Dreary Day Two

This is is. The tester day. Normally by night-time this day I get the munchies super hardcore. And here it is, 10:18pm and all I want to do is stuff my face.

Hrrng.

I went for a run again today. I did the one loop (1 mile) and then tested out the park laps. I did 4 laps (had to stop to walk a little, as some of the paths are like 90 degree hills) and then finished with one last 1 mile loop. My lungs were burning and I was wheezing, but I was sweaty and felt like I had done something positive. I had a quick shower, and then walked to the house to check on it. Then I thought I would walk to the cinema and saw that my pedometer already read three something, so thought the extra steps wouldn't hurt. I packed a healthy snack (banana chips au naturel and a fruity water) and headed out. By the time I got there the pedom only said about 4000. I think it got jamed/messed up somehow or wasn't registering my steps properly. Perhaps because I was wearing my cooshy wellies, they make my footsteps too squishy to register the jolt of each step. Who knows. So I watched The Way Back (should be entitled The Way to Fall Asleep) and walked home at nearly 9pm. Apparently the movie was like 3 hours long. Ugh. I didn't cheat or eat junk, and drank nearly a litre of water while I sat there. (Which resulted in my near-busting towards the end of the neeevvveerrr-ending movie).

So yes. Ate well today, exercised and walked for a negative calorie balance of about 640. Depending on pedometer, which wasn't very accurate. Meh, voila. Not much more to report. Tomorrow the embassy opens again after Crimbo holidays (for 3 days before closing AGAIN for like 2 weeks for New Years, must be a nice job) and I am crossing every part of my body that can cross that we'll hear some news. It has been over a month now and I'm getting really squirelly. I miss having someone to talk to, having someone to walk with, and just miss having Y around. Please embassy, find it in your non-existent little hearts to approve before New Years...

I'm going to go to bed now so tomorrow comes sooner. I'm also hella snacky so need to avoid the kitchen. I could seriously EFF up some ryvita, butter, and honey. Sweet and wholegrainy...NO! I SHALL NOT!

Bed....

Lungs...Melting...

Well jesusmotherchristmas, that was quite a run. I mapped out a route around the 'hood on google and went for it. It was mostly uphill, against the FREEZING, BITTER wind, and painful. Lungs were burning, eyes were watering, nose was frozen. Ugh. But I did it! I stopped to walk twice (at the top of two hills) and all in all did about 30 minutes of jogging. Not bad for the first time in a month, outside, in -3 weather. Now I just have to do it every day.

Cough.

One fun thing, I walked through a "park" near the flat (glorified patch of grass and playground) and they have an OutDoor Gym. Basically, it's like a playground for old people, with exercise bikes, cross trainers, weight machines- all using your own weight as counter resistance. Pretty cool! They were covered in snow and ice today so I didn't dare sit on them, but maybe something to try once it warms up. I was also scouting the park for running laps, as I hate running on pavements and past people/traffic so maybe tomorrow's run I will do laps around it and see how it goes. It's tiny, you could throw a stick one end to the other (well, if you were good at stick throwing) but it's better than running on the hard pavement and dodging people stepping out of shops without looking. We'll see.

Tonight finds me trying to avoid snacking, eat a good dinner, watch a little show, and then SLEEP. I think I am eating so much because I am staying awake pointlessly, and get bored/lonely. Solution? Bed at 9 if I have to.

Right, time to plan some dinner.

Bah!

Oh Deary Me. Tsk.

Christmas Eve Pizza Gorge-a-Thon

Burp.

Just ordered my Christmas eve pizza. Classy, right? Now feel sick and greasy fingers are leaving shiny marks on my keyboard. Yesssss.

Today was a train wreck. Last night I woke up late and scoffed curry and turkey slices and peanut butter and fruit. Meh. Felt sick, fell asleep. Then my friend from Uni called me early and we agreed to meet up. Went to a cafe, ate huge eggs benedict, chugged coffee, and went to Camden market. I scored the MOST fantastic 70's dress, in teal, from Rokit, the famous vintage store for 6 quid, marked down from 30! It's so cute. A little clingy, but nothing some spanx can't conquer. Then we walked on and had a crepe each. Then we walked back (yes, I did nearly 10k) and scoffed bickies with more coffee and tea. Ugh. Feel so sick, bloated, and sluggish. What is wrong with me?

Anyway I'm comme çi comme ça today. It doesn't feel like Christmas, my baby is away from me, and I am alone. Sort of depressing, but lots of people have it so much worse, so I'll not complain. I'm warm and full, which is more than many can say.

That said, I will now complain about my hair. As you recall, I went to this French murdered who FRIED it. Then I went to another salon in London who tried to fix it, but told me quite honestly that my hair was toast. Literally, they said another 5 years of growing to get the same healthy length again. Which makes me sad. Because I have been growing it for 3 years and it ONLY JUST passes my shoulders. My hair grows sloooow. Anyway, I've been looking at the state of my hair, and despite putting a treatment in it nearly daily, slapping a showercap and towel on, and then rinsing it hours later, as well as applying every tonic and repair known to man, it still breaks like mad, looks "frizzy" (splitting), and comes out in clumps when I brush it or touch it. Or breathe on it. So I have come to the conclusion I may have to hack it all off, call it a day, and start from new. I have found a haircut I like, and want to know what everyone thinks. Would it suit me? Does it suit a chubbier person, or is short short hair best left to pixies? At 6'2 would it look rediculous? Would l look like a boy? Michelle Williams (my model) has a very feminine and cute face...maybe I am too severe for this?

Anyway here is the hair:











Plus imagine how easy it would be to style...god lovely. So yes. I'm on the fence. I just don't know. Although it is "long" now, I seldom style it (pulling it into a ponytail even makes it feel like it will rip out now) and curling it, which I often did when it was healthy is no longer an option. Any heat- snap. Any tension- snap. Also when I pull it into a poinytail the sheer volume of hair is shocking compared to how it used to be. It's about the thickness of a small gherkin, whereas before it was a decently thick-ish ponytail. Ugh.

Right, so enough going on about the hair. I can't help but be a little obsessed. I have nobody really to talk to about these things, and I'm sure ladies will agree that our hair is our "crown", and it's very important and very much a factor in how feminine, attractive, desirable we feel. Think how you feel when your hair just looks bad for a day. It flucks up your whole vibe for the day. Anyway yes. Opinions, please. Could I rock it?

Tomorrow is Christmas Day. Merry Crimbs to everyone and good luck with your eating. I, for one, have failed miserably. Oh well...tomorrow is another day.

Happy Holidays!

More Damp...from the CEILING!

So I was sitting at the table, researching exterior doors when it happened. Plink. Plink plink. Plink.

PLINKPLINKPLINKPLINK GUSHHHHHHHHH!

Water came POURING through the ceiling light socket! Seem ole' creepo upstairs had a faulty washing machine or something. So I went up there and he was like all casual about it, "Oh, really? Hm. Well I've called the plumber." and then shut the door.

Er. Ok. So I sat with a huge pot under my new water feature and waited for the landlord to come by and look. He came, he said no problem, and he left.

SO basically, I didn't get to do my 10000 steps today, merely 3000. HOWEVER, it is kismet, because the plink plinks were falling literally RIGHT on my laptop. Had I gone out for the walk I was putting off and putting off, I would have come home to a completely soaked Mac, and a mess, and all my paperwork drenched. Close call.

That said, I tried to be good today, and I was up until I went out to the nature store to get some trail mix (I am surrrriously becoming an addict...I go out JUST to get a little bag of it now) and ended up seeing a vegan curry and a spinach torte slice in the mark-down fresh food section for at the end of the night.

Eyebrow raise.

So I go them both, and came home and tucked into the spinach torte. Oh. My. God. So delicious. So vegan, so healthy. Probably so like 500 calories, too, but I don't care. It was amazing. Then I had to taste the curry and JESUS MOTHER CHRISTMAS it took every ounce of willpower to re-close the lid and put it in the fridge for tomorrow. It's that good. God I am salivating thinking about it now.

Anyway then I busied myself doing laundry and tidying, as a dear dear friend (and ex-roommate in Uni) is here in the Big Smoke with her new BF visiting his parents for Christmas and will be stopping by tomorrow! Hurrah! The last time I saw her was at our wedding...a year and a half ago. Doh! So I was busy, and good. Then I started...I tore into a bag of dried pears. I know, I know, it's fruit. It's not a chocolate cake. But MAN I couldn't stop. 2 days of 1200 calories and I'm already like a junkie with a bag of coke placed before them for the sniffin'.

Sigh. So I went over a bit today, about 500 to be true, so didn't exactly LOSE any calories, but I broke even, so no major trag.

Now it's off to bed and to avoid the fridge. That curry is screaming my name, I'm totally not kidding.

Also, fun tidbit, yesterday during my perambulations on the high street, I saw Julian Barratt, looking all moody and annoyed. Apparently he lives around here:



For those of you who are perhaps wondering who this fellow is, he is one half of the Mighty Boosh, a British comedy duo/show/live act/band, and a pretty funny actor. He was in one of my fave shows ever, Nathan Barley, and to walk past him (inches! away!) was pretty awesome. I was all excited like a little kid. I can't be sure, but I think he might have given my red boots a dirty look. But that's ok! Because he hates everything and everything annoys him! He was rushing into the tube station. I am such a celeb spotter.

So far my scores:

LONDON CELEB-SPOT-A-THON

1) Davina McCall near Picadilly with a mic shoved in her annoying face and a camera crew.

2) Bill Nighy coming out of some grotty cafe in Soho.

3) Alan Carr in Hyde Park, walking his dogs.

4) Julian Barratt, as above.

And for bonus points, Y saw Rihanna in Paris the other day. He said she is a midget and he wanted to punch her in the face because SHE'S THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WOOOOOORRRLD. ONLY GIRL IN THE WORRRRRLLLLD. ONLY GIRL IN THE WOORRRRLLLLD and for the reason alone that that song is the most annoying song playing currently. (Just reading that sentence back was a little stumbly. I'm sure I could grammatically make that a lot easier to read, but can't be buggered.)

So yes. Not doing bad on the Starfucker front here. Sigh. I wish my other half was here. I'm starting to go a little nuts.

Hrrrng.

Wet and Damp.

Gross weather! Not snowy, yet not completely melted, yet dirty and dog pooey. I hate when the snow peters off like this. It's so ugly.

That said, today I took Gemima and Clementine (my boots' names) out for their premiere walk and I have to say get some Hunter wellies if you don't have any. The grip? Unbeatable. The warmth? Surprisingly snug. The looks of appreciation from little old nanas wearing the same? Smug recognition that we are in the club. Any club that I can be in with nanas sounds awesome to me.

That said, we took a long walk around our 'hood (I really am feeling like I know it now) in this invidious weather and stumbled across a pet store which I had read online had kittens in it. So I went inside. No kittens, just a crusty old parrot perched on a shit-encrusted wooden dowel balanced across a huge tupperware bin. Ugh. Exit postehaste and continue walking. I ended up in the natural foods store, surrounded by frizzy-haired older women fingering the mixed nuts pick-a-mix and smelling faintly of patchouli. I got some alfalfa-broccoli sprouts (lovely on salad!) and a little sack of trail mix and carried on. All in all I have done my 10k steps, and have eaten well. I will make a huge salad for dinner, with above mentioned sprouts, and then will have my daily treat- a Tunnocks Tea Cake.

What's a teacake, you ask?
Well...only heaven in a foil wrapper made in Scotland:



One of them has 106 calories, so as long as you do your walking and balance the cals, you can easily indulge. Yes, that is mallow on a shortbread base, smothered in milk choc. Commence dribbling.

Oh, but Sock, weren't you meant to go to Curves and see how it is?

...

I will never step foot in that place. Wedged between a pikey internet call centre and a greasy-looking take-away pizza joint is this "Curves". It looks like a rehab center for recovering meth addicts, with dirty, tinted windows, and a piece of paper cello-taped in the door with the opening times. Which are bizarre. 8-12 and then 5-9. Er...lame. And scary. And not somewhere I am going to pay monthly to go. I'd rather spend the same and get AWESOME 6-swimming pool, sauna, 75 workout areas LA Fitness OVERLOAD than have to skeeve my way into that place, ever. Even if it does mean being made fun of by the perky ponytail-through-the-hole-in-the-back-of-the-hat females and HydroxyCut freak men. But, that will have to wait till Y gets back. I think we'd better go together. Strength in numbers, etc. And also, more fun.

So for now, calorie watching, and walking. Tomorrow I have to go to the mail centre to pick up a parcel I missed from the postman today. The roads seem clear so maybe Claude and I will go for a little tootle down there. What's the parcel? Well, if you have to know, it's SPANX, ok? Yeah, I said it. I need some help in the lovehandle area.

You meanies.

Eating Woes

BARGHHHH.

Still unable to stop stuffing my face! I've written in HUGE letters on a paper which I have stuck to the cupboard:

STOP MINDLESS EATING

MOVE MORE

DO SOMETHING!

Tomorrow I am going to walk up to the local branch of Curves and check it out. Apparently it's circuit workout stuff, that is supposed to be good for you. It's better than nothing until it's clear enough to go running. Although I'm totally shy about going here without Y. I've never run around here and I feel better going with someone else. Plus I hate walking through town in my spandexies, and am too insecure to run up the main road to the Heath. So, Curves, if it doesn't look like a Pikesville, will have to do. If it does look scary, I will bite the bullet and pop in LA Fitness, just down the road. Which intimidates me beyond belief. Every time I have walked anywhere near there all I have seen are hugely BUFF and FIT men and super-slim and perky tiny women coming in and out, not one chubbster or "work in progress" in sight. Ehhgh. I'll have to get over this fear though, and do it. Or I'm going to right back up to 250 again. It was easy enough to gain ten in 2 months, so how hard to do another 50? Exactly. This MUST be controlled.

Should both gyms be gross, I'm going to FORCE MYSELF to walk at least 10k steps and not go over 1200 cals a day. I will go drastic. And, to make myself more likely to walk out in the mush and slush, I treated myself to a bit of brightness...nameley THESE:



Yeah, ignore the FAT camel knees and thighs, as well as the worrying muffin-top lovehandles that have snuck back since I've been here in the UK (over a month already!). The point is: THE BOOTS! THE RED, YUMMY BOOTS!

I dare mother nature to throw some rain at me in these bad boys.

They are a small spark in a dark point. Still no visa news. Still no anything. Christmas alone, England alone, house alone...sucky. I keep hoping the embassy will show a shred of decency and approve the application on Christmas Eve and he will get the last train here and we'll be reunited and it will be like a cute movie (of course I will wear the red boots), but I know, and now almost feel, in my heart of hearts it won't be before January. Which...is unbearable to think of in the mood I am in now. So we won't. We will go and look at the boots again, and sniff their comforting rubber smell that reminds me of being little.


Sigh..

Kooky.

Sigh. So I am so slacking on the blogging front, and as a result am not being very accountable for my AWFUL eating these past weeks. Let's do a sum-up:

Weight

Last time I checked, shockingly high. I don't dare even report it. I tried to justify myself by saying, hey, it's Christmas, everyone gains this time of year, but that is utter bullshite. There is no reason why I should be gaining. I am completely alone, not going to festive parties, and not eating a big Crimbo dinner. No excuse. So yes. Weight is way up, mood is way down.

Exercise

Non-existent. I walked about 13000 steps the other day, all around Camden market (which was awesome, yet filled with FOOD smells and I was dying to snarf the cashew Chinese EVERYTHING I could see and smell all around me) and home, and then, because I bought a SWEET little bike to tootle around on, rode home. I ended up getting lost somewhere near Gospel Oak, but found my way home. This is the bike, I have named him Claude (make sure you pronounce it very FRANCH, a la "CLEW-D"):



Except of course he is the snazziest shade of turquoise. So is cooler. He is seriously tiny, and I'm sure I look a right sight on him, being so big. But it's awesome, I tootle around and check the post and hit the shops on him. This morning I was stuck in a BLIZZARD with him, but Claude handled it well and we made it down the HILL OF SLIPPERY DEATH in one piece. Nice work, chum. Yes, I am talking to my bike. It's getting that bad here.

Y and I

Well, he is STILL in Paris trapped, waiting for the effing paperwork. This means that if it isn't done by next week, we are spending Christmas apart, which is depressing. I'll be in this cold, empty flat alone, and he will be in that cold, empty flat alone. So...depressing. I miss him terribly and it's frightening how much you realise you need someone when they are TRAPPED and you can't get to them. He can't even travel over to mum and dad's for some Crimbo warmth because the embassy has his passport hostage. Sadness.

Food

Eating everything under the sun from depression (see above).

House

Beginning work on exterior wall on Tuesday, then hopefully can get the damp proof work going inside and then the real work and FINALLY get it all going so we can live in there...like...February? Yeah. I know. Nearly a year after we found it. It makes me want to vom, too.

So that;s it, in a nutshell. I haven't run in 3 weeks. It's cold and lonely in London and I'm not sure when I will next see my husband. Not really in a motivated mood at the moment, and could quite easily fall into a carrot cake and eat the whole thing. I so far have managed to avoid buying one, but time will tell how strong my resolve is...

December Already?

Where has the time gone? Bizarre!

It's cold here, damn cold. Which means instead of going running, I snuggle under the covers and go back to sleep.

It also means I am in the house a lot, and bored. Which means mindless snacking. A lot. As of today I am 197, and I am trying in the next 2 weeks to get back to at LEAST 194 by diet alone, and walking. I've been dreadful this whole time Y has been gone, and I'm not proud of it at all. Hopefully this week we will hear about his application and he can come home. I got an email from the foreign office yesterday asking for my phone number and employment details, so hopefully they are processing his pack and will call me as the final step to confirm, before they stamp it and he can come back. This is my wishful thinking. Please don't let it be that there is a problem. Hrrrrng.

Anyway yes. It's WeightWatchers meals, light snacks, and lots of water on the plan for today, as well as kitchen planning online and trying to keep busy. Thankfully on Friday we move into a smaller flat which is 2 streets away from the new house, so we can work on it and be available more easily than we can now, since we're waaaay in West London and the house is in the North. Dumb. It takes over an hour on the tube to get there from here, which is annoying when the builders want to be in there at 9 and 10 am. Poor me, having to wake up EARLY. Shudder! 

Tomorrow I have the damp inspector coming, which should be exciting. I went into the downstairs loo the other day, armed with a huge screwdriver and prised the tiles off the wall, and could smell the damp, so I'm sure that wall needs some sort of treatment as well. Sigh...it has to be done though, and once it is, we can start the fun part of making the house look better. Looks like Christmas will be in a rented one-room flat. Hopefully Y will at least be home by then! If not...gah, depressing.

My Christmas Wishes are thus:

1) Y settlement sorted.
2) House started
3) Lose 10 pounds


To be honest, if number one comes true soon, I will be a happy bunny. The house isn't going anywhere, and annoying as it is that it is just sitting there, it isn't in immediate danger of falling over or anything. The ten pounds bit...well, that's been a wish for the past 2 years, so who knows.

Ok, off for some brekkies.

Tarah!

Guh.

Scales at 198, bank account at zero.

London has drained us already. With the house, new locks, builders, insurance and everything adding up we are definitely going to be living on ramen for a few years. Y is in Paris waiting for his paperwork to go through. I am here alone, trying to manage everything else, and traipsing through the snow and biting wind to get to our freezing cold house that is empty and just sitting there. The builders gave us a quote today which is so ridiculous it doesn't bear mentioning. Let's just say you could buy several Ferraris with the amount they quoted to renovate a TINY cottage. Joke, seriously.

Weight-wise, a joke. Eating nothing but junk from stress (inhaled a whole Soreen loaf last night while watching Coach Trip online, god help me) and not running because it's too cold and too far to get to the park, and the pavements here scare me with their uneven death edges. Excuses, yes, but I just don't have the energy. I'm lonely, I miss my husband, I'm in this freezing broken ass heater house and I can't be bothered to go out in the cold to do anything, apart from check on the house every few days and get back to the "warm" as soon after as I can. I think I'm depressed. This is supposed to be an exciting time for us, our first HOUSE together, and we're apart, freezing, and facing astronomical building costs to get the house barely livable. It turns out the whole roof is fucked, there is leakage, the boiler needs replacing, the fireplaces are too wonky to use (there goes our dream of sitting around the cosy fire) the floors are uneven, the ceiling is bowing...fucking hell. I can't even think about it all, it makes my head swim.

Anyway yes. Not updating much here, since here it is in a nutshell: Not exercising, eating too much. Voila. My life.

Maybe I need to get a lottery ticket...