I Dream of Brownies

I am mourning today. Mourning the fact that my hormones are raging, my ovaries are screaming and my boobs hurt. Mourning that I can’t eat chocolate.

I had a bad day at work yesterday, and so did my sister. We bought a 200g bag of Crispy M&Ms and demolished the whole lot before dinner.

I hadn’t eaten chocolate for months, good lord it was good. It was so damn sweet and fine. I felt sick afterwards and wanted to cry.

Anyway, a day later I am majorly craving the chocolate. I have a salad for lunch. Vegies and some ham. No bloody crispbreads like I usually have coz I stupidly left them at home. Grr. And it’s 40 degrees outside so I am not going to the shops. Instead I choose to sit here and whine.

I am just pissed off that I can’t go to the vending machine without one little KitKat making me gain half a kilo. I am pissed off that I will probably put on weight coz of that M&M episode. I can’t even enjoy the "occassional indulgence" that they recommend because either a) I’ll probably gain weight or b) i will over-indulge and DEFINITELY gain weight.

This is just one of those PMS-induced WHY ME days. Why must I be blessed with this bulbous physique that gains weight so very easily, despite exercise, despite eating so healthily 95% of the time.

GRRR, I say. Grrr.

I remember Dr Phil saying on Oprah once, "TOUGH LUCK!" to all these people who gain weight so easy. That’s the hand you’ve been dealt so deal with it, says Dr Phay-uhl. Well why don’t you just SHUDDUP, you condescending git. Why don’t you just allow me to mourn that I can’t wolf down a Snickers a day like the skinny man in the next cube. Allow me to feel pissed off, allow me to hate salads, allow me to miss full-fat cheese melted on un-complex carbohydrated white bread, allow me to feel fed up and cranky because I’ve been exercising and eating right for over two years and I’m still not skinny yet.

The man just doesn’t account for Feelings. He doesn’t account for how bloody exhausting this is. It’s not a matter of flicking a switch.

Some days you’re just tired and you wish you could make a batch of cookie dough and eat the whole damn thing.

Sure my arse is huge, but cop a look at these tits!

This journal turned 2 on Friday! Two years! My lordy.

I’m well and truly back on track after the Xmas Pork Fest. As you can see from the sidebar I’ve lost more weight. I was too scared to post last week because I think every time I write about how things are going well, I’ll screw up. But I am going to be brave and post, otherwise you’ll all forget I even have this stinking diary.

Things are going well with the eating. I’m managing to stick to my plan for the vast majority of the time, with "controlled outbreaks". So if I go out for dinner I’ll find something that looks relatively healthy and try to avoid the gin and tonic. Hehe. The only problem right now is exercise. My gym membership has expired and I can’t afford to fork out the monthly fees until we leave. I’m so itching to lift heavy things and kick and punch the air. So it’s been boring old walking, and that has been difficult due to my city being on fire and the air absolutely choked with smoke.

I may have to take up Naked Dancing Round The Living Room again.

My clothes seem to be getting baggy rather quickly these days. The jeans I bought a few weeks back, hipster ones, are now all rather floaty. It’s annoying because I can’t bloody afford new clothes, but crikey. I’d be an idiot if I complained about getting smaller. I have no idea what the hell I am going to pack for the UK. Nothing from last winter fits now. Any UK readers out there, what’s the situation with Fat Shops over there? Can big mamas get decent clothes? Or do we still have to wear mumu’s?

Speaking of the UK, I really need to get this site ship-shape before I leave. The pictures need to come back. You probably don’t believe I’m a real person do you? And I really need to update my sidebar, there’s a bazillion new journals I’ve spied lately. I am in awe of the zingy and delicious writing of Lose The Buddha, and of course I still lurve Robyn. I have one of those new fangled blogroll things, really gotta get that going.

Something strange has been happening lately. After all this time, the days in which I like me and feel attractive are starting to outnumber the DIE You Fat Ugly Cow! days. I don’t know what happened. I think I just decided to stop telling myself such rot all the time. I’ve wasted so much time convincing myself I am the rolypoly incarnation of the devil.

When questioning me about my lack of love life, my mother always told me my problem was I sent out Go Away, Don’t Get Close To Me vibes. I told her she was full of crap, it was because of my bulbous arse. But I’ve been to a few social events recently in which I decided to kiss my hangups goodbye. and just TALK to people and be smiley and not try and hide my body behind a pot plant.

And would you believe a little confidence (fuelled slightly by a glass of wine) goes a long way. I had some great conversations and got flirty and was asked for a phone number (something that has not happened to me ever before in my entire life). I stopped thinking of myself as The Fat Chick At A Party and became just another chick at a party, enjoying herself and having a laugh.

I am still 28.2 kg (62 lb) away from my ideal weight range, the charts insist I am still obese. But I feel good now about the skin I’m in. Sure my thighs are huge and my stomach sprawls but I’ve got a cute nose and nice boobs. It’s all about focusing on the good bits.

I feel like I am finally busting out this dark hole of loathing and despair. I’ve finally learned that people really DO pick up on the way you feel about yourself and respond to you differently. I thought it was just Cosmo bullshit. But the more cheery and foxy I feel, the more positive attention I get some people, whether it be friends, family, colleagues or cute boys at parties.

So maybe you should try it. Try thinking that you’re a fox, no matter how many tiers your wedding cake belly has. You never know what could happen.

(This entry is mostly written for me to read later for the benefit of my self-esteem when I’m in a pre-menstrual rage and think I’m so fat and ugly you should stick an apple in my mouth and throw me on a BBQ)

Another New Year

Here I am after the Christmas Break! Can you believe it’s almost two years since I started on this caper?

How are you all doing? I hope your festive season was a delightful, full of fatty foods and annoying cousins that you wish you could kneecap.

I forgot to write down my weight at my weigh-in today, but it was about a kilo heavier than it is there on the sidebar. Over the past six weeks I’ve been gaining and re-losing the same kilo. But damn, I’ve had a good time in the process.

Basically I was not strict with my eating. If there was a bottle of red, I drank it. If there was a slice of my grandma’s caramel pie, I ate it. And so this went on for over a month. But I didn’t overdo it like in the old days. And I managed to get in a lot of walking and a few trips to the gym.

So I’m not going to dwell on the slight gain. I got back from a little vacation on Sunday and since then I’ve been back on track with my eating. My sister is doing it too so it helps to have the old sister team going again!

I have big goals for this year. Actually I have big goals for the next eleven weeks! I want to go as "hardcore" as I can until March 25, as that is when I am leaving Australia! Yep, it’s finally happening. My sister and I are moving to the UK for two years for a working holiday. So I want to feel as good about myself by then as possible! Any Brit readers out there?

Also, does anyone know of where I can get a decent sports bra? My girls are bouncing all over the shop in Body Combat class. Hopefully somewhere that has online ordering if it’s a non-Aussie store. Thanks!

Happy New Year to you all, and hope you’re all motivated and geeked up for 2003 🙂