Sunday, 24 January 2016

27 Wise, Wise Wisdoms

It's mah burfday in a few days, so am celebrating the fact that I've managed to get through another year without taking an anvil or grand piano to the head by writing my annual "Wise, Wise Wisdoms" post to tell you about the many, many important things that I've learned from birth, all the way up to right this second.

Right this second, I am guiltily stuffing melty (because I'm too impatient to wait for them to set) corn flake cakes into my mouth and swigging beer.  Probably not the actions of someone who is truly wise and all knowing, but you'll have to make do.  Or you could do an Amazon search for deeper musings.  But you'd have to pay for those, and proper books take so much longer to read, so...

Anyway, if you have to go, can you get me another corn flake cake on your way out?  Thanks, pal.

For those of you still here, here we go.

*rolls up chocolate smeared sleeves*

1.  If you have any kind of fitness regime, you can attribute any weight gain to "muscle is heavier than fat."  Even when you're suffering from pizza burps and reaching for the crisps drawer.  Denial is a beautiful thing.

2.  Acquiring a dog is more like having a child than you care to admit (despite your total lack of experience with children).  You have to remember when you fed it last.  Lie ins are no longer a thing, and you spend a surprising amount of time contemplating the consistency of and collecting poop (for the bin.  Not for actual poop collection).

3.  Beloved celebrities die with increasing frequency as you get older and every time someone like Rik Mayall/Robin Williams/Terry Pratchett buggers off to the VIP party in the sky, you will feel a bit of your soul go with them.  You will genuinely start to worry about how you'll manage to hold your shit together the day Jim Carey/David Attenborough/Harper Lee etc snuffs it.  Ugh.

4.  The closer you get to 30, the more shameless you get about your Bridget Jones-esque obsession with pop psychology books. Especially ones which are thinly veiled self help books.

5.  You are and always have secretly been Bridget Jones.  Those books are prophecy and not fiction as you originally believed.

6.  Jeans are the devil.

7.  Leggings are the way.  The ones that aren't see through anyway.  Those leggings are most definitely not the way.  The pants I buy aren't pretty enough for those.

8.  I have come to believe (furiously hope) that one day, active wear will merge with every day wear, so that we get to wear stretchy, luminous clothes all year round and never have to get changed for the gym.  The world will become a comfy, pretty, moisture-whicking place, and everyone will be nicer for it because their trousers are no longer leaving unforgiving seam marks in their flesh.

9.  Getting up at 5am for work isn't the living nightmare I thought it would be.  Being up at that hour grants you a certain smugness at having a more "up and at 'em" attitude than the actual sun.  Stupid, lazy sun.

10.  Twice daily dog walks aren't a chore.  I enjoy being walked more than the dog does.  I think that if these walks were to stop, I might start chewing the furniture.

11.  Despite years of people telling me how good Star Wars is and choosing to ignore them, I was still surprised that I liked them.  A lot.  Especially the old, old ones.  So much so, that I've asked to be taken to see the new one on my birthday.  Why didn't anyone tell me they were so entertaining?? Oh, wait...

12.  You must always have at least one smelly candle in the house at all times. I haven't figured out why yet, but I think this might be the secret to being an adult.  Or the secret to always being moments from burning your house down.  Depends how you look at it.

13.  The moment I tell myself I'm going to write anything longer than a blog post (i.e "that bloody novel"), I immediately freak out and stop writing anything altogether.  Including blog posts, journal entries and shopping lists.  May be better in the long run to leave the idea of "that bloody novel" alone.  It only wants to kill all of my productivity.  Stupid bloody novel.

14.  You're more likely to find happiness in small, everyday routines than in achieving the Big Thing that you've been telling yourself you need to do in order to be successful for years (bloody chuffing NOVEL!!).  I have a job I can get immersed in, a gym I can't stay away from, great friends and family, and a boyfriend that turns a blind eye when I steal from his weirdly untouched but ever growing stash of chocolates.  What more could I want?  Apart from more chocolates?

15.  No matter how much I try to convince myself that I will one day figure out how to "eat clean" (whatever the hell that entails), I will not be able to shake the fact that "bad food" is and always will be delicious as fuck.  Food is food and as long as I'm making as much effort to eat enough nutritious things to avoid rickets and/or scurvy during the day, I can have a few(hundred) corn flake cakes too.  Shut up!  Stop judging!  STOP LOOKING STOP LOOKING STOP LOOKING!! *stuffs fifth cake down own top in bid to hide it*

16.  These lists will get a little longer every year what with all the aging.  Now learning/realising that this post will get increasingly difficult to think up life lessons for every year I live.  Oh dear.  Must cram for wisdoms over the coming year.  Wisdom submissions throughout the year welcome, readers.  PLEASE GIVE ME WISDOMS TO STEAL! Err.  Borrow.  I'll pay you in corn flake cakes.  If there are any left.

17.  Commutes of over 20mins are great.  Audio book autobiographies and podcasts are even better.  I've taken car journeys with David Mitchell and Amy Poehler chatting away at me through my speakers.  Am so glamorous and cool now, driving with the stars. 

18.  Tiny jumpers immobilize cats: 

"The moment I am free from this contraption will be your last, human!"

19.  Along with the rest of the baffled Western world, I have found myself enjoying Justin Beiber songs more often than I like to admit.  I've now learned to accept that while I am not a true Belieber, I no longer deny  the talent of whoever writes his songs for him these days.  Damn it. 

20.  Much as I think I can, I cannot rap.  Or dance.  But at least questionable dancing can be made fun by enthusiasm.  Rapping can't.  Especially with an accent like mine.  I just sound like someone  who is furious that the cups aren't the right pattern at a tea party. 

21.  Weddings are the best kind of party to be a guest at. 

22.  A marathon is entirely possible to do =)

23.  Eurovision night should be made an international holiday, and the day after it should always be a bank holiday to facilitate hangover recovery and furious downloading of so-bad-they're-amazing songs (Except for German former winner Lena's Satellite, which is just pure brilliance... I almost typed "former German winner" there, but as far as I am aware, she's still very much a German).   

24.  I no longer want to be Beyonce.  I now want to be Amy Poehler and any one of the beast-women I saw on telly in the CrossFit games last year.  Amy Bro-ler...?  Whatever.  I want to be invincible, attractive in tiny shorts, clever and paid to make people laugh with my words. 

25.  Moving to a house that has curtains will not convince your mother that you are an adult who is capable of decorating their home.  Mostly because you aren't an adult who is capable of decorating your home. No, the smelly candle doesn't count as a decoration either.

26.  Finding notes you've written to yourself in your phone months after you've written them is hilarious when they're totally without context:

27.  It's  surprisingly easy to stop giving a shit about how you look. I've mostly stopped untagging unflattering pictures of myself on Facebook and find it much more fun just to point and laugh at my own malleable mess of a face.  Check out this beaut:

I'm sure sure someone out there "would"...maybe someone from the cast of Wallace & Gromit?
Also I would like to point out that this was taken at Christmas.  I don't have a special paper dinner hat that I wear at mealtimes.

 Well, I'd better start thinking about things I need to learn for next year's "28 wisdoms"....Not sure there's enough room for that many wisdoms in my brain.  Might have to delete that last season of Dexter to make space.  It was terrible anyway. Or is that only how my Virgin Media box works?


Saturday, 16 January 2016

Reasons To Eat the Thing

So.  It's mid January.  Corporate turkey and Jesus fest is over (I love corporate turkey and Jesus fest.  Praise be Turkey).  Resolutions have been made by many and broken by most.  My genius plan was to write something every day, be it a diary entry, blog post or a bit of fiction. 

How's it going, you ask?  My last post was before Christmas.  As I may have already mentioned, it's mid January.  You tell me how it's going.

Seriously, tell me.  It's going good, right? 

The only habit that I have successfully  managed to strengthen since the house became a barren, tinsel free zone was that of eating sweet treats until I feel sick on at least a bi hourly basis.  Major first world problem, I'm fully aware, but hunger has become an foreign concept to me.  I've forgotten what it's like.  I only assume it's that feeling of being "not nauseous to my very bones."

I blame the boom in the market for "salted and sweet" products.  Popcorn is the worst siren call.  Sweet and salted popcorn is like crack to me.  I think.  I mean, I've never tried crack, but the only things that I can think of that I've been hopelessly addicted to are all food items.   It'd sound weird if I said popcorn is like cheese on toast.  Makes no sense.

Back at work, I have found daily excuses to leave the office and retrieve a my beloved bag of salted, candied crack.  I often buy two bags, thinking that having a spare for the following day will dissuade me from another trip to the supermarket solely to buy a single variety of crunchy snack.  Never works.  I just end up sheepishly (no idea why.  Who's going to catch me?  The food police?  Dear God don't tell me there are really food police) eating both bags in the car on my way from the shop and back to work.  

"Oh, you've been for a walk?"

"Yup, nice to stretch my legs. Get a bit of the old exercise."

"What's that flaky stuff on your face?"


I know in the small, shy, logical bit of my brain that rarely comes out of its hole (assume is busy reading and contemplating the universe or something) that eating 2 bags a day of nutritionally void salt and sugar lumps, plus whatever is shaped like a biscuit and not nailed down isn't going to do my mood, well being and health any good in the long run.  However, the other 99.9% of my brain has become something of an expert over the years at fighting off sensible logic-brain at moments of greed.  I have a lot of these moments.  So if you're anything like me and always need an excuse handy for when you might need to consume an entire box of toffees in one sitting (ow, my body hurts.  I feel a new chin coming on), here are some you may use at your leisure:

  • I'm tired.
  • I'm sad.
  • I'm hormonal.
  • I'm happy.
  • I'm awake.
  • I've eaten something healthy and totally deserve a reward for being so saintly.
  • I can't look like I'm on a diet or something.  Diets are ridiculous and never work.  It makes much more sense to eat until I hate myself a little bit.  Much, much healthier.
  • That particular thing is my absolute favourite thing to eat ever and so I am powerless against it.
  • This thing is also may favourite.
  • This too.
  • I'm bulking.  Bulging? Whatever.  Same difference.
  • It's okay if I eat this chewy thing because it's so chewy.  It takes more calories to chew the chewy thing than it does to digest it.
  • I regularly exercise.  That means I'm immune to fatty, sugary food, right?  I need the energy.  I'm not putting on fat.  It's muscle.  Lovely, wobbly muscle.
  • I need to have a period of eating as though all confectionery is going to be made illegal at any moment before I can turn it all around and emerge, butterfly-like from my poor, abused body.  Eventually.  That's how it works, yes
  • I've already eaten one crap thing today, so that's today out of the window.  Might as well carry on and start again tomorrow!  Nothing from now until midnight counts as a poor choice.  Hurrah!
  • I'm on a Haribo induced shame spiral and so now I need this vat of salty pretzels to counteract the guilt because it's not sweet and so will cancel the sugary snack out.
  • It's Friday.
  • It's Monday.
  • It's a day with the letter A in it.
O-kay, better stop there.  Little bit frightened by the fact that I could carry on for pages and pages.

Before I go, and because "my efforts" to keep this blerg up to date have been pants at best, here are some things:

  1. Despite my plan (As you have already seen, I am very good at sticking to plans) to stay away from longer distance races for a good, long while until my ankle gets all-the-way better, I might be signing up to the Llanelli Half Marathon.  I enjoyed the last one, despite the frigid (heh. Frigid) conditions and grim numbness from said frigid (heh heh) conditions.  It's in March and because of my new commute for work, I am unlikely to find the time to put much training in outside of Crossfit and the odd 5k.  Should be an interesting event to say the least. The only thing for certain is that I will cross the finish line if I have to crawl on my elbows, because we had cool beanie hats at the end of the last one, and I really want a new hat.  Hopefully blue this time.  Or purple.  Not fussy.
  2. Dog is still alive.  Excellent.
  3. Cat is still a resident of our humble abode and has entered into a reluctant friendship with Dog.  Albeit a one sided friendship where Dog repeatedly sniffs Cat's anus until Hell breaks loose.  Aww.  So cute.
  4. I recently saw all bar the newest Star Wars movies.  I couldn't be any later to the party, and I want to blog about my reactions to them, but I need to see the newest one first in order to put my inane thoughts down in writing.  Soon.


Right, I'm off to have an argument with myself about the merit of getting out of my pyjamas and heading down the street to where my car is parked to retrieve the bag of popcorn I've just remembered I've not inhaled yet.  By out of my pyjamas, I mean "and into clothes".  Don't want to become infamous for being the local naked snacker.