29 April 2008
Not So Much...
Not last weekend, but the weekend before, I spent a lovely 2 days in The Country with The Family. The Niece was on top form and we had a splendid time with Thomas (The Tank Engine) on Saturday with some face painting thrown in for good measure.
On Sunday we had a not such a splendid time with a weird lady and some puppets at “Three Billy Goats”. Half way through the show, The Sister asked The Niece “Are you enjoying it”. The answer? “Not so much”. I don’t blame her. It couldn’t have been duller if it tried.
This weekend just gone, I took The Mother to the matinee of Hamlet at Sadler’s Wells, with a Prix Fix at The Fish Shop for lunch.
Now, I would be lying if I said I knew the story of Hamlet off by heart, but I do know that there weren’t many Nazi’s in the version I read at school. However, David Nixon’s new version of the tale of revenge and betrayal took us to 1940’s occupied Paris with Hamlet as a young man returning home from the front line to find his dad dead and his mum married to his uncle. There are lots of Swastika flags and Nazi uniforms, Claudius is now the head of police and Poloniusa a member of the Gestapo; and, instead of drowning, Ophila meets her demise via a gang rape from a group of soldiers. Not so nice, a little bit crazy, but as is usual for the Northern, brilliantly produced, choreographed and danced.
On Sunday we had a not such a splendid time with a weird lady and some puppets at “Three Billy Goats”. Half way through the show, The Sister asked The Niece “Are you enjoying it”. The answer? “Not so much”. I don’t blame her. It couldn’t have been duller if it tried.
This weekend just gone, I took The Mother to the matinee of Hamlet at Sadler’s Wells, with a Prix Fix at The Fish Shop for lunch.
Now, I would be lying if I said I knew the story of Hamlet off by heart, but I do know that there weren’t many Nazi’s in the version I read at school. However, David Nixon’s new version of the tale of revenge and betrayal took us to 1940’s occupied Paris with Hamlet as a young man returning home from the front line to find his dad dead and his mum married to his uncle. There are lots of Swastika flags and Nazi uniforms, Claudius is now the head of police and Poloniusa a member of the Gestapo; and, instead of drowning, Ophila meets her demise via a gang rape from a group of soldiers. Not so nice, a little bit crazy, but as is usual for the Northern, brilliantly produced, choreographed and danced.
24 April 2008
Chillies
I bought some new pants last night on the way to the gym.
I bought three pairs.
For £10.
They are cotton and comfy and fit nice.
One pair is bright cerise and very very soft.
One pair is black and white and stripy, and has a little enamel cherry charm at the front. (I have them on right now.)
One pair is white with a little black ‘boudoir babe' design and lacy bits around the top with a pink ribbon.
I love my new pants.
They have cheered me up no end.
That is all for today.
I bought three pairs.
For £10.
They are cotton and comfy and fit nice.
One pair is bright cerise and very very soft.
One pair is black and white and stripy, and has a little enamel cherry charm at the front. (I have them on right now.)
One pair is white with a little black ‘boudoir babe' design and lacy bits around the top with a pink ribbon.
I love my new pants.
They have cheered me up no end.
That is all for today.
23 April 2008
Blog Tag
I have been blog-tagged by Scott Pack at Me and My Big Mouth.
It seems to be a sort of blog equivalent to the original chain letter type thing, which of course I’d normally dismiss and delete, but old habits regarding doing as Le Grande Fromage tells me to die hard… his wish has always been my command… so firstly I have to list six random things about myself.
One – I was number 2 in the Culture Club Fan Club. It was based above a shop in Northwood Hills, which by chance was where I went to my (second) secondary school, having been asked to leave my first… sort of. Wednesday was either “do PE” or “do community work” day. So when I was supposed to be either bouncing on a trampoline at the local sports hall or clearing up vomit at the Sunshine Home, I was infact hanging out at the CCFC office, posting out signed photos of George or Jon to other fans… oh happy happy days.
Two – NYJO (National Youth Jazz Orchestra) played at my 21st birthday bash. A beautiful version of “Somewhere” morphed into “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts”… I’ve always been rather busty.
Three – I am blessed with a very long tongue and can touch both my nose and chin with it…
Four – I was allegedly a budding mathematician in my youth, and was invited to attend a genius kid maths course which was held for two hours every Saturday morning at the Civic Centre in Uxbridge throughout the Summer of 1984 (or thereabouts). To this day I’m convinced my details got switched with some other nerd…
Five – My Sister and I used to fight terribly when we were little. I was a nasty piece of work, and prone to the fibbing to get myself out of trouble. I once bit her on the chest and swore blind that a blackbird had flown down from a tree and pecked her. She never told on me, and to this day I still feel guilty for it.
Six – I’ve done lots of different jobs in many different industries, but to this day my favourite ever place to work was behind the bar of a club Up Town in my very early 20’s. I was put in charge of the cocktail lounge, and can remember almost every recipe of the 72 drinks on the menu I created…
Right, six things listed I now have to nominate and tag six other people to do this …
Firstly, it’s got to be The Packfordshire himself.
Then the delightful and sexy Catherine Townsend .
My most favourite cake porn – and the people I’m going to get to do my wedding cupcakes.
The lady who once said I was efficient, utterly organised, bright, responsive and original, Emma from Snowbooks.
The Urban Bridesmaid blog , for no other reason than Boo and I might be booking her for the wedding…
And lastly, but not least-ly my ginger chum from the Big W.
So then, if these six people decide to play (although obviously Scott already has) the rules for them are:
To link back to me
Post these same rules on their blog
Write six random things on their own blog
Tag another 6 people in the post
Let those six people know they are being tagged, by leaving a comment on their blog
Then let me know when their own entry is posted….
Confused? You will be!
It seems to be a sort of blog equivalent to the original chain letter type thing, which of course I’d normally dismiss and delete, but old habits regarding doing as Le Grande Fromage tells me to die hard… his wish has always been my command… so firstly I have to list six random things about myself.
One – I was number 2 in the Culture Club Fan Club. It was based above a shop in Northwood Hills, which by chance was where I went to my (second) secondary school, having been asked to leave my first… sort of. Wednesday was either “do PE” or “do community work” day. So when I was supposed to be either bouncing on a trampoline at the local sports hall or clearing up vomit at the Sunshine Home, I was infact hanging out at the CCFC office, posting out signed photos of George or Jon to other fans… oh happy happy days.
Two – NYJO (National Youth Jazz Orchestra) played at my 21st birthday bash. A beautiful version of “Somewhere” morphed into “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts”… I’ve always been rather busty.
Three – I am blessed with a very long tongue and can touch both my nose and chin with it…
Four – I was allegedly a budding mathematician in my youth, and was invited to attend a genius kid maths course which was held for two hours every Saturday morning at the Civic Centre in Uxbridge throughout the Summer of 1984 (or thereabouts). To this day I’m convinced my details got switched with some other nerd…
Five – My Sister and I used to fight terribly when we were little. I was a nasty piece of work, and prone to the fibbing to get myself out of trouble. I once bit her on the chest and swore blind that a blackbird had flown down from a tree and pecked her. She never told on me, and to this day I still feel guilty for it.
Six – I’ve done lots of different jobs in many different industries, but to this day my favourite ever place to work was behind the bar of a club Up Town in my very early 20’s. I was put in charge of the cocktail lounge, and can remember almost every recipe of the 72 drinks on the menu I created…
Right, six things listed I now have to nominate and tag six other people to do this …
Firstly, it’s got to be The Packfordshire himself.
Then the delightful and sexy Catherine Townsend .
My most favourite cake porn – and the people I’m going to get to do my wedding cupcakes.
The lady who once said I was efficient, utterly organised, bright, responsive and original, Emma from Snowbooks.
The Urban Bridesmaid blog , for no other reason than Boo and I might be booking her for the wedding…
And lastly, but not least-ly my ginger chum from the Big W.
So then, if these six people decide to play (although obviously Scott already has) the rules for them are:
To link back to me
Post these same rules on their blog
Write six random things on their own blog
Tag another 6 people in the post
Let those six people know they are being tagged, by leaving a comment on their blog
Then let me know when their own entry is posted….
Confused? You will be!
18 April 2008
17 April 2008
Gay Paris
On Saturday it was off on the Eurotrash again, this time to celebrate The Sisters 40th birthday with some champagne breakfast and lunch. Lovely time was had by us all - and here are some snaps to prove that.
11 April 2008
Slick
Last night I took my lovely friend Louise to the Linbury Studio at the ROH to see Ballet Black , who I’ve heard of before, but never seen.
Blimey, they n'half slick.
Just six dancers, three ladies and three chaps form Ballet Black, and last night they treated us to just over an hour of amazing stage presence and class.
The first two dances were by far my favourites. Walk Through a Storm, the first classical piece by Richard Alston in 25 years was beautiful. All pointwork and pirouettes – it was both quirky and graceful, and the music (Beethoven) was perfect.
The second piece was Shobana Jeyasingh’s first ever creation – and it took my breath away. All red rubber skirts and tight denim body suits it was high energy and incredibly quick. It reminded me in some ways of “House of Flying Daggers”, in a very good way.
Blimey, they n'half slick.
Just six dancers, three ladies and three chaps form Ballet Black, and last night they treated us to just over an hour of amazing stage presence and class.
The first two dances were by far my favourites. Walk Through a Storm, the first classical piece by Richard Alston in 25 years was beautiful. All pointwork and pirouettes – it was both quirky and graceful, and the music (Beethoven) was perfect.
The second piece was Shobana Jeyasingh’s first ever creation – and it took my breath away. All red rubber skirts and tight denim body suits it was high energy and incredibly quick. It reminded me in some ways of “House of Flying Daggers”, in a very good way.
10 April 2008
The 20 Year War
About 20 years ago my boyfriend at the time (former love-of-my-life) told me that I was just too damn fat for him to want to sleep with anymore, and threatened to leave me if I didn’t loose weight. I was probably a size 16/18 or so, and still had the relatively OK toned physique that an 18 year old can get away with. I joined a gym called Flex and stopped eating anything other than apples. After a while, I lost some weight and was a comfortable 14/16. Said boyfriend didn’t leave me, but did start sleeping with almost every other woman that crossed his path. Some 10 years later we finally split up. By then I was comfort eating morning, noon and night and he had got the women next door pregnant.
About 15 years ago I joined Weight Watchers (for the first time), and lost about 2 stone by religiously following the suggested daily food plans. I became THE MOST boring food commentator ever… (e.g. – Do you know how many points are in that apple/tablespoon of peas/chunk of cheese/portion of pasta?...) and it was almost a relief to give it all up and start eating cakes again.
About 10 years ago I was living with my gay best friends and they coerced, encouraged and supported me back down to a size 16/18. At that time I was single and had the confidence of a woman half my size. I had lovers coming out of my ears and had the best time of my life. I was also pro-plus-ing off my nut every day.
About 7 years ago I met Boo. I stopped being single. My gay best friends had long since abandoned me and the carbs then found me. I got happy, got lazy and got fat.
Just over 5 years ago my dad died. I stopped working out, I stopped caring, I stopped stopping when I was full. I was never full. I ate and ate, and I ate all the wrong things. It neither bought my dad back, or filled the whole he left. But I carried on eating anyway.
In January last year I stopped smoking and started eating more.
In February last year my worst fears were confirmed when Boo (the actual love-of-my-life) admitted that he struggles to find me physically attractive anymore. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t either.
Almost exactly one year ago I started my food/weight/exercise spreadsheet, and weighed 104kg. I kept up the spreadsheet for about a month. I lost pretty much no weight, despite filling in the spreadsheet every day.
At the beginning of this year I started writing everything down in a lovely red notebook. I was about 15 ½ stone. That lasted about a month. I got bored and lazy.
I registered with my new doctors’ surgery today. I weigh 111kg. Nearly 18 stone. Twice the weight I should be.
I now feel hopeless and lost as well as bored and disgusted. I hate myself for not having that switch that most people seem to have that makes them
a) stop eating when they are full
b) stick to three good meals and two small snacks a day
c) eat healthily
d) keep treats as a rarity rather than a rule
My friends are as kind and supportive as any friends could be. They try and encourage and they listen and they all offer their help and advice all the time. They are all good looking and various shades of slim and toned. I’m not saying they don’t all have their issues – God knows they do – but none of them can possibly know just how it feels to be 18 stone, because not one of them is over 11 at a push.
I am due to get married in just over a year. I do not want to wear a size 22 wedding dress, but I just don’t know what to do.
About 15 years ago I joined Weight Watchers (for the first time), and lost about 2 stone by religiously following the suggested daily food plans. I became THE MOST boring food commentator ever… (e.g. – Do you know how many points are in that apple/tablespoon of peas/chunk of cheese/portion of pasta?...) and it was almost a relief to give it all up and start eating cakes again.
About 10 years ago I was living with my gay best friends and they coerced, encouraged and supported me back down to a size 16/18. At that time I was single and had the confidence of a woman half my size. I had lovers coming out of my ears and had the best time of my life. I was also pro-plus-ing off my nut every day.
About 7 years ago I met Boo. I stopped being single. My gay best friends had long since abandoned me and the carbs then found me. I got happy, got lazy and got fat.
Just over 5 years ago my dad died. I stopped working out, I stopped caring, I stopped stopping when I was full. I was never full. I ate and ate, and I ate all the wrong things. It neither bought my dad back, or filled the whole he left. But I carried on eating anyway.
In January last year I stopped smoking and started eating more.
In February last year my worst fears were confirmed when Boo (the actual love-of-my-life) admitted that he struggles to find me physically attractive anymore. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t either.
Almost exactly one year ago I started my food/weight/exercise spreadsheet, and weighed 104kg. I kept up the spreadsheet for about a month. I lost pretty much no weight, despite filling in the spreadsheet every day.
At the beginning of this year I started writing everything down in a lovely red notebook. I was about 15 ½ stone. That lasted about a month. I got bored and lazy.
I registered with my new doctors’ surgery today. I weigh 111kg. Nearly 18 stone. Twice the weight I should be.
I now feel hopeless and lost as well as bored and disgusted. I hate myself for not having that switch that most people seem to have that makes them
a) stop eating when they are full
b) stick to three good meals and two small snacks a day
c) eat healthily
d) keep treats as a rarity rather than a rule
My friends are as kind and supportive as any friends could be. They try and encourage and they listen and they all offer their help and advice all the time. They are all good looking and various shades of slim and toned. I’m not saying they don’t all have their issues – God knows they do – but none of them can possibly know just how it feels to be 18 stone, because not one of them is over 11 at a push.
I am due to get married in just over a year. I do not want to wear a size 22 wedding dress, but I just don’t know what to do.
9 April 2008
Almost worth the licence fee.
Monday, I watched the controversial Immigration: The Inconvenient Truth with the rather dreamy Rageh Omaar. Investigating how immigration has affected the UK, Rageh used Enoch Powell’s Rivers of Blood speech from 40 odd years ago as a starting point to find out whether his visions of future Britain have come true. Some of the results of the specially commissioned yougov survey about the opinions of the native white population really didn’t surprise me, what did though was the views of some of the settled second or third generation immigrants towards newcomers… who knew that that level of anger and resentment was floating about? I look forward to Parts 2 and 3 with great interest.
Tuesday saw the long awaited return of Gay Breast Lover Gok Wan, and his How to Look Good Naked. Now some clever wag as already suggested the best way to look good naked it to turn the light off – but Gok believes that with some Spanx support pants and self perception alteration any women can feel good about herself regardless of size, shape and imagined flaws…
I was tempted to apply to the show once, until I saw the length of the application process and gave up. Some shrink would probably have a field day with that little admission. I do however genuinely love seeing these women who start the show standing in front of the 360° mirror in their awful sports bras and grey old lady pants, and emerge like butterflies by the end of the show in heels and corsets shouting about how damn sexy they look. By association I to believe that I can look good naked – until I remember I don’t own any Spanx, I can’t walk in high heels, and I don’t have a 35 year old gay man hanging about eager to tell me how great my bangers are….
If only…
Then tonight its episode 3 of The Apprentice. Personally I think The Sugar made a right balls up last week – from the edited cuts we saw Shazia was stitched up like a kipper by Jenny Celery – but I’m hoping that tonight’s pub challenge episode is a killer – as long as my horse isn’t the victim…
Tuesday saw the long awaited return of Gay Breast Lover Gok Wan, and his How to Look Good Naked. Now some clever wag as already suggested the best way to look good naked it to turn the light off – but Gok believes that with some Spanx support pants and self perception alteration any women can feel good about herself regardless of size, shape and imagined flaws…
I was tempted to apply to the show once, until I saw the length of the application process and gave up. Some shrink would probably have a field day with that little admission. I do however genuinely love seeing these women who start the show standing in front of the 360° mirror in their awful sports bras and grey old lady pants, and emerge like butterflies by the end of the show in heels and corsets shouting about how damn sexy they look. By association I to believe that I can look good naked – until I remember I don’t own any Spanx, I can’t walk in high heels, and I don’t have a 35 year old gay man hanging about eager to tell me how great my bangers are….
If only…
Then tonight its episode 3 of The Apprentice. Personally I think The Sugar made a right balls up last week – from the edited cuts we saw Shazia was stitched up like a kipper by Jenny Celery – but I’m hoping that tonight’s pub challenge episode is a killer – as long as my horse isn’t the victim…
8 April 2008
Books stuff on TV on your PC...how do they do that?
Those tinkers at Borders have launched Bookzone TV. It’s bloody great. I logged on today for the first time and was delighted to see a whole section dedicated to Chick Lit featuring interviews with, amongst others, Katie Fforde, Josie Lloyd & Emlyn Rees, Belinda Jones, Jane Moore, Kate Harrison and Fiona Neill…
One fly in the ointment is that it’s also got the most annoying presenter, former host of “Loose Women”, Nina Sebastiane, who spends most of the time interviewing Fiona Neill by talking about herself. Tut. On the plus side that sexy minx from GMTV news Jasmin Lowson is one of the guest interviewers…my she’s a fine looking women.
If you get a spare few moments, log yourself onto bookzone.tv and watch TV at your desk. How novel. (See what I did there?)
One fly in the ointment is that it’s also got the most annoying presenter, former host of “Loose Women”, Nina Sebastiane, who spends most of the time interviewing Fiona Neill by talking about herself. Tut. On the plus side that sexy minx from GMTV news Jasmin Lowson is one of the guest interviewers…my she’s a fine looking women.
If you get a spare few moments, log yourself onto bookzone.tv and watch TV at your desk. How novel. (See what I did there?)
7 April 2008
I am a buffoon
Why oh why I didn’t read “My Best Friend’s Girl” by Dorothy Koomson when I got the proof from Time Warner (remember them?) in May 2006, I will now never know. Maybe it was because I don’t so much like the name Dorothy. Maybe it was because I don’t so much like kids. Maybe it was because I am clearly a buffoon, cause it’s cracking. And yes, I know Richard & Judy said that before me….
The book tells the story of Kamryn who, following the death of her best friend Adele, takes in her daughter Tegan. We learn what Adele did to break Kamryn heart, we get to know her ex-fiancé Nate, and we meet new love Luke…and along the way we see Kam’s relationship with Tegan grow and grow. Other reviews I have read about the book say it’s funny and quirky. I didn’t find that so much – but I did find it incredibly well written - a beautiful story, told beautifully.
Dorothy Koomson has a really nice website – have a look yourself. Oh, and buy the book – or you can borrow my proof if you want?
The book tells the story of Kamryn who, following the death of her best friend Adele, takes in her daughter Tegan. We learn what Adele did to break Kamryn heart, we get to know her ex-fiancé Nate, and we meet new love Luke…and along the way we see Kam’s relationship with Tegan grow and grow. Other reviews I have read about the book say it’s funny and quirky. I didn’t find that so much – but I did find it incredibly well written - a beautiful story, told beautifully.
Dorothy Koomson has a really nice website – have a look yourself. Oh, and buy the book – or you can borrow my proof if you want?
28 March 2008
Fucking Crow
I hear rumour of yet another strike planned by members of the RMT (and TSSA) over a row about staff safety (or was that pensions? or job descriptions? or the fact that they have to buy their own Rich Tea fucking biscuits? or not wear dangly earrings?)…
Now I know (and you know) that I know nothing (absolutely nothing) about politics or current affairs, but I do know that seemingly every fucking year Bob Fucking Crow gets the 7,000 odd members of his union all fired up about something to do with working for the Tube resulting in misery for days on end for us customers (as I pay a massive amount of money every year to wait in the rain for ½ hour whilst being told there is a “good service operating on all lines” before squeezing myself into a dirty, stinky, rat piss drenched compartment and then sitting in a tunnel waiting for signals to fail; I am a customer).
Granted, if I was part of a union that could bring 99% of the working population of London, the Government, the Mayor and all those fucking over-paid useless gob-shites that run the transport network to their knees every 5 minutes, I would probably be delighted to get yet another few days off to piss about – however, I don’t.
I come from the old school whereby you go to work, on time, suitably attired, every single day without causing a fuss. I’ve never sought compensation for harassment cause my boss told me to do something. I’ve never tried to sue for mental anguish because I got upset that my boss didn’t say please, and I’ve never gone on strike cause of some load of old tosh about uniforms, or shifts, or teabags or pens or whatever… I mean, for the love of God if you don’t want to do the job anymore just fucking don’t. Leave. Get another job. Do something else with your life.
But please don’t fucking insult me by going on strike cause you say that your safety is being put at risk because LU want to close some more ticket offices … I mean isn’t it actually just my inconvenience that I can’t buy my £120 a month ticket from the ticket office and instead have to use the billion pound ticket machines that I’ve help pay for… so what’s that got to do with your safety you bloody sherkas? You didn't go on strike when nearly all the bloody toilets got closed did you? Oh no. That, to you, wasn't a safety issue was it? The fact that sometimes my journey takes so fucking long I nearly piss myself before I can get to a loo doesn't concern you at all... that particular slip hazzard doesn't even cross your mind does it? Do you think I'm stupid? If you worked in the toilets and not the ticket office you would have gone on strike then wouldn't you? Oh yes, THEN it would have been a safety issue wouldn't it?
Oh and whilst I’m at it – listen to this quote from the TSSA general secretary - "This is a dispute about the safety of our Tube system. The last people we want to hit are the travelling public but this seems to be the only way we can make LU listen." Cock.
Now I know (and you know) that I know nothing (absolutely nothing) about politics or current affairs, but I do know that seemingly every fucking year Bob Fucking Crow gets the 7,000 odd members of his union all fired up about something to do with working for the Tube resulting in misery for days on end for us customers (as I pay a massive amount of money every year to wait in the rain for ½ hour whilst being told there is a “good service operating on all lines” before squeezing myself into a dirty, stinky, rat piss drenched compartment and then sitting in a tunnel waiting for signals to fail; I am a customer).
Granted, if I was part of a union that could bring 99% of the working population of London, the Government, the Mayor and all those fucking over-paid useless gob-shites that run the transport network to their knees every 5 minutes, I would probably be delighted to get yet another few days off to piss about – however, I don’t.
I come from the old school whereby you go to work, on time, suitably attired, every single day without causing a fuss. I’ve never sought compensation for harassment cause my boss told me to do something. I’ve never tried to sue for mental anguish because I got upset that my boss didn’t say please, and I’ve never gone on strike cause of some load of old tosh about uniforms, or shifts, or teabags or pens or whatever… I mean, for the love of God if you don’t want to do the job anymore just fucking don’t. Leave. Get another job. Do something else with your life.
But please don’t fucking insult me by going on strike cause you say that your safety is being put at risk because LU want to close some more ticket offices … I mean isn’t it actually just my inconvenience that I can’t buy my £120 a month ticket from the ticket office and instead have to use the billion pound ticket machines that I’ve help pay for… so what’s that got to do with your safety you bloody sherkas? You didn't go on strike when nearly all the bloody toilets got closed did you? Oh no. That, to you, wasn't a safety issue was it? The fact that sometimes my journey takes so fucking long I nearly piss myself before I can get to a loo doesn't concern you at all... that particular slip hazzard doesn't even cross your mind does it? Do you think I'm stupid? If you worked in the toilets and not the ticket office you would have gone on strike then wouldn't you? Oh yes, THEN it would have been a safety issue wouldn't it?
Oh and whilst I’m at it – listen to this quote from the TSSA general secretary - "This is a dispute about the safety of our Tube system. The last people we want to hit are the travelling public but this seems to be the only way we can make LU listen." Cock.
26 March 2008
Slummy Reader
It’s an outrageous thing to say – but say it I will. There is a down side to getting crate loads of lovely free books whilst working for The Big W. I have discovered it. This very morning.
I finished reading The Secret Life of a Slummy Mummy in the bath this morning. I got to the last page and thought “Hang on there one cotton picking minute…I’ve read that line before” and then I cursed for a bit and all wet and sloppy and naked went to my new fabulous bookcase that Boo built for me, and my eyes scanned the shelves. Left and right. Right and left. And there, winking, smirking and batting its eyelids at me was the original proof I’d read back in February 2006. I thought I’d done a sterling job with the whole ‘keep the actual, ditch the proof’ exercise when I moved in to the new place. But no. One little duplicate got past my cataloguing obsession. Damn it. I’ve now wasted precious reading time that I could have spent on one of the other trillion books that I promised Boo I would read before he would let me buy any more…. and that includes a ban on buying the new Sophie Kinsella, Jenny Colgan, Veronica Henry and Cecelia Ahern!! I ask you! Could not be more pissed off if I tried. But you would think, would you not, that at some point before the very last page, I would have realised that I’d been down the Slummy Mummy route before? So is that an indication that I really loved the book and it felt new and fresh despite being a re-read, or an indication that I have, in fact, the brain of a goldfish, or much much more worryingly, an indication that I’ve read so much mummy lit that I can’t distinguish one from another…
I finished reading The Secret Life of a Slummy Mummy in the bath this morning. I got to the last page and thought “Hang on there one cotton picking minute…I’ve read that line before” and then I cursed for a bit and all wet and sloppy and naked went to my new fabulous bookcase that Boo built for me, and my eyes scanned the shelves. Left and right. Right and left. And there, winking, smirking and batting its eyelids at me was the original proof I’d read back in February 2006. I thought I’d done a sterling job with the whole ‘keep the actual, ditch the proof’ exercise when I moved in to the new place. But no. One little duplicate got past my cataloguing obsession. Damn it. I’ve now wasted precious reading time that I could have spent on one of the other trillion books that I promised Boo I would read before he would let me buy any more…. and that includes a ban on buying the new Sophie Kinsella, Jenny Colgan, Veronica Henry and Cecelia Ahern!! I ask you! Could not be more pissed off if I tried. But you would think, would you not, that at some point before the very last page, I would have realised that I’d been down the Slummy Mummy route before? So is that an indication that I really loved the book and it felt new and fresh despite being a re-read, or an indication that I have, in fact, the brain of a goldfish, or much much more worryingly, an indication that I’ve read so much mummy lit that I can’t distinguish one from another…
25 March 2008
Not so much.
Last Thursday was The Mother of the Brides birthday so I took her for an early bird special at Clos Maggorie and then onto the Coliseum to see the most hotly anticipated dance event of the Season. Back in August 1999 I was privileged enough to see the Stars of the New York Ballet at the RFH, but the entire New York Ballet hasn’t appeared in London for some 25 years. So you can imagine how excited I was to get a couple of seats for Programme 3 which promised to be spectacular…
Was it the best darn thing I ever did see?
Not so much to be honest. I had kind of forgotten that the NYB dance Balanchine…and I’d forgotten that I’m not really that keen on that sort of defined, robotic movement… Don’t get me wrong some of it was amazing, and it’s so incredibly precise and quick that some of it did take my breath away. But am I sorry that I only caught the one performance? Not so much to be honest.
New Plan?
I have reached a defining decision making moment I think…
Despite the fact that I have ballooned to a size 22 and weigh over 17 stone, despite the fact that in three months I have to both run 10k for charity and buy my wedding dress, and despite the fact that I have never felt more disgusting or repugnant in all my years - I have already eaten a Cadbury Crème Egg, two home baked rolls with butter, 2 pears, 1 apple, 1 plum and a portion of left over stir fry noodles today.
I think I need to just accept the fact that I will never look or feel good enough to have sex again and never again wear clothes that I have chosen because I like them as opposed to because they fit.
I will instead just buy lots of Spanx underwear, stop moaning and crying about my size and weight, and die a hideous slow death as a result of high blood pressure, heart disease or diabetes.
Good plan?
Despite the fact that I have ballooned to a size 22 and weigh over 17 stone, despite the fact that in three months I have to both run 10k for charity and buy my wedding dress, and despite the fact that I have never felt more disgusting or repugnant in all my years - I have already eaten a Cadbury Crème Egg, two home baked rolls with butter, 2 pears, 1 apple, 1 plum and a portion of left over stir fry noodles today.
I think I need to just accept the fact that I will never look or feel good enough to have sex again and never again wear clothes that I have chosen because I like them as opposed to because they fit.
I will instead just buy lots of Spanx underwear, stop moaning and crying about my size and weight, and die a hideous slow death as a result of high blood pressure, heart disease or diabetes.
Good plan?
20 March 2008
TV Heaven
I didn’t get to watch the final of DoI 3 (being in Brussels as I was) but I have been tipped off that that blond bird who was in Hear'say won. Am obviously pissed off cause my Michael Underwood replacement – Zhara from Corry – made it to the final, and I would have been quid’s in if she’d done the honours. Ho. Hum.
New Work sweepstake number two is about to kick off. I love The Apprentice. I don’t care what anyone says. It’s bloody great fun. I fear however, that my lucky dip candidate Sara Dhada is going to be trouble. Anyone who says things like "I’m a true example of pure class and elegance. I don’t try to be glamorous – I'm just naturally like that" is bound to be a complete and utter pain in the arse, and I already hate her a little bit. However, I'm thanking my lucky stars that I didn't pick this gobshite out of the hat.... is that a wig on it's head???
New Work sweepstake number two is about to kick off. I love The Apprentice. I don’t care what anyone says. It’s bloody great fun. I fear however, that my lucky dip candidate Sara Dhada is going to be trouble. Anyone who says things like "I’m a true example of pure class and elegance. I don’t try to be glamorous – I'm just naturally like that" is bound to be a complete and utter pain in the arse, and I already hate her a little bit. However, I'm thanking my lucky stars that I didn't pick this gobshite out of the hat.... is that a wig on it's head???
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