The Meat Retreat

Let me crawl inside your flesh

5 foods I like that I really shouldn't:

• Pork Scratchings. I know, I know, they're disgusting. I don't care. Yum. I do get slightly freaked out by the ones with hair on though. I do have some standards.
• Primula - the shrimp flavoured one. Straight out of the tube. I am vile.
• Cheese balls. Those snacks that leave an orange stain on your fingers/face/bed sheets/life.
• Scotch eggs. For some reason most people seem to despise them. I, on the other hand, would like to crawl inside a giant scotch egg and eat it from the inside out.
• Peperami. The website's called 'The Meat Retreat'. That alone is enough to make me adore them. Especially the spicy one. I like a hot piece of meat.

I'm a terrible person.

Fatima Fatbread

The last 10 days in pictorial form

This week I'm doing an alternative 'feedback' post....


Bottles of wine in the last ten days: About 50
Sausages eaten: Multiple
Number of gym visits: 2 (rubbish but at least I went)
Amount of fattening food eaten: Several tons
Number of times weighed self: 1
Debaucherous nights out had: 2


So I fell off the wagon. Shoot me. I'm obviously annoyed with myself as, when I weighed myself last Monday, I'd lost another 2 pounds and was perilously close to breaking the magical '1 stone lost' barrier. But, for the first time in my life, I'm not going to beat myself up about it and, instead, I'm right back on the detox wagon. Normally I'd give up right about now. I'd figure that I've undone all the good work I did so I might as well eat cheeseburgers with aplomb. But not this time. I haven't undone all the work I did. I've had a minor setback, that's all.

Besides, I enjoyed every mouthful.

The last 10 days has been, quite frankly, bloody marvellous. So, I have no eating/boozing/any other type of regrets. Instead, simply a resolution to carry on with the lifestyle changes I'd started to make. Because they really do work and I'm starting to see some real results. Both in terms of how I look and in terms of confidence.

Onwards and upwards...

What a feeling...

There's nothing to say to that really, is there?



I heart Robert Webb and his inner transexual.

xoxo

The weigh in has been postponed...


This week I have been a bit naughty. Not THAT naughty. But a bit naughty. So I'm going to postpone the moment of horrific truth for a couple of days. That should give me a chance to work it off in the gym or develop an eating disorder, whichever is easier. That'll be the eating disorder then.


I haven't done a post of things that I'm thankful for in ages. So here we go....

• Days off work spent in bed drinking wine, watching comedy that I know the words off by heart to, laughing, eating cheese and biscuits and being so comfortable my body practically became one with the sheets. Ah, marvellous.
• The fact it's payday next week. Always a joy, never a chore. This month however I intend to actually budget (yawn). A necessary evil when you're as skint as me.
• The song above. Love Pnau. Love the crazy cartoon strawberry. Reminds me of a messy night out last year. Muchos fun.
• Getting excited about Glastonbury Festival even though it is months and months away. I love religiously checking the line-up rumours. I do it every year and get myself so worked up I need to have a lie down. Lily Allen! Bon Iver! Bruce Springsteen! Fatboy Slim! Pies! Nachos! Cider! Country! And relax....
• Marks and Spencer's chocolate belgian biscuits. Oh mama, those things are beautiful. One of my work colleagues keeps bringing them in. I curse her and love her in equal measure. Although, to be fair, I only ever have a couple on Friday. Willpower = me.
• The birthday song that Gary Barlow did for Chris Moyles. Actually brought a wee tear to my eye this morning. I was tired though. And hungry. I can't be held responsible for my emotions when I'm hungry.

This evening I'm off to my friend's house to indulge in shepherd's pie, red wine and a lot of Gossip Girl.

Oh Chuck Bass, thou shalt be mine...

Pie in the sky...

pie
n.
1. A baked food composed of a pastry shell filled with fruit, meat, cheese, or other ingredients, and usually covered with a pastry crust.
2. A layer cake having cream, custard, or jelly filling.
3. A whole that can be shared.

I bloody love pie.


Really love it. It's probably one of the reasons I'm on a healthy eating kick. There are just so many wonderful pies in the world, it's a travesty not to consume them.

Here, for your pleasure, are my top 5 pies (in no particular order, I don't play favourites with my pies)...


1) Pork Pie

Oh mama, I love those bad boys. Big ones, small ones, ones with cheese in, ones with egg in (gala pie = triumph). It's just occurred to me that pork pies are a British thing so, if you need a definition, feast your peepers here.


2) Hot Pies

Ah, hot pies. In all their glorious forms. Chicken, lamb, beef, steak and ale. Meat encased in pastry. Served with mushy peas and mashed potato. Life does not get better than that, my friends. I'm truly convinced that the best pies ever are from Pie Minister. If you're ever at a festival and you see the Pie Minister stall, buy one. Buy twelve. They are incredible. Me and C quite literally lived on them at Bloom last year. I'm a big fan of the minty lamb and the chicken of aragon varieties.


3) Potato topped pies

This category includes your fish pie, your shepherds, your cottage. All manner of potato topped loveliness. I find it hard to beat a fish and king prawn pie myself but I recently discovered an Oakham Chicken and Bacon Pie in Marks and Spencer which was fairly gorgeous. Basically potato nestling on top of a hot filling can never be a bad thing. Unless said hot filling contains mushrooms. Then I'm throwing it in the bin.


4) Fruit Pie

I mean, seriously, who isn't salivating at the mere sight of those cherries bulging out of their pastry prison? Nuff said. Give me some custard to splatter on it and I'm literally in heaven.


5) Lemon Meringue Pie

Lemon Meringue gets a category all of it's own. Is it a pie? Is it a cake? Who cares. It's zingy, crunchy, chewy and an utter delight.


6) Mince Pie (Yes, I said Top 5 pies. I lied. Mince pie has to be included)

If I had to choose a favourite sweet pie then this would be it. Mince pies become my life once December begins. Well, maybe not my life. I'm not quite that tragic. I do heart them though. Especially icing topped ones. With courvoisier cream. Oh sweet lord.


So there you go. I've just rambled on about pies for 20 minutes. I blame the fact I can smell my tea cooking. And the fact I'm just a fatty who likes pies.



What's your favourite pie?

Food of love...

Weight loss this week: 1 lbs

Total weight loss: 10 lbs

Number of gym visits: 4 (back on track baby, back on track)

Number of meals out: 0

Units of alcohol: Many

Number of Valentines cards: Zilch


One more pound of fat banished!


I am back on the alcohol wagon but, to be honest, I was expecting to lose a mammoth amount of weight by not drinking booze and I didn't. So I figure a bit o' booze is ok every now and again. Besides, after the week I've had I think I was fully deserving of that two thirds of a bottle of shiraz that I guzzled last night. And I slept like a baby. So the lesson for today kids?

Booze = good.

One good thing has come out of this week though.... I absolutely adore the gym. Yes, tis true. Throw things if you like. But I'm really really enjoying it. It gives me time to think. It helps me get rid of frustration. And that's the second lesson for the day...

Gym = good.

Therefore, gym + booze = double good. I vote for gyms with cocktail bars. Margarita dispensers instead of water fountains. Strawberry daiquiris instead of strawberry smoothies. Who's with me?



Have a fabulous Valentine's Day, everyone....


I heart you. Please let me in.

Thou shalt always....

I stole this idea from the ever lovely miss smidge...

I wrote this a while ago but, despite recent developments, I thought I'd post it anyway. It makes me smile and I think it says a lot about who I am. I make no apologies for my little idiosyncrasies and crazy ways. They're what makes me who I am.


"1. Thou shalt embrace the fact I have a boyish sense of humour. I read b3ta, I laugh at innuendos, I make smutty jokes. I can be a lady when I need to be and my unshockable nature means you get away with a lot. Filth-tastic.

2. Thou shalt not mock my taste in music. Yes, I admit it, I am partial to Girls Aloud, Take That, Lady GaGa and numerous other not so credible 'artistes'. However, I also like anything with a dirty beat and am more than happy to listen to you mix for hours on end. In fact, I enjoy it. Mainly because I get to look at your bum ;)

3. Thou shalt not laugh at me and call me a loser for enjoying celebrity gossip and rubbish magazines like Closer. I know they are lame but they provide me with entertainment while you work far too hard. Besides, I know you secretly read them when I've left. Particularly the 'real life' stories. All men do.

4. Thou shalt let me sleep with the following celebrities if I ever met them: Mark Owen, Christian Bale, Alesha Dixon, Leighton Meester.

5. Thou shalt believe what I say and let bygones be bygones. The past is the past and we can't get to a future without letting go of it. Thou shalt believe and trust in me as I do for you. People change.

6. Thou shalt not complain if I text you more than once a day. I'm a woman. I like to communicate. It's what we do. Similarly, if I occasionally fish for a compliment, indulge me. Not all the time mind, I don't want to get too big for my boots.

7. Thou shalt give me warning when you've had a bad day at work. That way I can either not come round or I can come round armed with cheer up tactics/booze/breasts.

8. Thou shalt listen to me rant about my weight/work/money. I don't want you to find solutions for me. I just want you to listen, make the odd sympathetic noise and give me a hug. Which you actually do rather well most of the time.

9. Thou shalt not laugh at the fact I can talk the hind leg of a donkey. As I said before, I like to communicate. I know I talk too much but I have lots of words in my head and sometimes they spill out. Enjoy it. Be thankful that I feel I can tell you anything.

10. Thou shalt never take me for granted and thou shalt love me for exactly who I am, despite my faults. As I so willingly do for you."



"Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken"

Ain't it the truth...

That is all, folks. That is all.



"I have a friend I've never seen
He hides his head inside a dream"

...

Things I have learnt this evening:

• Dreams do not come true.
• I am not as strong as I like to think I am.
• This really fucking hurts.

Fin.

5

5 things I can't stand that most people seem to love:

• Rugby. I just don't get it. The shorts are too short. The men are too large. There are too many bald heads, cauliflower ears and broken noses.
• Mushrooms. Ugh. Just ugh. Grey, slimy, the texture of a decayed slug.
• The Beatles. I am fully prepared to get shot down for this one. But I don't care. Their music is dull. Paul McCartney makes me feel a bit ill. Don't even get me started on Ringo.
• Little Britain. Again, I just don't get it. Jokes about a 40 year old breastfeeding turn my stomach.
• Chardonnay. Unless it's unoaked. God I'm a ponce.

5 things on my desk at work:

• My plant Rupert in his shiny pink pot.
• Vitamin C effervescent tablets. 1000mg of vitamin c in each one dontchaknow. Initially I was mildly frightened I may die from vitamin c overdose but they've won me over.
• A 2009 pocket legal costs guide. Welcome to my world. It is dull and full of numbers. One of my least favourite things.
• 3 neon colours of post-it note. I am anal and like to colour code things.
• Phone. I've made approximately 1 phone call since I've worked here. And received 2. Still, it makes me feel important.

5 things I did at the weekend:

• Fell off the wagon. I had a long island iced tea on Friday night. Followed swiftly by a bottle of shiraz on Saturday night. Oops. Still, 13 days without booze was a pretty good stint I reckon.
• Ate the best blackberry and apple crumble in the world. With custard. I could quite literally have eaten it using nothing but my hands, my tongue and my gnashing jaws. But social decency got in the way and I used a spoon.
• Discovered that playing scrabble on facebook is ludicrously addictive. I managed to slip 'vagina' and 'fag' in (absolutely no pun intended) to a game last night. Swiftly followed by 'anal' in the subsequent game. Thankfully my opponent was my friend Andy, who is himself a 'fag' and probably enjoys 'anal'. He managed to get 'titi' onto the board and then added an 'f' to my word to create 'fanal'. A Titi is apparantely a small shrub. Whilst a Fanal is a lighthouse. Who knew. Scrabble: broadening the knowledge of childish players the world over.
• Got my first decent night's sleep in over a week. The lingering cold of doom has finally receded and my nasal passages are clear. Hurrah. Double hurrah.
• Went to the gym and ran!! This may not sound like much but I don't do running. I have these things called breasts. I live in fear that I will end up with two black eyes if I run. But I did it anyway. And you know what, it wasn't so bad.

Today I am mostly making lists. That is all.

Live your life

I have come to a conclusion...


Life is too short.


So from now on I am going to dance like noone is watching. I am going to smile, laugh, giggle and cackle. Because life is too short not to laugh.

I am going to be more spontaneous. Indulge my whims and those of others. I want more adventures, less monotony. I am going to treasure every moment of happiness and stop worrying about what may be in the future. I am going to be less serious, more hopeful and just enjoy what I have. Because I'm a lucky lucky lady.

I think the key to happiness is to stop expecting it to look like what you thought it was going to look like. Expectations only lead to disappointment. There are no rules to happiness. There are no rules as to how something should feel.

In short: Enjoy what you have. Stop worrying and live in the moment. Because the future will take care of itself.

This is the only life you get. Live it. Free of fear.

Let yourself fall and you never know what could happen.

Fat bottomed girls*

Photo by dazlambert

Weight loss this week: 3 lbs

Total weight loss: 9 lbs

Number of gym visits: 2 (Ugh)

Number of meals out: 0

Number of meals cooked for me by C: 3 (God bless him)

Units of alcohol: 0 (14 days without booze!)

Number of impure thoughts about wine: Surprisingly few

Praise be! Thank the lord! Hallelujah!

Finally my hard work is starting to pay off. 9lbs of fat confined to the great soap maker in the sky. Actually, that's a fairly horrible thought. I like to think soap made from my fat would have a delicate, feminine fragrance but, in reality, it'd probably smell like bacon and cab sav. Yum.

I wish I wasn't so reliant on the scales to provide me with gratification. I know that I'm eating better, exercising more, drinking less. As proof, my clothes are looser, my skin is clearer, I need less sleep. But, for some reason, I need to see those numbers shrinking in order to feel like this health eating lark is working. C laughs at me and says I shouldn't place so much emphasis on how much I weigh and more on how I feel but I need feedback, goddammit!!

Lovely gratifying feedback.

I'd actually lost 5lbs when I sneakily weighed myself a few days ago so gaining 2lbs back is obviously my punishment for being a cheeky gratification monkey. Plus losing 5lbs in a week is a bit much. I had to check I'd not misplaced one of my boobs when I saw the numbers fall that much. Thankfully the girls were both in their respective places so it was obviously just a fluke.

*I googled the lyrics to 'Fat Bottomed Girls' by Queen. Don't ask me why.

"Hey I was just a skinny lad

Never knew no good from bad

But I knew life before I left my nursery

Left alone with big fat fanny

She was such a naughty nanny

Heap big woman you made a bad boy out of me

Hey hey!"

Um, what?

A day in the life of....

The Persistence of Memory - Salvador Dali

6.55am - Alarm goes off. Bewilderment ensues.

7.04am - Snoozed alarm goes off. More bewilderment. Possibly some swearing.

7.13am - Second snooze is over. Damn.

7.14am - Consider calling in sick.

7.15am - Resign self to fact cannot call in sick. Get out of bed. Definitely some swearing.

7.17am - Having sat on edge of bed for 2 mins, put contact lenses in. Poke self in eye approx. 4 times. Swear some more.

7.20am - Brush teeth. Wash. Other bathroom activities (that sounds rude and/or vile. Sorry)

7.30am - Get dressed, put face on, swear a bit more for good measure. Eyes are normally opening slowly by this point. Avec matchsticks.

7.45am - Eat breakfast. Vow to get McDonalds breakfast on way into work as a reward for getting out of bed. Ha.

8.00am - Leave house in a whirlwind of despair, anger and eroticism (not really, just thought I'd throw that in there).

8.15am - Drive past McDonalds, having talked self out of getting sausage and egg mcmuffin. Congratulate self on being a willpower-filled minx.

8.30am - Arrive at work. Faff. Turn computer on. Make green tea (I just typed teat. Arf)

8.45am - Check twitter/blogs/email/work email/facebook obsessively.

9.00am-12.59pm - Simply a repeat of the above. With a bit of work thrown in for good measure. Bills bills bills.

1.00pm - Lunch! Check subway.com to see what sub of the day is. Check weather. Possibly leave office to venture to subway but only if the sub of the day is one of the 'healthy ones'. Ugh. Hate life a bit. Resent fact cannot have a foot long meatball marinara with double cheese. Moan. Suck it up and decide to have a cup-a-soup and some ryvitas instead. Resent thighs and silently admonish them for being so large.

2.00pm - Resume activities of 8.45am thru 12.59pm.

4.43pm - Put files in cupboard, invariably tripping over on the way there. Berate self for irritating clumsiness.

4.44pm - Turn off computer, resent thighs, put coat on.

4.45pm - Leave work. Bemoan the fact it is dark. Bemoan the fact that KFC is not a satisfactory after work snackette. Stop moaning. Possibly go to gym.

6.30pm (if gym has been attended) - Home. Eat salad. Resent thighs and openly admonish them.

7.00pm - The soaps begin. Ah soaps. Lovely mind numbing soaps.

8.00pm - Bath. Check thighs obsessively in mirror following bath. Swear a bit. Spend rest of evening half-heartedly tidying/texting/preening/willing weight to fall off.

10.30pm - Zzzzzz. Slumber. Dream of smaller thighs/KFC/legal costs.

Ever onwards...

Affairs of the heart are confusing, to say the very least...


In the last month I've experienced some incredible highs but also some big lows. Just as I expected it to be. I never wanted perfection. Perfection, to my mind, just simply doesn't exist. It's a dream. An ideal. Something to be strived for but never actually attained. Perfection gives us something to reach for, safe in the knowledge that we'll never actually get it. Because if we did, then what's the point in going on? If something is perfect then it's as good as it's ever going to get. There is no room for progression. No room for change. No room for more.

This last month has not been easy. Not by any means. But I see progress. I see trust growing. I see happiness. I see the past being left where it belongs... in the past. I see so much good. So much potential.

Yes, there are doubts. But doubts are natural. Doubts mean that the same mistakes won't be made again. Doubts mean that we can learn from what happened before. Doubts mean, more than anything, that we can talk, discuss and, most importantly, listen. Doubts mean that honesty will flourish. As the doubts get laid to rest, gradually, slowly, trust will blossom in their place.

Things are so different this time. Me. Him. Us. There are still gimpses of how life used to be. But, in a way, I think we need those glimmers of past errors to keep us striving for better things. To show us what we don't want and, even more, what we do. I've made a few mistakes. Slipped back into old habits. But it was a temporary blip. I meant what I said right at the start... I'm not going to let us down again. So every time he gets worried I'm just going to keep on reassuring him. Keep on reiterating my promises. Things are going to be just fine this time. I don't know how I know, but I do.




I am ever hopeful. As always.




“If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” — Frederick Douglass

Brr!

I have but one word for you......

Snow!!!

We never get snow here. And I mean never. The two places least likely to get snow in the whole world? Death Valley and my house. Of course snow's never as much fun when you actually have to go to work in it. The roads were treacherous this morning and, to be honest, right now I'd kill to be sitting at home with a hot chocolate, my duvet and a spot o' rubbish daytime television

In other news, I cracked and weighed myself this morning. So much for the only weighing myself once a week thing. but I'm glad I did. The numbers went down. Hurrah, hurrah and thrice hurrah! Obviously the tongue-numbingly hot curry that we had on Friday night kick-started my metabolism and it's now running at a rate faster than 'slug'.

Happy Monday everyone!