No I’m not talking about the weather. That would just be silly.
I’m talking about abstaining from the glorious nectar that is alcohol. Any form. Wine, beer, vodka, Jack Daniels, Bailey’s, pretty much anything that I had on tap over Christmas.
In favour of my “eat less, do more” lifestyle that I am learning to adapt to (with aching muscles to prove it) I thought it would be sensible (afterthought - stupid) to give up alcohol on weekdays. Not easily done, but I conquered the good stuff. But then I had to get all competitive with myself and decide to give up until my birthday - 25th January for those who wish to worship and adore.
So I am one week down with around two more to go.
Fab.
All in all, this lifestyle change does seem to be working. Have made acquaintances with the gym again, which is no easy feat when I have to battle with my boobs if I so much as decide to skip, let alone run. Thankfully I am not in black-eye stages as of yet, though the male glances (admiring or horrified, unsure which) are a little disconcerting. Thankfully with the aid of one’s bright pink iPod, I can pretend I’m Beyonce, Katy Perry or similar. Unfortunately, have habit of forgetting where I am and can be known to sing. “I kissed a girl and I liked iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!” doesn’t quite have the right affect when surrounded by sweaty individuals with their game face on.
When I am not at the gym, which is pretty much most of the time, because I am, by no means, a gym bunny, (gym bear perhaps?) I have resorted to dancing around the living room in form of hog gazelle, elegantly completing Clare from Steps’ fitness video. I have become very talented at this and have only banged into the sofa once or twice. Even have personal trainer, in form of Jack Russell, who for all his enthusiasm, prefers sit-ups or Canine Cardiovascular Activity, which he has wittily shortened to Walkies. Either way, progress is progress.
Food-wise, while the fat girl inside me screams for mashed potato, I am favouring forcing myself to eat the delectable nourishment that is soup, soup or water, switching only for a balanced meal in the evenings. Boring isn’t it?
Have now resorted to opening my Naughty Cupboard and staring lustfully, drool optional. Have also developed stalker tendencies and tend to frequent the chocolate aisle far too often at Sainsbury’s. Sure that Cadbury’s will take out a restraining order against me at some point, either that or enrol into some form of protection programme, while I rub Fruit & Nut all over my face while screaming…
I digress.
Yeah, so diet is going well then.
I have pain where my tail would be, if I had a tail that is…
Happy New Year!
I haven’t been on here in ages, but…start as you mean to go on. I’m back. Perhaps temporarily but still, back.
2011. New Year. God. 2010 was a bit of a bitch for me. Not a bad year, but a hard one. Lots to do. Lots of change. But I’m hoping this year will be a little LOT easier.
New Year’s Resolution? Well, last year’s was to pass my driving test. In fact, that has been my NYR for the last few years…BUT I didn’t give up and I now have a super cute pink driving licence, which I use only when I get asked for ID because I sort of haven’t driven since…
This year’s, apart from the usual aim to be a little healthier (as is the same with most girls) is to enjoy myself a bit more. At the tender age of 22 (23 on 25th January - fuuuuuuck) I have a social life comparable to that of a 90 year-old pensioner. In fact, that is actually offensive, because at least they go to bingo and have friends and stuff.
No, this year, I will be a social butterfly…perhaps moth…baby steps. I want to catch up with my old friend Gym (my arse is growing at an alarming rate - blame pigs in blankets), see my friends more, leave home for something a little more exciting than work, go on holiday (this is a neccessity - have fears of death otherwise) and just generally learn to have fun again.
Last year I bought a house, moved out of the flat, moved into the house, decorated house, attacked garden (garden was/still is in manner of Secret Garden pre-nurture), adopted dog (realised responsibility of being someone’s mother and have since added a couple more years to the I’m Ready For A Baby step), decorated house some more, worked like a bitch and generally forgot how to have fun. It was a year of achievement and hard work. Oh yay.
This year I will decorate house a little bit (just a teeny bit) and then spend the rest of the time smiling and being cool and sophisticated like heroines from books or similar. Oh. And drink wine.
Will also write novel and become hugely rich and successful, may use name or think of witty pseudonym and in the author’s bit at the end, there will just be a picture of my dog or something. Oh and will also turn down X Factor even though Simon will beg and Cheryl will want to be my best friend.
Yep. All in a year’s work.
(via leilockheart, leilockheart)
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