Week 11 - "I am in shape. Round is a shape"

Yo.

So, I stupidly told two former work guys about my blog. I should have shut my cakehole (mmm, cake), but they pestered me about it and so I sent them the link, on condition that they never bring up how much I weigh. Have heard zilch back. So that either means they are disgusted and have now cut off all contact, or their lives don't revolve around me and they haven't actually read it. I fucking hope it's the latter. 

This week, I have been obsessed with Captain America/Chris Evans — either will do.  Ideally, a picture would have gone nicely here, but I'm not entirely clear about copyright and I don't want to get sued. Also, I'm not sure how I feel about Chris Evans having played TWO Marvel superheroes, but I'm sure we can all agree that Fantastic Four was a massive pile of shite and we can all pretend it never happened… But back to Captain America — if only we could all take part in a scientific experiment that changed our bodies for the better… Although to be fair, I already have the same size arms as Captain America, and I don't even have to work out — SHAAAAAAAAAAAAME! In your face, Cap! 

In other news: I have decided my blog looks like an accident in a Dulux factory. It's my first proper blog and I went a bit mental with the colour, and I very much regret it now, so it will need to be redone. Right after this packet of biscuits. 

Speaking of blogs, an old school friend has taken to writing a fat blog as well — an idea she admitted she stole off me! I'm just THAT inspiring, guys. Anyway, there are no hard feelings at all (because me and her are the only people blogging about about weight loss, right?) and seeing as she always makes me laugh, I'll give her blog a shout out here too: http://weightythinking.wordpress.com/ (Also, she did the same with my blog, so now I'm fucking morally obliged, aren't I?) It's fine… It's fine… Just because her blog looks better, doesn't necessarily mean it is better…

From next week, I will be following the Billy Idol Diet. I am positive that when I was watching his videos once (or 12 times) a day, I didn't eat badly — watching his skinny little body jump around in leather and chains gave me all the incentive I needed — that could be me someday! Oh, I have just realised that snacks are back in my diet... WHEN THE FUCK DID THAT HAPPEN? Right, this week people, I. AM. ON. IT. 

Oh, shit — Bank Holiday weekend, innit? Hmm, we'll see… Let's not make any ridiculous promises.

WEDNESDAY

I was incredibly good on this day. I stayed within my daily points and it felt nice and in control. Also ate a massive banana today. Seriously, it was huge — there are porn stars who would have been embarrassed at the size of this thing. Wish I had taken a picture, dammit.

THURSDAY

Seeing as I normally have band practice on Thursdays, I tend to have a big lunch, as by the time I get home in the evening, it's too late to eat. I had a very nice NuMe Chicken Tikka ready meal, plus a bit of flapjack from my Graze Box. Bass keeps me busy!

FRIDAY

It was a colleague's last day today (boo-hoo!) and she decided to have her leaving do at The Diner in Camden, so I consulted my Eating Out guide. COCK - burgers range from 12 to 59. Fucking great. To be on the safe side, I decide to get a hot dog and fries, as the points seem to work out less — 30pp? Ended up eating a mate's cheesy chips, added those to the list as well — 35pp? I decided not to drink until the evening, but I was having such a good time catching up with people that I only had two alcoholic drinks all night — GET IN! Got home after midnight and was a bit peckish so had a quarter of a Daim bar and a pack of Sunbites, which (might I add), were not fucking worth it for 3pp — could have had two bits of toast for that! Never mind. A pretty successful day. CHUFFED.

SATURDAY

I went out for the day with my boyfriend and it ended up being a bit of a late start, so we only sat down to eat our first meal at 5pm. This was stupid, as we were going to my olds for dinner at 7.30pm… But we thought we'd just have something small. So we were in Cafe Rouge, we had one hour, and I didn't have my Eating Out guide with me. COCK. OK, time to make some sensible choices! I already ruled out salad because it was freezing, so we both decided to have one of their Plats Rapides, as I figured they would be small and quick — I tried to work out points in my head and settle for the chicken baguette that came with a few fries. Er, there were A LOT of fucking fries. I shouldn't have eaten them, but I couldn't help myself when they were there staring at me. URGH. So we turn up at my parents, stuffed with food, but it worked out fine as we didn't eat until about 8.45pm, where I had a small portion of curry that my mum had made. Got home and looked up Cafe Rouge…

My daily allowance: 26pp

Cafe Rouge baguette (with chips?): 34pp

BUGGERY CUNTS.

SUNDAY

So, after yesterday's shambolic food selection, I am trying to be good. Made some swede mash, which is my new favourite low-carb/point-free veg (just add extra light cream cheese, parsley, salt, pepper and chilli — will take a picture next time, whoops) and had it with leeks and a bit of chorizo on the side. Saved 5pp today. I am positive it will make fuck-all difference come Weigh Day.

MONDAY

So Monday started off good really. Until I ate the nuts from my Graze Box, which were more points than I would have liked. But things really went tits up at lunch. I decided I couldn't be bothered to go out and get my lunch (because of the cold) so I rifled through my work drawer to see what I might have lurking at the back. Oh, a packet of Fox's Nice Creams. Before I knew it, I had eaten 5. How many points? 10. ARGH! I would have been better off getting lunch! I seem to be on some kind of self-sabotage mission, because this is all very pathetic, and stupid and idiotic. Have spaghetti for dinner, which took me way over points, woo-blinkin'-hoo. 

TUESDAY

As always, I ate light today, and wore the thinnest and lightest dress I own before hitting the scales. Think light thoughts, think light thoughts…

WEEK 11 : 2lbs lost (11st 5lbs)
SAY WHAAAAT?!?

Week 10 - ME WANT FOOOOOOD!

Fucking hell people.

I'm really sorry I haven't been posting as regularly of late. Basically, I was spending so much time stuffing my face that I didn't have time to write this blog — it would have used up precious Daim bar time! (I have rediscovered these and am eating them daily. Like a banana.)

Urgh, it's all gone a bit tits up really. Not sure what happened but after a few days of struggling, I just cracked and went "I'M NOT DIETING RIGHT NOW. I AM MAKING THIS CHOICE". And so the gorging began… And when I say I ate everything, I really do mean EVERYTHING. But on the plus side, I found some food to add to my dislikes list! Now, it might sound weird to have a list of food I don't like, but I grew up with a mum who always told people at dinner "Oh she's good — she eats everything". Now, I am not blaming my mum at all for making me a fatty or anything like that, but it's just a reminder that I have always been a food fan. I think it only started bothering me in my adult life when I'd be part of a discussion where people would be talking about food they couldn't bear — ranging from eggs, blue cheese, 'wet' food (what the fuck?), fish, pork scratchings — and I would realise there was ABSOLUTELY NOTHING i could bring to this conversation. I would end up just lying by pulling a face and saying something like "Yeah, pork scratchings… they're, er, weird…", whilst in my head apologising to Mr Porky.

So now, whenever I come across something I don't like — I am excited. There is something on this planet that I won't put in my mouth — HURRAH! The list is as follows:

• Porcini mushrooms — they sounded like a very adult pizza topping, so I got them on a pizza once. Tasted like the floor.
• Whole baby squid — I can't deal with the tentacles. Chewing the entire body of something in my mouth just makes me feel like the Bone-Cruncher in the BFG. No thank you.
• Kidneys — I always wondered why the steak and kidney pie I used to get (when I used to sell raffle tickets for Saracens at Vicarage Road) used to taste a bit funny… Now I know. 
• Dark chocolate — i don't get the point of it. People who want to show they are fancier and better than you pretend they like this more than a Mars bar. It's bollocks — dark chocolate is bitter and horrible and should only ever go in a brownie.
• BBQ ribs — I like BBQ sauce. I like ribs. ("But which is better?" Eheh.) But somehow together, they do not work for me. I think it's because the ribs always come totally smothered in the sauce, which is too sweet and cloying for my taste. I end up scraping it off and regretting it every time I order them, so they are on the list now.
• Grapefruit — what in fuck's name is this fruit supposed to be?

Other things that have been happening… Oh yes — me and a work colleague went to Morrisons to get lunch. I was on 'no diet' mode so we both got a macaroni cheese ready meal. We got back to the office and I popped mine in the microwave and went and sat down at my desk for a bit. However, when I went back to the kitchen, a guy from work was telling my friend she shouldn't put 'that kind of stuff' into her body. I watched the microwave count down the last minute on the timer, willing him to blimming leave before he saw that I was eating it too... Thankfully he did, because the guilt was also making my face all hot. I should add, my macaroni friend is about half my size and can get away with eating something that has over 700 calories in it. I, however, cannot. Still, I enjoyed eating it... I figured I might as well — fuckin' bought the bastard thing, hadn't I?

I have also been obsessed with sriracha sauce. I first had this when I stayed over at a friend's house (she has since moved to Belfast) after a night out. She made me this delicious bacon sandwich the next day and put this sauce on it — my god, I was savouring every mouthful because it was fucking amazing. What was less amazing was that when I popped to the loo mid-sandwich, I came back to find that the remaining half had been eaten by her flatmate as he thought I didn't want it! He was very apologetic, but honestly, I could have cried. I still think about this whenever I make a bacon sandwich. That was years ago (and some might say that I should be over it), but then I finally decided I was going to buy some after having some on a hot dog at FEAST. I ordered it online and paid extra for it to get delivered the next day, like some kind of junkie. IT GOES WITH EVERYTHING. And since I like to eat EVERYTHING, it's the perfect sauce for me. I will be back to my usual blog next week — I promise!

Mmm... This will not last long…

FEAST Special — Mega Blog!

 FEAST, Tobacco Docks, Thursday 7 March

All the tasty stalls on offer!

TODAY WAS AMAZING. I went to FEAST with my friend and her boyf and it was everything I had hoped for and more. And I was so distracted by the food that it didn't even dawn on me to take pictures of what I ate — I'm sorry! Basically, the organisers hired a large space out at the Tobacco Docks in Wapping and all the very popular street food stalls in London got a chance to sell their wares. They set it out beautifully, with long tables and candles, it was just lovely.


I took this event very seriously. First, I went to the website to look at all the stalls available and made a shortlist of which ones sounded the most appealing to me. Then, I looked up each place in my shortlist to see which were restaurants or made regular appearances in say, Borough Market, or something like that. If they did have a shop, they were shifted to the bottom of the list, as I figured that if I got desperate (and I often do) I could go and seek them out, and therefore they were not urgent to visit at FEAST. Looking at how much time and care I took to do this, some might say that I am fighting a losing battle trying to lose weight — I should probably just get fat and become some kind of professional eater. (I would be fucking amazing, by the way.) 

A very fancy affair, I'm sure you'll agree.

After scaring my friend and her boyfriend by brandishing my list like some crazy woman, the first stop was Anna Mae's Mac 'n' Cheese. But just as I was gearing up, my friend suggested we might maybe possibly want to share a pot. I think my heart actually skipped several beats — I definitely started to feel a bit dizzy. WHAT THE FUCK?? But then my mate convinced me (in very calm, soothing tones) that it was better to have the capacity to eat a range of food than get stuffed after two plates— oh, she knows me so well. So the three of us shared a Spicy Juan, which had red jalapenos, coriander and sour cream on top. Delicious. I took issue with the wooden forks they were handing out, as they were an odd texture in my mouth. My friend pointed out that they were also a bit absorbent (making it an odd choice for something with sauce), to which her boyfriend responded "So your problem with these forks is that they're stealing food from you?!?". Well, yes.

Spicy Juan, Kanye Western or Annie Mac for you, madam?

Next stop — Big Apple Hot Dogs. Now these were fucking amazing. I would say they were EASILY the best fucking hot dogs I have eaten in my life. The second best hot dog was when I was about seven and at a fair with my parents — this is one of my big food regrets (I have a list that I will share with you some time.) I ordered a chilli dog. Now firstly, what seven-year-old child orders a fucking chilli dog?? I feel like it was at that point that my parents should have worked out I was gonna have problems with food… This hot dog was sooo tasty, but being a small child, I took about four bites and I couldn't eat anymore. And then, in slow motion, I watched it get THROWN INTO THE FUCKING BIN. Honestly, I can still see it so clearly to this day… Meryl Streep in Sophie's Choice has got nothing on me. But back to the story — Big Apple: best hot dog ever. I had mine with a bit of sriracha sauce (which I am now obsessed with). Job done.

We paced ourselves at this gig, stopping for drinks, a little sit-down etc, but then we all sheepishly admitted to each other than none of the food had even touched the sides. Cue huge relief that we were all up for stuffing our faces and on to the next one! My friends wanted a lamb burger from Dishoom (Indian street food), so we parted ways for a bit while I went to queue at Spit and Roast for the Buttermilk Fried Chicken Burger with Korean Sauce. The queue was massive (a good sign) and I spent most of the time deciding whether I should go for a slider or a full burger ("COCK CRAP — which one???") Hearing my friend's wise words from earlier, I decided to go for a slider, as I thought I would save a bit of space for more food later. STUPID FRIEND. Wish I had got the big one, because this burger was awesome and what I had later was not worth saving the space for. Crunchy on the outside, tender on the inside, good quality, excellent sauce. I would seek out these guys again.

Looked fancy… tasted funky.

So. We are getting to the end of what we can physically stuff in our bodies now, but we decide we want one more savoury thing, then dessert. After having a little wander, nothing was really taking our fancy, but then we saw some posh place called Frederick's. The food looked good and was in small portions, so we each had a little bit of bread that was topped with a duck and pistachio terrine and a little preserved pear slice on top. Fuck me, it was disgusting. And seriously, I will eat most things. It was so disgusting that when I went to blow my nose, I considered spitting it out into the tissue, but I hate waste. (Actually, what is more disgusting is the fact I still stuffed something down my gullet that I didn't even like, but it's all relative or something). It was really gross. I think we just made a duff choice there because the rest of the food looked good. It was at this point as well that my friend and I discussed how both our stomachs were making weird noises… 

DOGNUT DOWN, DOGNUT DOWN! (sob)

Swiftly moving on (ain't letting no stomach problems slow this bitch down!), we got in the queue for Dognuts with Salted Caramel Sauce at this fish place called Hix Fish Dog. I got handed mine and then disaster struck — one sugar-dusted doughnut army-rolled out of my tray and onto the dirty fucking floor. There was no five-second-rule here, not in this public place. I think I styled it out, but my friend knew this would have upset me, as she quickly disposed of it in a little tissue paper shroud, and dumped it in a bin, burning her fingers in the process. It was fine though, because they were quite big portions, so even though they both offered me one of theirs, I didn't really need it. We headed to a seated area to tuck into our last street food dish. [Stomach still making noises] My god, this caramel sauce was absolutely delicious. [Stomach moving around a bit]. The doughnuts were just batter really, but they were still pretty fucking good. [Stomach really being quite vocal and active] Perfect end to the evening really… OH GOD, AM I GOING TO SHIT MYSELF??? 

Ooh, lovely candles to distract you from poo stories…

Yes, what I thought was just a little bit of excitement, did look like it was very much the shits. (Warning — please stop reading right now if you do not like poo-based stories.) Right. OK. Fuck. So. Right — what are my options? One — ignore this and possibly face Bridesmaids-esque situation on the tube home. Two — leave mid-doughnut eating and sort this out in a loo somewhere. Now, any of you who know me know that I have VERY strict requirements when it comes to pooing in public loos. It needs to be quiet. The cubicle needs to be completely sealed — no gaps at the bottoms or tops of doors. And there needs to be enough loo paper. So I had to explain to my friend that I would definitely be needing the loo (she gave me knowing look — she has accompanied me on poop expeditions before), and left the table, turning to tell them that UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES was my last doughnut to go in the bin. Looking back, I don't think my friend's boyfriend needed to know all this. Oh well. 

Spotted on my toilet trip.

So off I poo(tled) to find a toilet. Loo situation: no functioning locks, queues, open-air cubicles and wet floors, and just grimy in general. Great. I actually went into a cubicle, but I was only in there for about one minute assessing the environment before I thought "No, not here". Which was just as well, because when I came out, there was an even bigger queue. But then I remembered there were some toilets upstairs — thank fuck, because the cra(m)p was not going away. I had to ask for directions because I actually couldn't find the loos, but eventually, I found them tucked away at the back of the venue. And it looked like I wasn't the only person who couldn't find them because there wasn't another sodding person in there. RESULT! They were make-shi(f)t loos, but fancy ones, and ALL of them were self-contained. It was actually very nice: good hand soap, nice lighting, nice sinks, everything. So I picked the furthest-away loo and did what needed to be done, washed my hands and went back. Seeing as I had lost track of time a bit, I had to blend in with another crowd of people as I didn't want the security people who gave me directions to know that I had been in the toilet all that time. Got back to the table, and ate my last doughnut. Is that gross? To leave halfway through your food to take a shit, and then come back and resume? Something (very loudly) is telling me that it is, but that is where we are in the story. And I felt a lot better.

I love small, cute things. STOLE IT!

So we relaxed and chatted for a while, then my boyfriend turned up and all he bought to eat was a plain mac 'n' cheese. What the hell? He is ALL about hot dogs and burgers, I have no idea why he didn't have one. Oh no, wait — maybe it's because he didn't want to take a runny dump in his expensive suit, that's why.  We stayed right to the end and I have to say I would definitely go again to the one in the summer. At work the next day, I was chatting to someone who also went the night before and she got a bit of a dicky tummy too, as did my friend's boyf… Who knows if it was one of the stalls, or just the mixing of very rich foods. I just have two words to say: WORTH IT.

Week 8 - Devil Burger with Chilli Cheese Fries… Really?

So this week has had its ups and downs. Went for my second audition with that old rockers band. I did well but the next day I was shitting it and thinking "What if they ask me to join? Do I want to gig that much? Shouldn't I be excited about the prospect, rather than feeling sick?". After much discussing with the boyfriend, I decided to write to the band manager (an absolutely lovely woman) and explained that I would be pulling out of the runnings, as I think gigging every other week is a bit too much for me. She sent me a lovely email, and I felt so much better about my decision after she told me — and this is because I asked her, not because she is a bitch! — that the guy who auditioned before me already knew the set list (I didn't) and that as he could start sooner, that would have swayed it anyway. But out of six blokes, only two of us got a call back, so I am pleased that I managed to hold my own with the big boys! It's made me feel so much more confident, especially as she passed on a message later that evening saying she spoke to the band and they specifically asked her to pass on that they were very impressed with my playing and that I should never doubt the fact that I am a very good bassist. With excellent timing. Oh, and that my part on Alice Cooper's School's Out was 'note perfect'. GET. IN.

WEDNESDAY

Bollocks — didn't get up for my run. I am really annoyed with myself. My breakfast of strawberries, oats and yoghurt is going down well, as are the caramel digestives one of the girls at work brought in. Don't worry — I pointed it. And the half scone I ate after dinner. Eheheh. I made gnocchi with leeks and cheese sauce, only to later have my boyfriend tell me in a really roundabout that, well... I'm still not sure what he was trying to say. You tell me.

Him: So… is gnocchi better for you than pasta?

Me: No, I don't think so. 

Him: So does it cook more quickly then? 

Me: Well, yes. It's good if you don't have much time. Although fresh pasta cooks very quickly too.

Him: Do you like gnocchi more than pasta?

Me: Hmmm, I'm not sure... No, I probably prefer pasta.

Him: Yeah, me too… Gnocchi seems quite bland… I can't tell if I maybe needed to add more salt…

Me: Oh, did you not like dinner then?

Him: Oh no, it was nice... I dunno… Maybe it was all the leeks in it…

Me: It's OK — we don't have to eat if you don't really like it.

Him: Well, I'm not saying I wouldn't ever eat it again ever…

This went on for fucking ages. And all I worked out was that a) it may have needed salt, b) there was too much spinach, c) gnocchi is stodgy, and d) there may have been too many leeks. I liked it! But then I chucked a load of red chillis over my portion. Anyway, eventually the outcome was that next time we will try a more piquant sauce. (I'm sure he will be on here commenting as soon as I post this, criticising my re-telling of this story…)

THURSDAY

FUCKSTICKS — couldn't face going on my bastard run again this morning. I am feeling really frustrated with myself. I HAVE to go tomorrow. It's the 1st of March. That was the deal.

FRIDAY

CUNTING HELL! When will I learn? Seriously, when? Right after I eat my own body weight in foamy bananas, chocolate raisins and Smarties, that's when. Oh, and a mini bag of Skittles. That I am not writing down.

SATURDAY

OK, I had a very busy day ahead so I didn'tt feel too bad about not running. We drove round Hitchin and Bedford today (get me on the motorway!), and I managed to exist on grapes and a packet of Velvet Crunch snacks. Which meant a curry for dinner! Sounds fun, but it definitely wasn't. Back in the old days of WW, a biryani was a lot less points than it is now. So suddenly, all my planning went out the window and my head was a mental place to be. "What about a fish curry? Maybe I shouldn't have naan and rice… What about a korma with salad? Is a prawn biryani better than chicken? Perhaps tandoori chicken… but I don't want to eat that… shit shit…". All this whilst stuffing my face with poppadoms and mango chutney — it's a hard life I tell you. Anyway, went with the chicken biryani for 37 fucking propoints. AND it wasn't even that good! Plus, even though I was full when I wasn't quite halfway through it, I still ate it all, to the point of being really uncomfortable for the next two hours. Why? Although I don't think it's just me who does that — my boyfriend was struggling too, so much so that by the end, he was propping himself up against the wall next to us in a bid to finish. He gave his last bit of garlic naan to me because it was just too much — I WIN!!

SUNDAY

Seeing as I needed to dye my hair and had a very important audition today, I decided that there was no time to run… And I was right really, as I only just made it out the door in time. Ugh, nerves make me eat…

MONDAY

SHAMONE MOTHERFUCKERS! DID MY RUN!!! Sort of. I woke up at a decent time, but I found myself just lying there thinking a lot about my run, but not really committing to getting up and doing it. Soon it was 7.50, my cut-off time for a run, as it doesn't leave me enough time to get ready afterwards. But then the guilt set in… FUCK FUCK! OK, lets go for a short run then — about 15 minutes. It's better than nothing, right? Wrong. Fuck me, it was the worst run I have ever done in my life. I mean, worse that the very first time I went for a run ever. I was feeling a bit chesty beforehand, and rather than take my inhaler, I just thought "Nah, I'll be fine". About six minutes down the road, I felt like my lungs were going to collapse. But I couldn't stop running because there was oncoming traffic and I didn't want them to think I was some kind of lazy bitch, so I had to wait until I turned off the main road. Fucking hell. I felt like such a massive dick walking slowly in running gear, but I could not take a deep breath at all. I ended up walking the whole circuit, until I hit the same main road home, at which point I started running again. Not a great result, but maybe — just maybe — I have broken the cycle… (I suspect this is also what I would end up admitting to my boyfriend after trying to get my fat arse on his exercise bike).

TUESDAY

Eat-Light Tuesday! My favourite day of the week. Although I have to admit, it's less and less exciting as each week passes on. The first few weeks I would just get calorific light things to eat for the sake of it, but now a little bit of guilt has set in. Which is good. After getting weighed, I met the girls for dinner in a burger place tonight — the portions were huge (they weren't before!) and I was severely cheesed out with cheesy chilli fries. Some might say I had a nerve stuffing my face, given the information below…

WEEK 8 : 1.5lbs put on (11st 7lbs)
This 'one step forward, two steps back' thing is sure to get boring soon. It will.