Return of the Spiral Perm

I think it's brilliant that Time magazine has devoted such a great slab of space to healthy eating this week. There's some brilliant information there.

But what the bloody hell is up with the cover? Those earrings are scaring me. Does Cosmo know their July 1985 cover has been plagarised? Are we going to see TAB make a comeback in the soda aisles? Is it time to dust off our legwarmers?


Has anyone ever been whacked over the head with a steak by a I Hate Carbs person after you tried to explain what complex carbs are and how they're good for you? I really think the paragraph below sums up the whole thing about carbs and why people get their knickers in a knot about them. It's all been misinterpreted.

"This problem of mistaken identity extends to quite a few of the foods we commonly call carbohydrates. First, a tiny rant about the word carbohydrate. When nutritionists first advised us to replace some of the fats in our diets with complex carbohydrates, what they had in mind was beans, fruits, leafy green vegetables and whole grains. What we loaded up on was pasta, white rice and French fries. Technically, we were following the rules, but by focusing on these highly processed or refined foods, we were missing out on a lot of antioxidants and other important nutrients. And we found out, much to the detriment of our waistlines, that it's a whole lot easier to overeat pasta, rice and potatoes than apples and broccoli."

The rest of the article is here.

Boeing 747 Arms

Howdy kids. How is life treating you? I hope you are well. Have you had a good week? I am craving interaction. Here, have a fat-free cookie and a glass of air and tell Aunty Dietgirl.

I’m still trucking along. The scales aren’t doing much yet the inches seem to be inching away. I have been working weekends so the lack of break means I’ve been very tired and cranky and prone to spontaneous napping instead of exercise. Still keeping up with the Body Balance and weights though.

I need to refocus. I still see myself as Supersized so sometimes I let myself believe I can get away with eating a bit more. But I think I need to cut back my portions and move my arse with more dedication. So here’s some new little goals that I will tell you all here so I will get the guiltypants if I don’t come up with the goods.

1. I’m going to start walking up and down the hilly streets near where I live, which is a cardio workout the boobs can handle until I get a new sports bra.

2. Ingunn mentioned NutriDiary the other day, and I am going to give it a go. I haven’t written down what I ate for ages, and I’ve never counted calories, but I do like clicking clicking clicking and filling in web forms. NutriDiary is pretty and I am mesmerized by the groovy little glass graphics that you click on to indicate how much water you’ve drunk! Rock and roll!

Some online peoples have said to me recently that I look "pretty normal" and maybe I don’t need to lose any more weight. Ahh, I wish that were the case! I think the problem is the photos make me look better than the reality. I am worried that picture is a bit deceiving.

I am still around 20 kilos (44lb) above even the very top of my ideal weight range. I am still a size 18 (well I was last time I bought clothes). My arse may be shrinking but I still have all manner of rolls on the front side. And my thighs are thunderous! How they clang and clash as I gallumph down the street. And my arms! The front size of them have developed rather impressive biceps, but on the underside it’s all turkey gobble. I am sure if I flapped my arms long enough I could fly back to Australia for free.

So yeah. I am still lardy. I think the clothes hide it, and the fact that a lot of the weight has come off my face and shoulders might things look smaller. I think my proportions make it look like I am not that lardy, but when I stand beside 90% of people I know, you can see I am still a hefty lass. I really should put something in the photos to give you some perspective. Like a carton of milk or a television. Then you could say, "Oh yeah, now I see! Her arse is still huge when you look at it in relation to a telephone box".

Save The Whales

I have issues with Scary Bastard, one of my gym instructors. He a wonderful instructor; slightly aggressive but in a fun, teasing kind of way. He really makes us work hard and is a stickler for technique, which is good. But I hate how he never makes eye contact with me. He makes eye contact with plenty of other people, and not just the nubile blondes down the front. He says hello to the old grannies and the scruffy guys. But he never ever looks my way. He never corrects my form. He never tells me to kick harder ot to squat deeper as he prowls around the class.

Of course this fuels my paranoia. As I huff and puff beneath the barbells, my little brain is seething. What the hell is wrong with ME buddy? Why won’t you acknowledge my presence? Is it because I am usually (still, after all this effort) the biggest person in the room? Is it because I am freakishly uncoordinated? Is it because my clothes are old and two sizes too big and I don’t look the part? Is it because you think I don’t belong there? Why? WHY? Huh huh huh?

I must learn to channel this petty rage into my workout. Thighs of Steel shall be mine.

I’ve been feeling like a big fat Blobby McBlob lately. While my body is the smallest it’s been for almost a decade, I wouldn’t have a clue what it looked like under the great flapping tents of my clothes. They’re getting a bit problematic. I came over here six months ago with just one suitcase, it’s surprising how little 20 kilos of luggage amounts to. I had bugger all clothes in the first place – a pair of jeans, three pairs of pants and about 5 tops. Wearing the same outfits for work and play over six months means they are starting to look a little ratty. To make it worse, I’ve lost about ten kilos in that time, which means everything I bought over is now getting too big. Even that size 18 suit I babbled on about is getting baggy. My gym pants got too big, so now the tracksuit pants I wear to bed are also serving as workout gear. So basically whether it’s work or gym, I look like a blob. SEX-AY!

I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the concept of Working Holiday visas, but the idea is you come to the UK, work a wee bit, travel a wee bit, and so on. I’ve only managed to find temporary sort of jobs, and we’ve plowed all our paltry income into rent and travel. Oh we’ve had a great time, but bloody hell, I look like SHIT! My mum keeps asking me When Are You Going To Find A Nice Scottish Boy, but it’s hard to be sexy when you’re constantly hauling your jeans up and your boobs are slopping all over the place.

Anyway, things will get better. My sister and I have both found jobs again and have budgeted November as the time in which we will buy new gym pants and get a haircut. I used to get my hair cut every five weeks; it has now been five months. What a shock to the system for someone who used Cool Haircuts as means of diverting attention from a Fat Arse! Hehe.

One tiny thing that I must moan about it is the Sports Bra Situation. The Girls are swimming. I think I need a couple of sizes smaller, there’s just no support at all. It’s gotten so bad and painful that I was holding my chest whenever we had to run or kick in Body Combat class. Now if it was real combat, how fearsome would I be? Beware the Flying Blubbery Boobs of Destruction! Hiiiyyyah! My enemies would run for the hills! But in my dinky little class it means I am not getting in a good workout because it’s too bloody uncomfortable.

After Robyn’s testimonial, I decided to go for an Enell Sports Bra. Industrial strength scaffolding, how could I go wrong? So I’d been so good saving up my pennies to buy one. But there was an Incident down at the Bank, and I was overdrawn for half a day and the bank charge happened to be the same amount as the bra. Waaah! So for the past three weeks I’ve not done any Combat at all. My cardio has been limited to walking.

I know I don’t deserve any sympathy as I voluntarily moved to the UK and into certain poverty, but if anyone reading happened to win the lottery this week or would like to donate to the Supress The Breasts Of Dietgirl Fund, I’d love to hear from you!

Hope you’re all having a great week!