Dieting Days Are Here Again!

It's the same thing every year. The sun starts flaunting it's rays hither and thither in gay abandon and my wardrobe responds accordingly. The dull greys and browns are pushed up the end of the rail and all the oranges, limes, whites and pinks are fluffed up for another summer season. So far, so great!

Trouble is my body is still sporting:
a. its Christmas excess (1980 on)
b. its remaining baby blubber (from 1993)
c. saddle-bag writers arse
d. indications of early onset middle age spread
e. sedentary flab from having the hideous Trochanteric Burtsitis for 4 years (Google it - you'll wish you hadn't!)
f. Lazyitis without even a lapsed Gym membership as an excuse.

Nothing else for it but to go back on the Grapefruit Diet! Which actually works if you've got the appetitie of an ant and the intelligence of a gnat to see it through. Hubbs and I did it for the fortnight leading up to our nuptials and lost a stone between us although it did absolutely nothing to help our pre-wedding jitters and actually made me feel a trillion times worse what with hunger headaches and my stomach lining eating itself.

I don't know how he's doing it, but Hubbs is still on the GD 12 hours later. And after a day of physically exhausting tasks at work, too. Whereas I merely had the arduous idea of popping into town to pick up my newly lensed glasses, have a bit of a browse then back home to write totally unhindered (as it's half term and MiniMe is off doing work experience - v.keen of her to give up her break, don't you think?). But no sooner had I grabbed my specs off the nice assistant lady, I'd hared back to the car and driven at warp speed back home, fried an egg, sandwiched it between a slice of cheese and ham, stuck it on a slice of toast and devoured it with all the delicacy of Hannibal Lecter after Lent.
I'm sorry but there has to come a time in your life when you just have to say Dieting's Off. No more. Bored now.
I don't like being hungry.
There's also millions of people in the world who are starving through no choice of their own and would give anything to have the luxury of being able to say 'no thanks' to a plate of food.
We should be grateful.
So, if anyone catches me moaning about my spare tyres again, they have permission to slap me round my stupid ungrateful face.

Soooo lovin' "Boy Meets Girl"!

Anyone else watching this telly treat and loving it as much as I am? it doesn't always happen, does it, that a great preview equals a great programme, but ta-da! And (wail!) it ends this week (tonight I believe).
It's just got it all. It's funny, it's sad, it's disquieting at times and the questions of where our society's been going wrong for the past 50 years or so are gloriously screamed out for everyone to agree with. It's just sublime TV viewing and I defy anyone not to fall in love with both leads - actually moreso with Rachael Stirling, the fe/male lead and, of course, Martin Freeman is just brilliant as usual. If you didn't see the whole thing, you HAVE to catch-up or else buy the DVD when it comes out (it HAS to). It's uplifting - and we all need an uplift from time to time, eh?!

Eight Things I Don't Like (can I sub-categorise? Well, I'm gonna!)

1. Bad manners. This includes:
a. Drivers who pull out in front of you as if you're driving an invisible car and then slow to enjoy the scenery.
b. Drivers who don't acknowledge thanks when you've stopped to let them past parked cars and/or out of a junction/wherever. How much does a 'thanks' cost again?
c. Drivers who don't care whose lives they endanger by holding a mobile phone to their ears whilst smoking with the other hand. (Begs the question what the F**k are they steering with?!)
d. Drivers who won't let you cross the road when there's nothing coming the other way simply because it's 8.12am and they know you're on a school run and therefore have no brain cells because you're an airhead mother who should be staying at home and baking muffins for her husband whilst home-tutoring the child who will NEVER get to school as long as it sits waiting in the goddam car for someone to let it out!
e. Drivers who park anywhere they like and escape the wrath of the Traffic Wardens (are they still called that or are they now something like prohibitive vehicle engineers?)
f. Drivers who park skewed over two spaces so that you have to drive another mile to find somewhere else.
g. Drivers who slam their doors into yours when they get back into their car simply because they have an old G-reg Skoda and know you live in fear of your husband thinking you simply cannot take the car out without bringing it home minus a bit more paint.
h. Drivers who escape running red lights/speed limits/other illegal traffic offences.
i. Drivers.
j. Oops... see a bit of a pattern emerging here...!

Eight Things...

Since a whole bunch of blogger pals are doing this, thought I'd have a wee think and pass on my own Eight Things, here's the first two categories:
Eight Things I Like:
1. Writing. And the time in which to do it justice.
2. Being a mother.
3. Being in love.
4. Reading (not the town - although I'm sure it's a lovely place)
5. Tea. Just keep it comin'!
6. A bargain - anything from a charity shop find to the Blue Cross Sale (although I'd never camp out - I like to 'stumble across' my bargains when I'm least expecting them).
7. Getting great ideas, from choice of wallpaper/recipe to the new book.
8. Belonging to an elite group of like-minded people who totally 'get' where I'm at (you know who you are!)

Eight Things I Did Yesterday:
1. Nagged. (Apparently) (see 3)
2. Whinged. (Allegedly) (see 4)
3. Did the Sainsbury's run (with hubby so the bill was doubled - just like taking a child!)
4. Backed up everything on the 'puter cos we're getting a new tower. (Am total technophobe therefore took hours longer than it realistically should have and I'm still sure I've lost major components of my life through my ineptitude).
5. Caught up on X-Factor and Eurovision Song contest (sad, I know) as we were at the cinema watching 'Angels & Demons' the night before (should have just stayed home in hindsight).
6. Made a toad in the hole (Sunday lunches just ain't what they used to be!)
7. Made packed lunches for hubby and Mini-me for today.
8. Hoovered upstairs (whole house at a time? I am NOT Anthea Turner)

More eight things coming when I can't think of anything else to post!

It wasn't supposed to happen like this!

From an early age all I thought I had to do in life was hang about looking mysterious, winsome and put-upon until an equally mysterious yet enigmatic masculine form thundered up on his charger and swept me 'away from all this' and onto the lands of Happily ever After.
This simply HAD to happen because that was how it happened in every book I'd read and every film I'd watched - so it had to be true. And if by some fluke I happened to be kidnapped and sold into white slavery or taken to a nunnery by accident then I'd spend my lifetime of servitude in a brown horsehair twin-set looking all pure and innocent until aforementioned Mr Mysterious with his charger still somehow found me. I'd be on his TomTom, after all. Because that was what he'd been conditioned to do. Find me. I'd be his quest.
But nobody told me about the dusting. Or the having to go out to work. And the cleaning, the hoovering (see very first post), the endless cooking and shopping and ... did I mention the dust? Where the hell does it come from? Okay, so Snow White did a bit of 'whistling while she worked' but then she had the good fortune of having every forest creature ever invented at her service (although WHO in their right mind would slip a plate back into the cupboard after having it LICKED clean by a friendly deer? per-lease!).
My point?
Do I have to have one?
I mean, do I?
How the heck am I supposed to realise my dream of getting a(nother) book written when there's always so goddamn much other stuff to get through?
Hmm?

What's the difference between Fishing and Writing?

Well, none, actually. If you're to believe MrR. And I have to admit what he says makes an awful lot of sense.
If you're not in any kind of pre-menstrual huff, that is.
Much like everything else he says making a great deal of sense - which it does - unless... oh, you know the rest.
Okay. So 'here's the Math':

1. In fishing you need a jolly decent hook.
Ditto Writing. Esp. at the end of every chapter - otherwise reader will amble off in search of boredeom aleviators usually in the form of a beverage or three - maybe even another book (zoikes).

2. In fishing you need a tasty bait.
For 'bait' I'm reading Fe/male protagonists and some juicy can of worms to spill. And, of course, if the first bait doesn't get a bite, try another one. (see 5).

3. In fishing you need to find the right location.
So long as the room is heated, has a window, has electricity and direct access to a packet of chocolate hob-nobs then I'm in the right place.
Unless by 'right location' he means the setting of the story. Probably. More than likely actually. Of course he does - has to be right. No point writing about Eskimo love in Bahrain unless you have direct knowledge. Which of course... ah soddit. Bedsits in Bognor it is, then.

4. In fishing you need endless patience to succeed.
Too right! How often have you loaded the right hook with the tastiest bait only to have it float about gaining nibbles for about 25thou words, then sadly drift off and end up at the bottom of the pond covered in so many weeds you can't even see it any longer let alone get it back?!Aargh!

5. Just because one gets away doesn't mean there isn't another One out there.
I'm using an Agent metaphor for this one. So how would MrR feel if he watched 39 get away, followed by another 43 with a different bait? Hmm? Actually he'd probably just change pools and re-think his options. He's far too sensible and logical for my warped, over-emotional way of thinking!

6. It's all about timing it just right.
Hmm.

7. Success is a dozen failures.
That's 'Everything' related - fishing and writing included. And I love this MrR saying. It get's me right *there* every time. And like my lovely friend Claire told me once: 'it only takes one yes'
(for 'yes' read 'catch')

8. You can do both in the rain (I just made that one up)

You know you're feeling better when...

1. You can manage to stand in the shower and wash your hair without every nerve ending screaming in agony.

2. You take your daughter to school wearing more than joggers pulled over pyjamas with slippers and sunglasses accessories.

3. The wailing of the cat for more Whiskas manages to sound shriller than the banging at your eardrums for more paracetamol.

4. You notice a definite dust build-up on surfaces that three days ago you couldn't even focus on let alone care that you possessed in the first place.

5. The film you just watched made you wince, moan and snarl and not because of it's brilliance but for the sheer fact that it was allowed to be made at all - just because you put about ten Women together who are stupidly famous and who have all had superb parts in the past does NOT mean that combined they create a good film - utter, utter cringeworthy, cliche-ridden drivel with plastic hairdo's and botox at it's best... Gah!

6. You look at the clock and think "Ah... if I'd been at work I'd have been getting ready to leave right now" and actually feel a little wistful.

7. You switch your computer on after five days of not being able to flick on the kettle without a whimper of pain and realise that you HAVE been missed. Oh, and that life does go on without you, but hey...

8. The box of After Eights looks strangely tempting sitting next to the sachets of Beechams Extra and you think your taste buds might not have died after all.

9. You make a silent vow to stop picking the scabs that have formed around your nose from so much blowing and decide to try a bit of lipstick for the school run this afternoon. After all, you don't want to scare your daughter's friends. Again.

10. You discover, almost joyously, there is even humour to be found in having a bout of the 'flu.

Have you heard the one about.... Swine Fever?

We had jokes about Bird Flu.
We had jokes about Mad Cow Disease.
We even had (in hindsight, extremely BAD taste) jokes about AIDS.
So why not jokes about the latest 'fashionable' pox to hit our shores causing pandemic-pandemonia?
Actually the only one I heard was from a radio two broadcaster who quipped that she wasn't unduly bothered because it only affected men. Ha! Swines - that'll teach 'em!
But the biggest laugh we've had in our house recently came following last night's BBC 'news coverage' of the latest British person to have contracted this disease (is it a disease? Is flu a proper disease?). Anyway - this guy had caught it - I believe from someone he came in contact with on a flight from Mexico or something - don't quote me on this - my memory is sketchy at the best of times.
The report seemed to be highlighting the fact that this guy - who is now 'quarantined' in his flat until further analysis and recovery can be made - passed his germs onto one of his mates who also now has the disease. The lady reporter was speaking to Quarantine Guy on her mobile from the relative security of her car outside his flat and asked him how he felt about being diagnosed with Swine Fever. His reply?
"I was a bit disappointed to be honest".
Why? Had he expected something a little more serious? TB perhaps? The Bubonic Plague?
He was then asked how his friend had felt about contracting the disease from him and he replied:
"He was a bit cross with me."
Right.
So - a threat to our National Safety? A possibility this will reach epidemic proportions? The fact that there have so far been 13 cases in the UK does not a crisis make, surely? And if Quarantine Guy is taking it all so gamely with the damning threat of imminent death hanging over his head then lets make him our Swine Fever Ambassador - we could all take a leaf out of his book when we've been told we might bump into the Grim Reaper.
Swine Fever? To me, this looks more like a strain of flu that nobody had records of just yet although your common or garden Amoxycillin will probably cure it if caught early enough.
Oh - and it IS a helluva way to take our minds off the boring old Credit Crunch, isn't it?