Generic new year new diet bullshit blog post

I never agreed with diets. I thought they were unnecessary, ridiculous, and shallow. I love Kate Moss, but when she said ‘nothing tastes as good as skinny feels’, I thought ‘oh fuck off’ and reached for the pizza. But then I was 7 and a half stone for most of my late teens and early 20s. I didn’t need to diet. At first it was just because I had a fast metabolism. I could eat literally whatever I wanted and nothing happened. But then, just like Kate Moss, I had a little help from some class A friends. I also used to pole dance a lot more, so that kept me fit too. Plus I had youth on my side.

From around my mid-twenties, I started slowly putting on weight. I went to 8 and a half stone first, which in BMI terms is apparently the perfect weight for my height. Then a few years later it went up to 9 and a half stone, then the other day I weighed myself, and it said I was 10 stone. Now in some ways I love being a bit curvier. For a start I never thought I’d see the day when someone would ask me my bra size and I would proudly answer ‘34D’. I always liked the shape of my boobs, even when they were a B cup, but now I fucking love them. But I’m going to be honest now – I do want to lose around a stone.

There’s a lot on social media currently about body positivity, and I feel like it’s unfashionable now to say that you want to go on a diet. The thing is, I do still love my body, I just know that I loved it a bit better when I was around 8 and a half – 9 stone. I know I’ll never be a size 8 again, and I’m okay with that – I don’t really want to be. I did look too thin when I was 7 and a half stone, and heroin chic isn’t really in anymore. (Sorry Kate).  And I do want to keep most of the boobs. But I also want to be able to fit back into my old size 10 dresses and shorts, and be able to look down see my pussy again without having to suck my tummy in.

I also feel like if I carry on like this, then I’ll just keep putting on weight every few years, so I need to nip it in the bud now, before it becomes even harder to control. And I know it’s a cliché, but it’s not just about aesthetics –  I also want to just get fit and healthy too. I want to be able to hang upside down backwards on a pole again without feeling like I’m going to fall down and die at any second.

My problem is self control. I love food. It’s my favourite thing in the whole world. I love it more than wine, and comedy, and kinky sex, and Buffy the fucking Vampire Slayer. It makes me so excited. And I the hate the idea of having to deny myself food that I want. I like the gratuitous decadence of being greedy with food. I find eating a little bit sexy sometimes. I will never ever not eat in front of a date for fear of what they will think of me. God I feel hungry just typing this. I disagree with diets and restriction in principle. Live the life you want! But I have to acknowledge that sometimes living the life you want means making some lifestyle changes.

So this month I’m trying not to eat chocolate, cakes, and biscuits at all to curb the addiction to sugar, and then I can add it back but to a much lower extent. And I’m also trying to eat fewer bad carbs like white bread and white pasta, as your body processes them as sugar too. I want to go from what I eat being 60% carbs to eventually around 20%. I also want to start doing yoga every day, and more regular dance classes, running, hula hooping, and bike riding this year. In terms of drinking, I’m going to attempt to replace wine with vodka, lime, and soda at least half the time. But I won’t ever be doing dry January, or Veganuary for that matter. Mainly because I don’t wish to take all the joy completely out of my life.

My idea is not to think of it in a restrictive way – so rather than ‘oh crap I can’t have chocolate or ciabatta’. I’m trying to think of it more like  – awesome I can eat lots of cheese, and avocados, and steak. And eggs. I made some banging poached eggs the other day. And I’m not going to be a total annoying holier than thou dickhead about it. I’ll give myself cheat days. Of course. Just not too many. My problem has been that I’ve been seeing every day as a cheat day since 2003. (Prior to 2003 I lived at home and my mother was quite strict about what I could and couldn’t eat. Thus resulting in me eating everything in sight once I went to Uni and not ever learning the concept of moderation. Thanks mum).

By the way, I know some people talk about their body because they are either consciously or subconsciously fishing for compliments. I’m not writing this article because I want lots of people to write back and say ‘no you’re gorgeous, you don’t need to lose any weight’! (Although if you’d like to do that, don’t let me stop you).

I’m writing it because I think it’s okay to say that there’s something you are unhappy with about yourself and you want to change it.  And it’s not anti feminist, or body shaming to talk about it. Of course it’s also totally fine if you’re happy and don’t want to change anything! Or if you find diets problematic due to previous health issues with food. Or if you’re going on a diet and you’re doing it in a different way. I’m just trying what I think will work for me, and want to put this out there as a way of giving my perspective on it, and something to look back on at the end of the year and see if I reached my goal. Now where’s that fucking halloumi? 

 

Happy Fucking New Year

In 2016, one of the jobs that I was doing meant I had to work Saturday and Sunday daytime on both New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. I’d been invited to a small house party / gathering at my friend’s house for NYE, and was fully intending on going, but then got home and decided not to. I put a pizza in the oven, drank some wine, and put a film on. (I can’t remember which film, but I remember it being good). At midnight I looked out my window and saw some fireworks, and thought ‘this is way better than going out on NYE’.

Everyone is familiar with the hype of NYE, and the cliché that it’s always a hassle going out, and never as good as you expect it to be. I barely ever go to bars / clubs on New Years, and often spend it at a house party or gathering. And actually I’ve had some really fun nights doing that. But I forgot all of this, and became a bit obsessed with the idea of spending it alone. After all my own company is amazing – and I can never disappoint myself, right?

For the next few weeks after NYE 2016, I proceeded to tell everyone smugly that I’d had the best night of my life on my own at home. Then when anyone asked me what I was doing for NYE 2017, I told the same story again and how excited I was about replicating it. This ensured that for the first time in about 16 years, absolutely NOBODY asked me to do something with them on NYE (up until the actual day when one friend invited me to a gathering). But I was insistent on not going out.

In the late afternoon of the actual day, I decided to masturbate, as I‘m trying to learn how to cum while kneeling, so that in 2018 I can fulfil one of my lifelong ambitions of squirting all over a man’s face. I ended up having probably the best orgasm of my life so far. It was so good that I immediately had to drinks some wine afterwards to calm myself down again. And maybe that was the problem. I peaked too soon. When you’re having multiple orgasms at 5pm, the rest of the night is obviously going to be a bit of a let down.

After the orgasm of the century, I made chicken curry, and some more mulled wine, and finished watching ‘Coupling’, which I’ve been re-watching recently. If you’ve never seen it, or you’ve forgotten how good it was, then I recommend watching it again. I love the intricate details of their mishaps, and the way the storytelling is edited and cut together. Also it’s from the early 2000s, which is very almost the 90s, so obviously I have a nostalgia thing going on for it.

Chicken curry, rice, and salad

After that I thought I should put on some music and have my own little mini party at home. I remember how me and one of my friends have spent a couple of New years together dancing to 90s music, specifically PJ & Duncan, and decided to listen to them, ironically, of course. (At first anyway).

Recently I saw someone post on Facebook that ‘Airplane’ was one the top 10 funniest films ever, and I thought – I should rewatch that. So I put it on. It was good, but not as funny as I remembered it. Maybe because I was watching it alone, there were no shared moments of laughter with anyone else. Looks like I picked the wrong day to watch ‘Airplane’.

After that I spoke on the phone to a friend, ran out of wine, and went to the shop to get some more. At midnight I went to my bathroom, and watched the various fireworks that were going off all over north London. After that I just remember drinking more wine, and staying up quite late for no reason.

It was ok. But it definitely wasn’t the best night of my life. I think 2016 had been so good, because I had been fully prepared to go out, but then made the impulse decision not to, so had to make the most of it, and enjoyed the relief of not having to make an effort to see people. It was similar to when a friend cancels on you and you’re secretly happy that you get a night in to yourself.

Even though I’m naturally an extrovert (ENFP and proud), sometimes I can be very introverted. As I once tweeted something like: ‘being an introverted extrovert means sometimes I hate people and want to be left alone, and sometimes I hate people but I need attention’. I do love spending time on my own, but I have been doing it a lot recently, and it makes me forget that I do also enjoy going out and seeing friends etc.  

Sometimes I convince myself that I’ll get loads done – I’ll do yoga, and creative stuff, and finally sort out those boxes I haven’t looked at since I moved 4 years ago, but then just end up spending most of the time on my phone. Which I’m still trying to do less of after the blog post last year about this. Who can actually keep their phone on flight mode for more that half and hour without checking it?! It’s so difficult. At least this evening I’ve written this blog post, which counts for something. But I need to stop hibernating, and start living a bit more. So that’s what I plan to do this year.

As for New Year’s Eves from now on, I’m going out. Not out out. Just to a house party. Invite me to all your parties. I’ll pick the best one. Or I’ll do some sort of house party crawl. Making sure I attend all of them for fear of missing out. Either that, or if I do end up staying in, it will be because I’m going to have the best orgasm of my life with someone else there. Forget kissing as the clock strikes midnight, I’d like to be fucking as the clock strikes midnight. I’ll let my pussy do the fireworks.