Howdy troops! Thanks for your comments on the last entry. I wasn’t contemplating blogicide, especially not for this blog that I always enjoy writing. It was just one of those blue periods that crop up now and then.
Have you heard about Blog Depression? Perhaps you’re suffering yourself, or know someone who could be? This pamphlet may help, and is also the most hilarious thing I’ve seen on the internets for a very long time. Please, pretty please, have a read. You will never take yourself, or blogging, seriously ever again 🙂
. . .
I wrote something new for Cooking With Ginger, and guess what – I enjoyed doing it! It only took two hours to write, instead of my usual two weeks. Consider this progress, or a reflection of the crappy photos contained therein. Anyway, So I Married A Vegetarian talks about my flesh-filled past and has an easy, delicious and healthy recipe for a Spinach and Pumpkin Frittata.
. . .
The scales finally moved today! 2.3 kilos gone (5lb)! As I whined last week, I’d been maintaining since February 1. So this lonely big loss more than makes up for that, and averages out quite noicely over the past month! Just goes to show, it pays not to panic when nothing’s happening, and instead to stay focused on all the good things you’re doing. I didn’t do anything radically different this week, just kept on keeping on with the exercise and good eatin’, while minimising the avocado toast. Mwahaha.
. . .
At lunchtime today I made the swiftest jeans purchase in the history of Jeans Purchasing. Five minutes round trip! I’d been bitching about my baggy jeans for weeks, and even the Scottish Companion conceded they were taking on that Shat Your Nappy look. I bought them in Australia last October, a size 14 for a bargain $30 (£13). I arrived back to the UK all excited about the size 14, so I rushed to the shops to try on UK jeans and trousers. Imagine my hysterics when I discovered that over here the size 14 would go no further than mid-thigh. I tried three different shops but had the same result. Bastards.
Fast forward five months to today. I’d been eyeing off some jeans in Monsoon for awhile, as they seemed to be the only ones on the high street that fit my criteria – dark denim, bootleg, not too stretchy, no light streaks down the front that make my thighs look huge, and no cat whiskers in the crotch that may as well be neon-signs screaming CHECK OUT MY FAT GUT. I’d never tried them on, just admired them from afar, biding my time.
This morning I caught sight of my saggy-arsed reflection and decided it was D-Day. I waltzed into the shop and grabbed the 14 jeans (US 12). And a size 16 and 18 too, in case Consolation Prizes were required. Then it was into the change rooms, dacks off, jeans on… they fit! Not too tight in the thighs, yet enough snugness to accommodate a little more weight loss. Plus nicely fitting in the bum. Wheeee!
I was dressed again and at the checkout in two minutes, credit card outstretched. Does anyone else do this? As soon as I find something that fits, I am out of there in a flash, coughing up my cash before the garment has a chance to un-fit.
The only downer is that the jeans cost £40, which isn’t bad until you realise that’s $94 back in my homeland! Oh, and because I ate homemade bean burrittos for dinner tonight, they probably won’t fit me tomorrow. Holy bloat, Batman!