Say it loud, say it clear

For your aural pleasure!For the past two nights I’ve woken up at 2AM with The Living Years playing in my head, that cheesy Mike and the Mechanics tune that was #1 for about 79 weeks in Australia. Specifically the bit where the choir swoops in. There are few things that give me the heebie jeebies than a choir in a pop song… especially if it’s little kiddies singing. Whenever I hear Another Brick In The Wall I long to push the children off said wall…

(Actually I make an exception for the choir in Madonna’s Like A Prayer, that is a killer song!)

Anyway. I neglected to post about last week’s new Two Fit Chicks episode – Intuitive Eating II starring Christie of Honoring Health. She is extremely articulate and thoughtful on the topic and has had great success with changing her relationship with food. You can check it out over at the Two Fit Chicks website!

I was also a guest on The Because Show, an addictive podcast from L.A. where three friends meet weekly to chat about books and food and telly and life. I talked to the producer Jerilyn about book writing and life in Scotland. I also say “um” and “like” far too much and fail to disguise my ignorance re Scottish cashmere. You can check out The Because Show here.

So what’s your stance on choirs in pop songs? Do you have any irrational, petty hates you’d like to share? I also hate when people take something out of a microwave before the time is up then don’t reset it and/or leave the door open. BOO.

Now the men pay attention to me again

The Before and After photo thieves are at it yet again – this time I'm flogging diet pills in Germany!

Thank you to all the lovely German and Swiss readers who got in touch to let me know I've been popping up on GMX, a big Hotmail-ish site. With help of a legal eagle I've contacted the company and asked them in grand paragraphs of German to just bloody stop it.

I better hear back soon otherwise we'll be forced to unleash the threatening ping-pong kitties again!

There's quite a few different versions of this ad. Apparently one claims I'm happier and have more confidence and another translates to "I lost 35 Kilo. Now the men pay attention to me again!". Once again I've had nothing to do with these adverts and did not take any pills unless you count the occasional gobful of M&Ms which didn't exactly speed up the process πŸ™‚

Diet pills... just say no!

Green Tea Blues

Still stuck in the phoneless internetless dark ages since British Telecom cocked up our order again. But I had to sneak on elsewhere to thank everyone who emailed regarding the evil "Sandra" and her "weight loss blog" wherein she claims to have zapped 47 pounds by swilling green tea and snorting acai berries, while bearing an uncanny resemblance to yours truly.

Aye those photo stealers are at it again. Is it wrong to be less huffy about the identity theft than the fact they caption my before and after pics with a piddling 47 pound loss? Boo!

I've been trying to get the photos removed since Gordon first informed me last month and despite the kind advice of Twitter pals I've not been successful thus far. Next tactic is a Google Millennium Copyright Thingo. If anyone out there happens to stumble over the offending site, if you could let me know what search term you used that would be really helpful.

Meanwhile, I miss Internetland! What's been happening with you all? How's tricks?

It's rather quiet at Cow Poo Manor without you – just me and Dr G arguing over who should pick up a dog turd off our front lawn. Yes we now have steamy dog poo out front to complement the giant mountain of cow out back. It might even be fox poo, WHO KNOWS – it is a veritable barnyard. It was ME who ended up disposing of it,  for the record, because Dr G is a wuss and also promised to make me a cuppa if I did it.

Which leads us neatly back to the start of this entry – If It's Green Tea, It Ain't Me. The only tea I endorse is Yorkshire Gold, strong and milky!

UPDATE: I got a response from the purveyors of the product who say "Sandra" is an affiliate seller. They ordered her/him/it to take down the photos. And lo, a miraculous transformation! Sandra Williams remains a mother of two with a 47lb weight loss, but she's now a brunette.

Telly Report

The night before I laid out my outfit three different ways. First in a long line across the hotel room, in correct order of putting-on-ness. Then in alphabetical order. Then finally draped over a chair in formation, like I'd been flattened by a truck – dress splayed, tights dangling beneath, boots waiting below, bra and knickers in the right spot; I even balanced the earrings on the top of the chair. Just in case I couldn't remember how to get dressed by the time morning rolled round.

Yes, yes, the nerves again. I know you long-time visitors are bloody sick of hearing about them, but I still get frazzled before Big Unknown Events. I learned from the kickboxing grading that being ultra-prepared helps, so I slept better knowing that the clothes were in position and there were two alarm clocks and a wake-up call keeping them company.

I woke up by myself at the crack of dawn. Got dressed and then it was 6.15. Two hours to kill before I was due at CBS. I perched on the edge of the bed and practiced not slouching. All the different advice I'd been given played on a loop. Be calm. Enjoy yourself. Don't say anything stuuuupid!

Finally it was time to go and I walked with Christine the Most Excellent Publicist to the CBS studios, past the snow and stinky horses at the bottom of Central Park. We were taken to the Green Room, which was actually blue. It was full of televisions and coffee and food but I decided it would be best to not touch anything, knowing my tendency to scatter breakfasts on my chest. 


We chatted with the charming Green Room man then the makeup wizards spruced me up in three minutes flat…. zing! Then I paced and wrung my hands and let the terror and excitement buzz through me. Then the lovely producer arrived to go through the segment and I asked many panicky questions. 

"I can do a mock interview right now if you like," she offered, perhaps smelling my amateurism. But I said we'd best not, because if I answered questions now I'd use up all my brain juice and have no words left for the real thing!

The rest of it is a blur. It's like your wedding day, without the booze. I remember feeling like a goose for wearing a dress. If you wear a top and a skirt or trousers you can discreetly pull the microphone up the front of your top then attach the big lumpy battery thingo at the back on your waistband. But with the frock I had to dive right under it to pull the wee mic through, then they pulled the cord behind me and hooked it onto the belt of my dress, which meant I had walk across the set with the dress all hitched up in back, like when you see some lady come out of the loo in a restaurant and she hasn't pulled her skirt down properly and everyone whispers, Dude, poor lady's got her skirt tucked in her knickers. Shame job, as we used to say at my high school. Shame job! This was American Telly and they no doubt saw dress-wearing ninnies all the time, but still, thank goodness for 60 denier tights.

I sat down on the hot seat and looked around. It was so unreal. I wanted to laugh but stuck with shaking like the proverbial shitting dog. There was a teleprompter and cameras and bigass microphones and people with headsets and now a dainty lady sitting across from me, smiling in a calm and reassuring manner. This was Maggie Rodriguez, the anchor. We chatted for a few seconds and then she cleared her throat. Holy crap this is happening what's her name again what's MY name? Concentrate, concentrate

She asked me a question and I said something and my heart went brrrrrrrrrrrrt and I tried to tune out everything but her voice. I was full of wit and juicy soundbites the night before, in the hotel bathroom talking to myself in the hotel mirror – interview style, not Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver style. The real effort felt fine, competent with no real clangers. I was just getting into it when Maggie reached out to shake my hand.

I untangled the mic and restored my dress to the correct position. Job done, baby! Time to breathe again!

My only regret is that aside from the Green Room pic, I forgot to get photographic proof of the occasion. I walked back up to the CBS building right before I left for the airport and took some pictures through the window while some dude rolled his eyes at me. It's mostly a reflection of the Crate & Barrel store across the street but you can sort of see the spot. Top class!


I've been a rubbish blogger this week as I attempt get back into the swing of things at work and training, but wanted to say thank you for your comments and emails! Also a huuuuge thank you again to Christine and Pam and Jeanette and all the HarperCollins vixens for everything you've done for the ol DG book. You rawk!

Early Show Update Update Update

Howdy comrades! Wild gooses* could not keep me away from American television this morning, but I did not realise that my segment was being taped. D'oh! So my apologies for misinforming you again. It will be aired next week. It will!

So I have a couple more hours in this lovely town before I fly out, arriving in Edinburgh at 7.30am then off to the office where I will attempt to be a productive worker! Hope you are all well, wherever you may be.

* I know the plural of goose is geese but gooses/horses, poetic licence and all**

** Gareth just said, "Why wild gooses?" and I had to explain about the plane in the Hudson, the goose that got me bumped last week, geddit now Doc? πŸ˜›
Early Show Update Update Update Update: It's going to be screened tomorrow, Monday 26th January.

Early Show Update Update

This is getting a wee bit silly now… I've been postponed again. Should be Thursday morning now! Fingers crossed.

At the very least I have had a grand old time in this city. Today I soaked up the inauguration atmosphere in Times Square then guzzled orange juice and cold tablets in the hope of downgrading my nose from Rudolph Red by Thursday.

Now I just have to grovel to my boss again then go out and buy some more knickers!

News in Brief

Dietgirl Reader Gallery

I'm doing my best to carry on despite the heaviness in my heart following the untimely death of my beloved Basil the iPhone (some twerp put him in the washing machine). Sniff sniff πŸ˜›

So, apologies for the slackarse bullet points today! is back in stock, woohoo!

– The Dietgirl Reader Gallery has two new masterpieces. Germany and Switzerland represent! Thank you Julia and Bianca.

– The Virtual Book Tour is rolling on through Week Two. You can check out all the stops here!

Capessa chats with Dietgirl (and I sound half asleep)

– I'm going to New York tomorrow (!!!) then will be on The Early Show on CBS this Friday 16th January (!!!2). I'll be yapping about blogging and how it helped me bust the lard. Hopefully I won't spew from nervousness!

Results Not Typical

Many thanks to the eagle-eyed folk who wrote to say my Before and After photos have been pilfered to flog dodgy diet products. This time I’m singing the praises of a miraculous green tea concoction:

i reckon green tea tastes like brewed dirt

Another version of the site offers this glowing testimonial:


This has happened a few times before and no doubt will continue to happen so long as nicking images is as simple as right click, Save As. In the past I’ve got these types to desist simply by bombarding them with bossy emails. But these these jerks aren’t paying attention. I started out firm and polite and now I’m all SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS TAKE MY PICTURE DOWN Or I’ll Call My Squadron Of Imaginary Lawyers, but they ain’t scared!

yeah huh so what you gonna do about it

It’s a wee bit annoying to work your arse off for half a decade and see Doctor Dodgy’s Amazing Green Tea Goo try to steal the credit. Fer shame.   If any beverages deserve applause here it would be water, vodka, and Nambarrie tea.

So in conclusion, if you see my ginger mug beside a rapturous endorsement, please don’t gasp in horror, "She lied on her blog! For seven years! It was the green tea all along!" It ain’t me! It ain’t meeee heeee!

. .  .

Twitter update: My page is working again! Just in time for another Twitter bug to wipe out 75% of my followers. If you like pointless missives of 140 characters or less, I’m your lady!

Steamy Windows

Last night I…

  • … sneaked off to Anstruther with Gareth for fish and chips by the sea. It was a clear, sunny evening and we were stressed oot our skulls so decided that LARD WAS THE ANSWER. By the time we queued for the goods it was freezing outside, so we ate in the car (fish and chips me, chip butties for him) and the windows got all steamed up. This is the kind of steamy window action enjoyed by the dull and married.
  • … finished listening to The Time Traveler’s Wife! Argh! I was supposed to save it for walks only, but I got hooked and gorged on the whole thing. Do you see a pattern here!?
    I’ll have to get to the library because audiobooks aren’t cheap. Did you know the movie version comes out later this year, starring Australia’s Eric Bana as the time travellin’ fella? Mrrrowr.
  • … cleaned the oven. The oven had not been cleaned for seven years. Imagine the carnage.
  • … did a rocking interview with an Irish radio station called i102104. I was on the iTalk show with Chris Greene and Mary McGill. I didn’t think you could listen online because the website link on Mary’s email didn’t work, and it didn’t occur to me to ask or bloody Google it myself until after the fact. Tis a pity because it was lots of fun, as it always seems to be with the lovely, lovely Irish folk. I think I was a bit wacky from the fish and chips because when they asked me how and when my weight issues started, I blurted that when I was a child I, "turned to chocolate because I was too young for crack". OH dear.

Tonight Dr G and I are cleaning the kitchen in readiness for painting, so this is the shoddy entry you get instead of the Proper One I’ve been trying to finish for two weeks. But summer is coming and we are desperate to finish fixing up the flat. We are so bloody bored of fixing up the flat. It’s been chaos since last September when we kicked off with the wallpaper stripping. You cannot move for tripping over paint pots and tile cutters and mountain bikes. The kitchen is the biggest pain in the arse – right now the fridge is in the hallway, the microwave is in the bathroom and the spaghetti jar is on top of the telly. An organised kitchen is the most sacred, fundamental element of my health and well-being routine so I’m feeling rather edgy at the moment.