Wednesday, January 31, 2007


I'm really cranky and tired. Whole family kept me up last night. Two sick kids and a sick husband - and the new mattress I was so happy about - fucking squeaks at the slightest movement and makes too much noise. But how is one supposed to know this, eh? You can't return it once the polythene is off it but who's going to sleep on the matress for two weeks with polythene rustling all the time - just cannot win! So I'm home again with another sick kid - who happened to barf fruit juice all over my favourite chair while I was making my own breakfast. She seems better for the empty belly but I'll see if I can get something in her and then let her down for a nap soon. I would have a nap too but I really just want to play games on the DS - such a dork.

I have all of these books I want to read but I'm just not interested right now. I can't keep my attention span long enough to get into one of them - still haven't finished the tractor on the sidebar.

Worst of all, I'm stuck having to babysit a tamagotchi all day. Like the real child who's sick isn't bad enough I have to clean a fake pet's poop every ten minutes.

Tamagotchis and Tellytubbies. And once upon a time, I was kind of cool. My biggest excitement today is the fact my house smells nice because I bought a new fabric softener and put some towels on the radiators to dry. *sigh*

Ok, but this has made me laugh

Monday, January 29, 2007

A friend of mine who is also COE remarked that she was going to begin overeaters anonymous. She's been reading a book called Overcoming Overeating where my friend says:

" book tells me that any binge food, such as cookies, I have to go and buy 6 packs of them from the supermarket, they say that overeaters are the ones with empty fridges and cupboards...I have to train myself to believe that they will always be there that I do not need to eat them all at once. If I eat the whole pack I must not get angry and just replace them the next day. It is a good concept and does work I am just not quite there with it cos I just eat more and more cookies!"

Well damn, so would I! Geez, would you leave a heroin junkie in the same house with six fixes in the cupboard for them? A pack of cigarettes for one not smoking? It's a mental idea! It's downright cruel - sets that person up for failure. It's rubbish, I say, RUBBISH! Besides, I'm COE and I have cupboards bulging with food. I mean where's the logic in saying someone who eats all the time wouldn't have food in their house?? So here you are - a bunch of pictures of my tiny, messy and overflowing kitchen.

The Fridge
Top cupboard (with stains that cannot be removed)
Bottom cupboard
The counter (which is tidy now, but that's all the workspace I have)
Tonight's dinner(chicken and stir-fry veg with sweet soy and spring onion sauce)

So, definitely not empty. Not even very tidy - but I try. I don't have a lot of storage space, but I am promised a new kitchen next year so That'll be nice. For the new owners. Seems like everytime we get a new kitchen we move house.

Could anyone find the sweets??

I've been bad...

I've spent money on new clothes this weekend. Essentials; sweaters and underpants. Cotton underpants. Essentials I said. So I said to myself, I'm not spending any more money on non essentials, must save and be careful and smart and wise.

So of course when I noticed these great, mid-calf, red Dr. Marten boots, I just had to buy them. I mean they were only £40! So, from now on. I'm not spending any more money frivolously. Nope. Not me. Halo on.

But, crap. I've forgotten to do a Smart Bitches Day post. I blame the illness of both my kids for my lackluster performance and uhm, temporary insanity. Yeah. Sorry Beth.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

One Year of Fitness!!

Today is the one year anniversary of when I took the steps to become fit and healthy. A year ago I was very fat, very out of shape and had no energy. I was in a very deep state of denial of how bad I really was, but as I've mentioned before, turning 34 was a smack in the face. My Father was 34 when he was diagnosed with diabetes, and there I was fat and addicted to sweets and white bread and following very close in his footsteps. I made the choice to not carry on down that path - I could change things. I could be better.

I did not consult a doctor for advice due to my deep level of shame, but I found an online diet community and shared everything with them - these strangers who also have the same troubles, issues and struggles. Through them I found inspiration, strength and also courage not to follow the easy solutions of starvation and pills; something very tempting when desperate for change. Now, I'll admit, it is a Pro-Ana website but as I've discovered, not everyone there is anorexic, and no one could ever say I am anorexic. Actually, I'm a compulsive over eater. If anything, reading the very sad stories of some of these women and girls, how they suffer and struggle and despise themselves gave me the power to not make those same mistakes. I would like to think that by being someone who tries to eat healthy (damn my sweet tooth though, it always lets me down) and exercise, to accept the weight loss as it comes, even though it's very slow I could also inspire them. That this is not going to be a diet, but a way of life. To accept that it took me 10 years to get from a size 10 to a 22, so it's not going to be quick or easy to lose all that weight.

A year ago I took my measurements, here they are:

Height - 5'8" (okay, 7 and 3/4, but gimme a break)
Weight - 238 lbs/17 stone/107.9 kilo (size 22)

Measurements(in inches)
neck - 15
chest - 38
upper arm - 15.5
waist - 40
hips - 48
thighs - 28
calves - 17

And here's what I looked like:
malk-julie 006Sept 03

Oh dear. Yup, I look like I was stung by a bee. Awful. The picture on the right was taken in December for our X-mas cards. I refused to post them. The jeans shot was taken in August 2003, I had recently bought those jeans, a men's 38X32, and as you can see they are extremely tight. I was also about 4 weeks pregnant with Shorty and miserable. By December 2005 those jeans were too small for me.

Six months of exercise and those jeans were falling off me. Aug 06 And today they don't fit me at all, but I keep them as a reminder. I also keep the big bum picture in my wallet as a deterrent for buying junk food.

I think the changes in my face have been very noticeable too. Here's a series:

malk-julie 006Feb 06May 06Jan 25 2007

The last one was taken this morning. (I need some bronzer).

Fitness wise I have progressed in such ways even I could never have imagined. Of this I am the most proud. I've gone from early workouts that lasted 45 minutes - 25 minutes of cardio and 20 minutes of very light weights, to two hour sessions of 60 minutes of high impact cardio and a rotation of weightlifting exercises where I currently do 30kgs on legs, 20kgs on arms and chest, and I can squat 140lbs. I'll burn around 1000 calories per workout, 4-5 days a week. I can also run for three miles in just over a half hour and I'm training for my first 5K and 10K sponsored runs.

My measurements are now:

Height: 5'7" (Yes I've shrunk, I blame falling arches)
Weight: 203lbs (in a plateau since Oct. 05) (size 16)

neck - 13.5
chest - 36
waist - 35
hips - 40
thighs - 23.5
calves - 15.5
upper arms - 13

That may not look too impressive for a year's worth of hard work, but do understand I've gained a lot - a lot - of muscle over this time so the numbers will not look dramatic. I'll have to get the Hubs to take a picture of me in my gym kit so you can see the differences yourself. I admit I have about another 40-50lbs to lose, my goal weight has had to be changed from 130lbs up to 145lbs. This is because I used a body fat monitor a couple weeks ago and it showed that my base muscle weight is 130lbs, so I've had to increase my target.

I am in no hurry to reach those targets, I let my body tell me what it needs. Right now it's crying out for more exercise - my body loves it. It also likes to eat - a lot. I struggle with portions and cravings. It was far easier to quit smoking than to give up sugar. Actually...I've not really given up sugar. Bad bad Lyvvie. Thankfully, I don't have any sagging loose skin so I assume these plateau times are adjustment times.

So there. You now know my secrets.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

This bothers me even more...

Ok, so obviously I'm a bit sensitive to advertising where they actually send damaging messages to women rather than sell us a product. Exhibit two for your perusal: Weight Watchers. It's everyone in this woman's life who are commenting on her amazing weight loss; her Husband, her friends, her family, her doctor...and her beautician. The beautician says, whilst waxing the legs of another client, "Our appointments take half the time now." with a big grin on her face. HOW RUDE!! See for yourself (click the "click here" button). Now apart from that, it's not so bad of an advert, but what a nasty thing to say - "Now that she ain't so fat anymore, I'm not wasting tons of wax on her cheesy thighs, heeheee!"

Some feminist websites have commented on the husband being bad because "He's got back the woman he married." because whether she's fat or thin, she's always been the woman he married, but I understand that her own personal sense of pride and self-esteem have probably returned and she's probably not such a depressed mope about her weight. You know what he's saying is "Now that she's thin again, I get to see her naked once in while and we're having sex at least twice a week! WeyHey!"

And don't you love how the mother almost tried to take credit for her daughter's hard work, and then offers up a slight insult at the end; "Big time". Ugh!

I also find it annoying that we never see the woman who everyone's talking about. She's a phantom. Sorry, but before and after shots always work best for me - show me it works, don't just tell me about it.

Ok, now the more I look at it, I just hate this ad too.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Monday, January 22, 2007

This makes me mad!

Pantene have just launched a new series of ads that promote their new formulas for different hair types. Most of them are alright, but there's two that have rather offensive and damaging messages attached to them. The one for smooth hair readsMake Love, Not Dinner and when you see the advert on TV that includes of all the products, called the rainbow ad, there's a bit that says "Buy Flowers, Not Groceries." I don't understand why Pantene would be saying these things?

It's hard enough for women to remain health focussed and natural when we are being manipulated constantly be the media to be thin, but when shampoo ads are telling us to stop eating it's insane. Sure a poor diet will make the quality of your hair deteriorate, but I doubt Pantene's products can battle malnutrition.

I think by showing a thin and beautiful woman skipping through the town market buying herself a gorgeous bouquet of flowers instead of her weekly groceries is irresponsible because you know some college kid is going to do that. Let's hope she gets an edible bouquet because by Thursday she'll be regretting her decision. To say "Make love not dinner" is outrageous. Am I sexier because I grab the Husband and drag him up the stairs while shouting to my kids "Sort yourself out for food kids, Mommy's not making dinner tonight." It's just wrong.

I want to rant on more, but I'm really cold and have to run errands. In fact I think today I'll go and buy groceries so I can make the dinner, ask Husband to buy some flowers and then when the kids are asleep, we can make love. See, that's how smart women plan their lives around their families. And I'll be able to do all this without the aid of Pantene.

See for yourself, and tell me what you think. I seriously hate these ads. They send the wrong message about maturity and responsibility. They tell women to be pretty objects, who should be available for sex despite their own needs. All in under 60 seconds. I know a lot of men would agree with that - but they're just prats. I've complained about it. I don't usually get so annoyed by something that I complain, but this one, yeah I sent a complaint. I may just have to send a link to Ms. magazine too.

I wonder what Germaine Greer would say about it?

Friday, January 19, 2007

Some Exhausted Evening...

I have been having really vivid, involved and long dreams as of late. My dreamlife is very interesting and I really look forward to sleeping because I just don't know what's going to happen. This is a side effect of the anti-anxiety medication I'm taking. I want to state categorically that I am not depressed, but I am a high energy, preemptive worrier and morose planner. Having kids has magnified this, and constant worry over their health, safety and care drive me to be a big ball of stress. I'm taking citalopram to control the anxiety while I work with a counselor to learn how to manage the weird crap that comes into my head.

I'm having very weird dreams and I figure, since I'm having fun with them I should share them up. Go ahead and be my Freud if you want to, analyze away because I don't see anything in it. I always find I'm watching myself in these dreams. I sometimes see the action through my own eyes, but mostly I'm detached, like I'm watching a movie.

So the other day I dreamed it was snowing, really hard. There was an accumulation of about two feet (that's a lot for here) and the snow plows weren't getting down my street. The problem wasn't the snow, but that someone had gone into everyone's gardens and pulled all their stuff out into the front street so it was covered in dumped garbage cans, barbecues and lawn furniture, picnic tables, bricks, paving stones and children's toys. Just piled up everywhere. It was dark and the orange streetlight on the snow cast everything a peachy glow, and the falling snow was settling on everything. It was eerie quiet and yet everyone was out looking around thinking where to start to sort this out. Then from above came a sofa, chair other furniture just raining down on top of us. The contents of our houses were being lobbed at us from the roofs. We couldn't see who it was but no one wanted to run into their homes to stop them. We were scrambling about trying to take cover and rescue our things. The snowplow decided he'd had enough of this and began plowing down the road, demolishing all of our things. It remained very quiet the whole time, like a silent movie. All I could hear was that calming sound of snow falling on a still night.

Last night I dreampt about, well I'm not sure where it began. I was with a couple of generic dream friends, but in the dream we were all very close - they were a couple. We were out in the glorious warm sunshine and planning on a picnic and then going to an international football game. The guy friend (who has no name so we'll call him Guy) was good friends with a famous Italian footballer, who also has no name so he'll be Tony. Anyways I meet Tony and he's very nice, and oddly attentive. I'm no stunner and I'm not a football fan, so I have no clue why he's bothering, but he comes across as all sweet and boy next door. He says I must sit in good seats, we are all invited to the private box and he puts his arm around me and escorts us up to the best seats on this enormous open stadium (reminded me of the Quidditch world cup one in Goblet of Fire).

The game isn't going to start for ages and I decide I'm going to be mean to Tony. It's that mean thing girls do to see if a guy is having a laugh at her expense or is he really interested - but it usually ends in him not being interested and leaving her feeling dumb and vindicated at the same time. So we play cards, and I win. He says that as the winner I can have anything I want. I say I want his hair, as he has shoulder length gorgeous dark brown hair. He smiles and hands me some scissors and I just hack away at his hair, leaving the front bits and taking all of the back off. I tie the locks together and wave them about like a duster, taunting him.

All of a sudden the stadium lifts off the ground and lurches forward - giving me the odd feeling of being on a run away open parade float. Tony grabs me before I fall backwards down the flights of stairs and sits me next to him. I feel so awful for being mean to him and I apologise. He laughs and says it's just hair. The stadium is flying about, apparently to land where the match is to take place - in Tony's home town in Italy. When we stop he gets up and looks around (The whole time my friends are there chatting, hugging and just being support characters but not really being important.)

People start coming into the stadium and then a group enter the box and I'm introduced to Tony's brother (who looks like a musclebound thug) and his wife who is a minute fashionista who coos and cowers sweetly but looks bored with her on stage performance and wants to get to her blackberry asap. The brother puts a hand out to shake mine but then reaches up and squeezes my breasts, impressed that they are not fake. I'm embarrassed and very uncomfortable, Tony apologizes for his brother and then says he must go to the game. I sit back down with my friends and we watch the match - poor tony with his hacked up hair, but he plays great and looks very happy. He waves up at me and I feel kind of happy. Then the alarm goes off.

Anyways, I've spent the past hour trying to find someone on google images who looks like Yony but I've been far too distracted so I'll just post this now and get back to, uhm, work. Shhhhhhh.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Makes me laugh and cry in fear...

Back in December I toyed with the idea of posting this story but decided against it, but now I wish I had because it's update is fabulous. Back in December a gang of youths went into the Burger King on Princes Street Edinburgh and went primal and trashed the place, while full of customers with the staff cowering behind the counters. They didn't hurt anyone, just thought it would be fun to be monkeys for a while. One of the kids taped the debacle and used commentary, describing himself and his pals and what they were doing, their favourite football club etc. They managed to run away before the police got there. But have no fear, they were caught, after an Evening News reader found the video posted on You Tube of the whole rampage(Under the heading "MA M8 GOT LIFTED AND SMASHED AN A WALKED IN AT THE END F****G SH*TE LOL." but it's gone now, shame) and called it in to the police. An arrest was easy to make since the kid doing the videoing used his real name.

The Register did a follow up on this yesterday

Here's the Scotsman Newspaper article complete with comments that are great. (Just in case you are wondering, a "Ned" is Edinburgh-speak for "non-educated delinquent". They are also known as Chavs.

Anyway, haha. Twerps. Serves them right. But I'm worried that one day my daughter may bring one home to meet us. I'll be playing the devil/angel game in my head over do I chase this fuckwit out of my house with a red hot spatula, or do I play along in the hopes that my apparent acceptance will sour her rebellion? ARGHHH!

And just so you know while posting this I've had three kids running wild up and down the stairs, around my house shouting "Smelly Pooh! Smelly pooh!" and giving me a thumper of a headache before 8:30, so what's the accepted time of day to start drinking?

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Once upon a time...

I would come out with weird thoughts, wonderments and stories. I would speak these to a trusted person and they would engage in converastion and the small seed of idea would blossom into something bigger, more beautiful and elaborate. It was great fun.

Hence my disappointment at the recent conversation we shared in the car.

Me: "Have you ever wondered if every air breathing creature on Earth took in one enormous breath all at the same time, would we be able to suck in all the available oxygen? And then would we all perish before the plants could make more? "

Husband: "No."

I still think the question warrants more thought.

On a positive note, Shorty did her first poop in the toilet today. We are very proud and hope this bodes well for the future, as I am tired of cleaning poop everyday. So WooHoo Shorty!!

Sunday, January 14, 2007

I'm better than Vidal Sassoon...

I am most talented! I just gave my husband his first hair cut. No, wait. I just cut my husband's hair for the first time. No, that's still not right. No wait, yeah it is. He let me give him a haircut and it came out really good. Blended sides, neck shaved to precision squareness never once nicked his ears or aimed scissor points at his eyes. I did jab him a little bit with the combs but it was only because I was nervous and it didn't really hurt him. And he likes the final result, and he's not saying that just to make me happy. He says it's just as it is when he goes to the barbers, but better because I'm soft and pat his head and shoulders and he gets to peer down my blouse when I stand in front of him.

I did clipping, blending, choppy triangle cuts, edging and damage control (no scars were over exposed into bald spots.) I am now salon quality stylist. He won't let me put a picture of him on the blog though because we made a rule of my never posting his image on my blog (forgot about that when I put up our wedding pictures last year on our 10th, oh well) so you can't see how nice he looks. But I'm pouting about because it makes it seem like he's embarrassed about the hair and not about the, uhm, face? Yeah there's no way I'm going to talk my way around that but let's just accept the fact he's shy and doesn't want me to share him with the world. Fine. I s'pose. Tshhh.

See, all those years of dog grooming aren't wasted.

Friday, January 12, 2007

Right, for the dozenth time today, NO I have not had a perm. It's raining. My hair goes extra curly when it rains. It's natural. Leave me alone about it ok, I just got rained on a little bit and was turned into a poodle. Leave me alone or I'll bite you.

Now, tell me, is it wrong that I readjust and plump up my breasts for when the local lipstick lesbian comes around? Is it wrong that her opinion of my perkiness matters more than my husband's? I mean a woman who appreciates women in such completeness would have a higher opinion of a woman's form right? Or am I just being weird?

I'm liking Celebrity Big Brother, but not loving it. They had a much more riotous gang last year. Jermaine Jackson has turned out to be really smart, mild mannered, sweetie. Although he does toss out a lot of "California self-help speak" like he listens to every Dr. Somebody's radio show. It's this kind of "I'm so smart and deep that I can see into your soul, my brother." kind of crap which I find cuts with a friendly edge of condescension I can't tolerate. Then they get in a hurt-huff when you tell them to fuck off. Sit and spin you puffed up pseudo-shrinks, sit and spin.

I'm so lucky there's no Dairy Queen here because I'd totally murder a Peanut Buster Parfait. I like mine with chocolate ice cream and extra fudge. Actually, who needs ice cream.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

It's been a great back to routine kind of week. The house is quieter, the house is cleaner, the house is mine again.

I had a super weird dream last night that an internet freind of mine, who I'll not name at this point, had their hair done recently and I was meeting her for the first time and when I got into the car with her, as she was driving, she had the most hideous hair I'd ever seen. It was permed at the crown, and badly because it was frizzy and broken like the chemicals had just burned the hair and it was breaking at about an inch long in some areas, with tight frizzy curls around the stumpy bits. Not only was the top of her head permed, but it was bleached white blond. The rest of her hair was greased down straight with product and had that burned hair smell of straightener abuse, and was an orangey-auburn down to her shoulders. The top two inches of straight roots were also bleached white so she had a line of colour around her head where the auburn met the blond. She kept looking at me accusingly and asking "Are you looking at my hair?" "No, uhm no just looking out the windows." But I got the feeling she was going to scalp me in my sleep. It was seriously weird and awkward.

I've written before about how my get fit kick was started because I'd turned 34 and became scared that I was on the path to diabetes because my Dad was disgnosed diabetic at 34. So a year later, 40lbs lighter and going from a sedentary to very active lifestyle you'd think I'd be past the diabetes worry. Well you'd be wrong.

I was in the gym yesterday talking to friend who has a similar family history to mine. She's lost over 80lbs in a year with Weight Watchers, and like me she was worried she'd get diabetes. She said she'd become worried recently when she got a yeast infection. She'd not had one for years but all of a sudden, there she was. she obsessed about the fact that recurring yeast infections are an early sign of diabetes. I sat there and nodded and listened, but the whole time my heart rate was skyrocketing. See, I've had a recurring yeast problem since October. I just put it down to lowered immune system, too much gym work, exhaustion and too many sweets and bread in my diet. Just the day before, I'd gotten a new prescription from the Dr. for canestan that I was planning to collect after the gym.

When I got the prescription I asked for another appt. with the Dr. to discuss this worry. I got a meeting with her for 5:30 last night, she suggested a fasting blood sugar count which I was able to do first thing this morning. Annoyed about having been stuck three times before a vein would cooperate and give up three vials of blood. I already have a huge bruise on the back of my left hand - yes the best place to get blood out of me is my hand. I have rolling veins that tend to collapse. Funny enough, when I doanted blood a couple months ago, they had no trouble at all getting my arm to work for them. I filled the bag in seven minutes. Yes I get competitive about everything - even how fast I can fill a pint bag with my blood. I should have the results next week. they even threw in a cholestrol count for me, now ain't that sweet?

I've been to the gym this morning, had breakfast with my pal where we shared equally horrible stories of disastrous New Year's - hers was bad because she got back from cancelled fireworks in Edinburgh to find her babysitters were totally drunk and her four boys were still up and running around at 1am. She didn't have her keys and her second eldest refused to let her in because he knew he'd be sent to bed once his parents got in the house, so he ignored their banging on the back patio door even though he was sitting right there and they could see him.

I've spent my afternoon looking online at shoes. I don't want to buy shoes, but for some reason I'm looking at them. I really want chocolate. Chocolate cake. Thick fudgey cake with rich chocolatey frosting that's all gooey and shiny and smooth. A whole cake and who cares about a fork just gimme.

I'm such a sugar addict.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Big Bag O'Books

Oh yes, I got me a big bag o'books! I 'll tell you all about it. I went into work last night, and as you may know I work the night shift in our local grocery store stocking shelves for fun, peace away from the kids and shoe money. My manager said I should use the rolling table she left on the other side of the shop, so I went to get it. When I found it, it had a full box of romance novels on the bottom of it. About 60 books. I went back and asked her what I should do with them. "Oh, they're removed from stock, we've torn off the back covers so you can just bag them and chuck them in the bin."

Well my shock and horror at throwing away any book was huge. "Can I have them?" I asked and she had a look of, we're not really supposed to let you have them, but she said ok and that all I had to do was pit some money in the store charity box. I got them for two pounds - don't judge me for the cheap donation. I wonder what the authors would think if they knew grocery stores just tore off the back covers and threw the books in the bin? Seems so mean, they put in all that effort for the story to end up in a dumpster.

So now I have a huge bag of books. Now I admit that some of them are repeats, and some are not my kind of thing, like "A Daddy for Christmas" , not my thing, but it's probably someone else's thing. I'm going to pick through my favourites and donate the rest to either the local hospital, or nursing home. The image of a bunch of grannies reading through a bag of Mills and Boons makes me giggle.

I also bought a hugs bouquet of posh flowers on sale for three pounds and will give them to my MIL to help her feel better. I'm sure it won't be appreciated, but it's the thought that counts or so I'm told. I may treat myself to flowers one day...

Working tonight, will be tired cookie tomorrow. Shorty must stop climbing into bed with me and cuddling me to death every morning at half six. I just can't manage.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

So here we are...

It's an all new year and it's shiny and great and fab. It should be fab. Any minute now. I was promised a fab new year, honest it's all supposed to be like a clean slate, all those niggly, chalky troubles should've been clapped away in the breeze by the naughty kid who got eraser duty and decided to stamp "shit" on the school wall instead. But I'm still waiting...

Our New Year was somewhat ruined by a Nor'Easter that forced all festivities to be cancelled. My father-in-law suffered a rather spectacular nervous breakdown that's had everyone shocked, concerned and telling bad jokes. It consumes a lot of energy. I'm not going to get into it.

Oh, and I turned 35. That's about all I have to say about that. I did get a bottle of Coco Chanel bath gel, and Pink's I'm Not Dead CD which I look forward to. And it's nice to know, I'm Not Dead either. I had bought a bottle of champagne to pop at the bells, but I fell asleep and it's still in the fridge.

The diet starts again in full swing, minus the chocolate clearing out we finished today. Exercise will be back on course after a two month half-assed effort and I'm determined to lose the last 30lbs. I mean that in the sense that I'll never have back again. I'm having to reassess my targets because I did one of those BMI/bodyfat analysis things and found out my muscle weight is currently at 130lbs, which had been my weight target target, so now I'm going to have to re-adjust it to about 145-155lbs to accommodate the muscle I want to gain and still maintain a healthy body fat. I'm also beginning training for a 10K. I figure I can shift the weight in six months if I behave myself. I know the exercise part will be easy, but the diet part has me wrinkling my nose and planning "I hate salad" sit-ins.

So, who wants to know the truth about how much weight/inches I've lost so far? Anyone? I hate to be boring about fitness crap - it's one thing with other fitness nerds but I can usually see the eyes glazing over on normal folks, and who wants a glazed eye blog? Not me.

But I am proud that if anyone says to me "Drop and give me twenty!" I can. Can you? Not that I expect anyone to spot check my push-ups ability but I often wish I could bump into Mrs. Coburn, my old gym teacher, and show her. She'd appreciate it. If she's still alive. Ah she's the sort who would be running marathons well into her 80's, Bless her.

I miss my Dad. I want Cherry Garcia. I still need to buy protein shake powder. Chicken breast, chicken breast, chicken breast. Down with bread, down with sugar. I still want to see Casino Royale. I am almost debt free and it feels wonderful, but now comes the squirreling away and saving plans that bring a new hatred for the taxman. I still love my breasts, still hate my ass. I'm away now to watch a Kung Fu movie; Zatoichi, should be raw. It's the Takeshi Kitano one.

Happy New Year to you all.