I realised that creating a blog is the easiest. Getting people to read it is another ball game. After two days of sending out my first thoughts into cyber space I happily waited for some comments. None came, and from what I know, through agonised searching on the web, none will unless I get some spiders to come crawl over it.
Enough said on the subject, I had a dull day yesterday. I surfed the net, sent my toddler, henceforth referred to as A, to the daycare and came home and lounged reading my favourite author Terry Pratchett. If you haven't read him and think of yourself as someone who can appreciate wit, then you must read him. Your life will change and you will find yourself giggling to TP.
I ate a bag full of chips, and forever it will stay on my hips. But, while I munched through it, and it took me the whole afternoon (munch them slooooowly),I felt greasy and stupid.
Got heartburn at 6:30pm and after feeding the family and reading a bedtime story to A and putting her to bed, I watched two episodes of CSI and went back to reading TP. Bah, that's it I don't have much to say for yesterday. It was just such a dull day.
do wrest in peace
Friday, March 30, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
My very first post
ok, so I have finally jumped on the bandwagon and created a weblog...many years too late, but atleast like the tortoise I made it..yeaaaa
When I set out to create the blog I wondered just what I would write about and then decided to take the easy way out and just ramble...which as I write this I realise everybody does...right?
So here is how I ramble..right now I want to talk about all things fattening and fat. Which should tell you that I might be in the whole lotta fat category..ping..you are the brightest link, you stay.
So, yes, I am an exceedingly rotund lass and a tad vertically challenged too. Used to be a time I would go to the kids' section to get my jeans, now I will be lucky if I can just get into a pair that doesn't make me think," whoa what a bloody big backside!" Then again since it is my butt I speak so candidly about, I can pretty much go whoaaa anything.
I have been trying to lose weight and last september, after having kept my brand new elliptical in the basement for nearly two years, I brought it upstairs and got on. I huffed and I puffed and then I huffed a whole lot more and in three months I was down by about 22 pounds,. Mind you I was eating barely a 1000 calories a day. Anyhoo, there I was a skippin' and a runnin' and losing my lard...then the holiday season came along, and candy and pies and booze happened. Needless to say I welcomed 2007 feeling decidedly bloated.
And once you get that bloaty feeling you know you want it to stick around a while, so you can tell yourself it's the dreaded PMS or water retention that seems to run in the family...and u can really get at that last slice of pizza or reach out for that last bit of cake leftover from the weekend's eat-all-you-want. Next thing you know it's March and you are still feeling decidely bloated and creating a blog to write about that groovy feeling!
I recently had this episode I like to call the-trying-on-ten-pairs-of-pants-only-to-get-a-101-on-the-ten-spots-on-your-body-that-just-don't-look-right. Yeah, if you think that is a long name think of me trying those ten pairs while the super slim shop assistant pasted a smile on her face and asked if everything was allright, while I went, "yes, thank you..ahhh umm, I am not going to be taking any," and got the hell out.
And while I am on the topic, I might as well mention the Bridget Jonesesque underwear that is my lot. Now I am a rotund busty dame and unlike many I don't really want to be that busted. Or rotund for that matter. God has been kind where I least wanted her to be. Anyhoo..anything above 36dd is a veritable parachute! And making it a lacy parachute only makes it worse..a travesty of all that my sensibilities stand for. I find them grotesque *shudder*. Ofcourse I speak only for myself. For me it comes down to -- have melons will buy wonderbra. No lace, that's not me, and usually nothing other than black, white or beige. I say usually, because if you sell me a purple number in my size for real cheap, I will lay aside my rules as fast as u can bag it.
Anyhoo, the helpful shop assistant at Sears, as they always do, suggested I try another brand. Now I tend to be rather obedient at such times and obliged her dutifully. If I could have squealed in horror I would have , but I ain't the squealing kind and so merely shuddered when I put on the suggested 18-hour support travesty they called a bra. I could have been a loony in a strait jacket for all the comfort and style it gave me. In another age it could have served as crude body armour, but in 2007 it made me want to pull my hair and headbutt the nearest flagpole. I don't know where the celebrity fat babes like Kirstie Alley go for their fittings, but they aren't headed to Sears or Walmart I can tell you.
This happened today, which is why this whole first post about the good lard and some ghastly underwear.
wrest in peace
When I set out to create the blog I wondered just what I would write about and then decided to take the easy way out and just ramble...which as I write this I realise everybody does...right?
So here is how I ramble..right now I want to talk about all things fattening and fat. Which should tell you that I might be in the whole lotta fat category..ping..you are the brightest link, you stay.
So, yes, I am an exceedingly rotund lass and a tad vertically challenged too. Used to be a time I would go to the kids' section to get my jeans, now I will be lucky if I can just get into a pair that doesn't make me think," whoa what a bloody big backside!" Then again since it is my butt I speak so candidly about, I can pretty much go whoaaa anything.
I have been trying to lose weight and last september, after having kept my brand new elliptical in the basement for nearly two years, I brought it upstairs and got on. I huffed and I puffed and then I huffed a whole lot more and in three months I was down by about 22 pounds,. Mind you I was eating barely a 1000 calories a day. Anyhoo, there I was a skippin' and a runnin' and losing my lard...then the holiday season came along, and candy and pies and booze happened. Needless to say I welcomed 2007 feeling decidedly bloated.
And once you get that bloaty feeling you know you want it to stick around a while, so you can tell yourself it's the dreaded PMS or water retention that seems to run in the family...and u can really get at that last slice of pizza or reach out for that last bit of cake leftover from the weekend's eat-all-you-want. Next thing you know it's March and you are still feeling decidely bloated and creating a blog to write about that groovy feeling!
I recently had this episode I like to call the-trying-on-ten-pairs-of-pants-only-to-get-a-101-on-the-ten-spots-on-your-body-that-just-don't-look-right. Yeah, if you think that is a long name think of me trying those ten pairs while the super slim shop assistant pasted a smile on her face and asked if everything was allright, while I went, "yes, thank you..ahhh umm, I am not going to be taking any," and got the hell out.
And while I am on the topic, I might as well mention the Bridget Jonesesque underwear that is my lot. Now I am a rotund busty dame and unlike many I don't really want to be that busted. Or rotund for that matter. God has been kind where I least wanted her to be. Anyhoo..anything above 36dd is a veritable parachute! And making it a lacy parachute only makes it worse..a travesty of all that my sensibilities stand for. I find them grotesque *shudder*. Ofcourse I speak only for myself. For me it comes down to -- have melons will buy wonderbra. No lace, that's not me, and usually nothing other than black, white or beige. I say usually, because if you sell me a purple number in my size for real cheap, I will lay aside my rules as fast as u can bag it.
Anyhoo, the helpful shop assistant at Sears, as they always do, suggested I try another brand. Now I tend to be rather obedient at such times and obliged her dutifully. If I could have squealed in horror I would have , but I ain't the squealing kind and so merely shuddered when I put on the suggested 18-hour support travesty they called a bra. I could have been a loony in a strait jacket for all the comfort and style it gave me. In another age it could have served as crude body armour, but in 2007 it made me want to pull my hair and headbutt the nearest flagpole. I don't know where the celebrity fat babes like Kirstie Alley go for their fittings, but they aren't headed to Sears or Walmart I can tell you.
This happened today, which is why this whole first post about the good lard and some ghastly underwear.
wrest in peace
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