I was struggling with a subject to form my latest rant about, let's see weapons of mass destruction, gun crime, religion, climate change, the Beckhams…all pretty boring and overdone. Then I thought why not write about what is currently, and 99% of my awake (and most probably my asleep) life on my mind…and that is food. I bet you all thought I was going to say sex then! Well believe it or not even this little self confessed nympho would prefer a curry to a shag the majority of the time!
I love food. I really love it. Nothing makes me happier. My whole life is governed by when my next meal is. I also genuinely believe, other than my father, I can eat more than anyone I have met, and people who know me reading this saying “but she doesn’t eat that much?”, you have seen me stop myself eating. I can always always eat more, even if I feel full up, I can eat more. Now this was all well and good as a skinny little teenager but as my 25th birthday looms round the corner I have to face facts that I have (though it pains me to say it) become woman and things don’t sit like they used to. I am getting lumps and bumps where they never were before and sods law says it is my favourite pass time of eating that is doing this to me. I never have been, never will be and never want to be a size zero. Why anyone would is beyond me and the whole debate about young girls looking at models in magazines and becoming anorexic etc does my crust in. If someone looks at what is essentially a skeleton wrapped in skin and longs to look like it then let the idiot starve to death. You may think this is a bit controversial but it is my opinion and it works on the other side of the scale as well. Take for example the whole McDonalds “super size me” issue. McDonalds is bad for you, everyone knows it is bad for you. Normal people once in a while indulge in a McMeal, enjoy every second of it then feel shit and guilty afterwards. If somebody sees in McDonalds a breakfast menu, a lunch menu, a dinner menu and the possibility of supersizing all of these and thinks “oooh what a great idea, I know I’ll eat super sized McDs three times a day everyday” then please let the dumb fucks do it. Let them get fucking fat and die of heart failure before they have a chance to procreate and create more dumb people. People this is Darwin before our very eyes, survival of the fittest. We need to stop bringing awareness to these fat fucks and “stick your fingers down your throat” princesses and let them do it, die out and the world will be a cleverer and easier place to live in. It is not the adverts that warp the people’s minds, the minds are already warped and these are minds that must be destroyed. I diverge. I am not a size zero. I am a size 10 when I try, a size 12 when I don’t and at one stage of my life a size 14 (but we don’t talk about this time). Even if I wanted to be a size zero I couldn’t because I was born in to a size 10/12 frame and not matter how much weight I lose I won’t get any smaller than this, I’ll just look boney. So it is not my frame that upsets me or is the issue here, it is what is wrapped around it, and this is what determines whether I am a 10 or 12, whether I feel good or not and whether I want to take my clothes off or not. I’m talking about excess flab and it is the bain of my existence. My one true love, food, sits on my hips, belly, thighs, arms etc and ironically makes me miserable. So much so that I can no longer get pleasure out of eating, as I feel guilty doing it.
It seems everybody in the world has their own opinion about weight loss and the best/correct way to do it and I just don’t know who to listen to anymore. Let us start with dieting. There are so many diets now I can’t keep up and each one has its own difficult, dangerous or just plain ridiculous characteristic. I swear I have been told in one way or another that every single food group is actually bad for me. I even worked behind a bar with a guy who once told me lettuce was fattening! Drop carbs, drop protein, fruit only, veg only, no dairy, everything in moderation, special fucking K. I can’t deal with it. Once I think I’ve got it clear in my head what I should be eating to guarantee a bit of weight loss and a healthy lifestyle, somebody else contradicts it. I don’t really ever eat junk food or sweets, chocolate, crisps etc but I now believe potatoes, bread, rice, pasta and anything carb based to be satans produce and being a vegetarian this makes meal time a little limited believe me. Especially as I obviously have to cut out cheese, anything in a jar and anything made by Linda McCartney. (They can try and take hummus from me but they never will, I’m not listening you cunts). So carrots anybody? But not boiled for too long as even they will lose their goodness if you cook them too much, apparently. So we are left with raw veg, otherwise known as a salad. Now hands up who actually, honestly, ever feels satisfied after eating a salad. Admittedly with summer coming in I crave less of the heavy foods (swapping McCoys for quavers – they’re floaty light) and a salad can make the transition from accompanying lasagne and garlic bread to a meal in its own right. But still then there is the dilema, should you be allowed croutons? They are after all fried bread? And don’t even start me on salad dressing! The other day I bought a “virtually fat free” thousand island dressing and feeling very chuffed with myself chucking copious amounts of it over essentially lettuce and cucumber my friend comes out with “yeah but it’ll be full of sugar which turns to fat if you don’t burn it off”. FUCK OFF. SERIOUSLY! Am I not allowed anything anymore???!
So that last comment brings me on to the next subject in the “looking after yourself” world we now life in. Exercise. The word makes me shudder. I hate it. I detest it. I know people that love it, crave it, can’t wait to get down that old gym and pump some iron. The only conclusion I can draw is that they are clinically insane and have convinced themselves they enjoy something just because they have been told it is good for you, much like colonic irrigation or something equally horrific. But I can’t argue with the fact it is good for you (in small doses mind). And after years of avoiding it I have succumbed and got myself a gym membership. I have actually had this since August but have only in the last three months actually made use of it. So I’m now in my 3rd month of gymming three times a week. This may seem like nothing to you but for me this is a huge achievement. To not only be exercising but to keep up a routine for as long as I have is a big deal. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays you will find me sweating my little heart out in my horrendously overpriced (but close to my house which makes up for it) leisure complex. (Just to note I did miss good Friday being massively hungover, but in the spirit of things, I attempted a run down the river which I admit now was probably because I was still drunk and a very bad idea indeed).
So you’d think that me going to the gym and pushing myself to the point that I sweat more than I ever knew I could three times a week would be enough to satisfy people. You think wrong. It seems that, as with food, everybody has your own opinion of what “type” of exercise I should be doing. Weightloss, toning, abs, biceps, triceps, gluteal, aerobic, blah blah bollocks bollocks. You get asked “what do you want to achieve?” I want to look good. Full stop. I want to put on a swim suit and look like Carmen Electra (who is not a size zero before you all start calling me a hypocrite). I want a flat tummy, a tight arse and thighs and I want to be able to wave without the bottom of my arm having a 2 second lag behind the top of my arm. And most importantly I want to get this with as little work as possible. So what do I like doing exercise wise? Nothing really. I guess you can count dancing as exercise and I fucking love dancing, only problem is for every calorie burnt dancing I consume 100 in beer, generally followed by chips cheese and mayo from kebab kid on the way home so I can’t really count dancing as exercise as such. So best start with what I hate least and that would be running and swimmming. I’m actually not too bad at running, which from my personal surveys seems to be what everyone hates most. But now I hear “well yes you are burning fat and calories but its not the most efficient way of doing this and you don’t tone anything doing it” or “you’ll only get large calves”…..and swimming I find very easy and relaxing but then I get “oooh you don’t want to be doing swimming a lot, it works all the wrong muscles and you’ll end up with a funny body shape”. So what should I do? The other day at the gym the little Italian who is usually on reception was actually doing a work out and seeing as we tend to flirt outrageously anyway it was inevitable that he was to become my personal trainer for the day. So he asked the required “what do you want to achieve” (add your own Italian accent in here). I gave the usual, legs, bums, tums response and before long he had me on my back on the floor (keep it clean here guys), holding on to 2 handles lifting my legs up and down without letting them touch the floor. This is fucking difficult and to top it off every time I lifted them up he would literally shove them with all his strength downwards, the whole time screaming “uno, due, tre” etc. Firstly this was traumatic because, as a protest against men and all things to with sex, I have not shaved my legs since I was dumped in the beginning of January this year (that’s 4, yes count them 4 months). Hence this rare physical contact with a male proved highly uncomfortable for me and most likely him as well. But this aside, fuck me, that was so fucking difficult and I’m not joking, I was crippled for the best of a week. If this is what it takes to get a perfect figure then I’ll keep my (slightly too big but in hopefully an endearing kind of way) belly thank you very much.
So after this mass rant I’m left nowhere really. I like food and detest exercising which leaves me the choice of being fat or miserable. Seriously though it does get me down that I will never again just be able to just let myself eat what I want again without that little fucking nagging in my head saying “bikini weather is just round the corner, who is ever going to find you attractive if you do have that extra big portion….”
I notice now I said “who” is going to find me attractive and it makes me wonder why it is I do it? Why do I want the slender figure which will basically require a lifetime of celery and cross training. Is it to attract the opposite sex, or is it for myself. I believe a combination of these. If I look better, and feel healthier, I’ll give off a more confident attractive vibe, thus attract more people, meet somebody, get a ring on my finger and get them dependent on me so no they will never leave me. Then once I have them trapped, start eating more stop exercising get fat and happy! Ha ha Psycho! No I wouldn’t do that, I hope!
But what I can conclude from all this is that you really shouldn’t listen to people. Everyone who has their opinions of what muscles you should be working or what food groups you should drop etc are most likely talking utter bullshit. For example, someone telling me running won’t help me, probably can’t run for more than 5 mins themselves so if they convince themselves running doesn’t help then they don’t need to worry about the fact they can’t do it. Once again, my high opinion of the general public shines through, but there is some truth in that. Who wants their best mate to be thinner than them? That is why when we are eating dominos, chocolate and drinking beer we convince them to do it with us. If I’m getting fat you fucking are as well! It makes us feel better about our vices – smoking and drinking is another classic for that. I pretty much gave up alcohol for the most of January- March and so many friends would try and convince me to drink with them because if I’m drinking it makes it ok for them to.
Well I’m lucky in that my new year dieting was kick started this year by getting horrifically dumped and being so miserable I barely ate for the best of 2 weeks (get those violins out) but I wouldn’t recommend this. In fact I wouldn’t recommend anything. Each to their own I say. Whatever works for you. As for me, I’ll keep you posted but I think aside from working to lose weight and get fit and healthy I’m going to work on falling in love with my curves and bumps. Just look at J-Lo’s arse. She must be doing something right the arrogant rich bitch!
I’m going to leave you with the lyrics of a song from a random punk band an ex put on a mix CD for me. I can’t remember their name but these lyrics sum up my feelings perfectly…..
When I was a young boy, knee high to a pig
I had so much life in me, I’d run and skip and hop and jig
I ate almost anything, Everything I could
Cakes and buns and buns and cakes, my word those days they did taste good
Now I’m two foot taller and the world’s a different place
It seems that the last thing anybody wants to do is stuff their face
Mention “What’s for pudding” and you’ll only get a frown
The things that used to pick me up, they only get me down
Read it in the paper, its becoming quite a bore
I’ve thrown it in the dustbin, cos I’ve heard it all before
Do you take sugar in tea, do you get enough vitamin C
Do you count your calories, are you virtually fat free?
Cut down your cholesterol and keep your fibre high
Watch out for preservatives, read the pack before you buy
Keep and eye on sugar and stop eating all those sweets
Well I begin to wonder if there’s anything there left to eat
I’ve heard it on the tv, gone way beyond a joke,
Dietary pointers from a slim-fat bloke
Do you take sugar in tea, do you get enough vitamin C
Do you count your calories, are you virtually fat free?
I don’t wanna cause a hoo ha ha, but don’t you think its gone a little too far
When you give a man the third degree, just because he has a little bit of sugar in his tea…..
Writing 
