"That's a good inch...YES!"

I’ve had a week-long stomach bug. I have to say, I quite enjoy a little stomach flu; probably in a way that only a chubby girl can, especially post christmas.

Every cloud has a silver lining eh?

All the sweating, shivering and vomiting aside – I’m quite happy to be a few pounds lighter at next to no effort. It really doesn’t feel like dieting if you genuinely aren’t hungry. Let’s face it, anything that gives me a relatively painless kick-start to the new year diet is going to be welcomed.

City Sprinter to Eastwood. No joke.

The only downside is, obviously, still having to drag my sorry arse into work. After a day of almost solid dry-boaking, I’m exhausted. The journey to and from work has jumped up a notch in the discomfort stakes, now that everyone is back from their Christmas Holidays and absolutely determined to CRAM themselves onto the City Sprinter.

SHHHHH GEMMA!!!!

Anyway, I need to go. I feel an attack of the dry boak coming on and I still need to put cat food out for Gemma who is currently scream-miaowing in my face.

Anyway, don’t forget to comment/share/subscribe to my blog, if you like it. x

I'm not quite as bad as this....YET!

Due to an extreme drop in my ‘give a fuck’ gauge; I’ve taken to wearing training shoes on the journey to and from work (see picture above). I know it looks a bit crazy but the weather really forced my hand on this one. I took one look outside yesterday morning; looked at my heeled boots  and thought “NOPE!”.

Like this (almost exactly)

My walk to work yesterday was pretty terrifying. On top of the fact the street is near lined with big, heavy-looking trees, there are a few big houses with precarious looking solar panels attached to the roofs (is that right? roofs?). I understand people (with money) might want to wean themselves off fossil fuels but I couldn’t help feel annoyed at them for wanting saving the planet, while I was having to worry about getting scoped in the napper by one if the wind decided to carry it off.

SELFISH!!!

I did my best ‘morning run-walk’ past them. You know, that half walk/half run you do in the morning when your joints are just waking up and you haven’t quite got the hang of any co-ordination yet?

Like this? No? Just me?

It was fine anyway, and I was glad I had my stupid boots in a bag so I didn’t have to also worry about doing one of these numbers.

A constant fear....

It was all going well, too. I was loving that I didn’t have to worry about falling while running for the bus after work anymore. But as we know, the universe has its little ways of making you remember that it doesn’t LIKE you to have things easy.

Somewhere, an evil genie is probably laughing at all your fails.

So, after work I rejoiced in the fact that I made the early bus and climbed on with a spring in my step, all happy with my own cleverness. Why doesn’t EVERYONE do this, I thought. Stupid work shoes in a bag, BOOM – on with the trainers. YES!!!

I was like THAT!

Then, it happened.

I did this face (inside)

As I strode widely and confidently, in my own wee smug bubble, I saw something unfold that I was powerless to prevent.

The plastic bag with my cold, hard heels swung with alarming momentum toward the bony knee of an unsuspecting old man sitting at the front of the bus. DINK! The noise actually made me wince.

I'll never enjoy this noise ever again...

The business end of a thick heel THWACKED his frail old knee. He let out a faint groan and looked up at me accusingly, clutching his knee. I apologised then hurried past and took a seat, totally ashamed. I stared at him and watched him rubbing his glass knee for a few seconds until HE probably forgot about it.

But I couldn’t. He didn’t look that old, maybe 60-odd, but he was FRAIL and sitting at the FRONT of the bus. Sometimes I think older men purposely walk past the front seats on the bus just to PROVE they don’t need them. The fact that my poor victim had needed to sit at the front, got me thinking; imagine he had just come out of hospital or something?

I looked at my stupid boots in my stupid bag and my stupid trainers and knew it was the end of, what could have been, a beautiful partnership. I’m simply too clumsy to be trusted.

Probably my next move from here...

So tomorrow, it’s back to normal. SAKE.

Don’t forget to comment/like/wpress/subscribe to my blog. I’ll love you forever.

*dusts hands*

Just when you think you’ve got the year wrapped up, and it’s all gone swimmingly well (except this) – you still have to have a  SUCCESSFUL Hogmanay celebration or the whole year gets classed as being shite.

Last night I was in that dreaded position of having to:

1) Get a taxi

2) Ask the taxi driver if he could stop at the shops because I needed a cash point and an off-licence (of course)

At the junction between Merrylee Road and Clarkston Road the taxi driver turned the corner and nearly rear-ended someone. I wasn’t prepared for it because I was too busy looking at my phone. The taxi driver slammed his anchors on and we screeched to a halt. It was quite a hairy moment.

I was just thankful we could continue on the journey or that would have been my night FUCKED.

Seriously mate, can you just phone get me another taxi?

Unfortunately, the driver then went to the wrong shops and had to double back. When we passed the shops the first time the cash point was free but when we got back there were two people there. By the time I’d walked up to it, there were three people. Three people, folks.

It felt like the three people who were in front of me seemed to taking AGES using them. You know the kind of people I mean; the kind that get a balance, a printed balance AND cash with a receipt. I think the second lassie actually took her card out then put it back in again. I actually pictured me punching her in the back of the head, then stepping over her unconscious body – but everyone gets a little impatient when they have a taxi waiting. Don’t they???

Internal rage dilmma: Be kicked to death now or risk a tumour later?

I got into the Off-Licence and there were two lassie pals trying to decide what they were buying AT the counter. The helpful attendant was telling them of special offers and the lassies were debating what to buy. I knew what I wanted, I wanted Vodka. If I was at the counter I’d say, “Oh, you go ahead I can’t decide yet!” but NO- I’m waiting with a taxi running like a total dafty.

I got there eventually at a £3 different in taxi fare, which I fully blame on keeping the driver waiting for 10 minutes while people act like rude arseholes. I eventually arrived at my pals house sweating like a rapist jogging up and down the Broomilaw (too soon?). But seriously, it was a bad start to the night, I was pure sweating.

I.fucking.wish.

As soon as I arrived I could see the funny side of all the delay, I was here now and all was fine. Cut to an hour later when my neck starts KILLING ME. So I have whiplash. I’m starting 2012 with whiplash, which will delay my exercise/fitness/no cake plan by at least a WEEK. What are your immediate plans for January? I’m going to be take painkillers and acting like a wounded cat. The way I see it, things can only get better.

YES!

Don’t forget to comment/share/subscribe to my blog. I know where you live.

So, we are saying goodbye to 2011. This has been a strange year, simply because a lot has happened: I’ve changed my job, made some lovely new friends, celebrated my younger brothers’ wedding to one of my best friends…the list goes on. I’m extremely lucky. The universe has looked after me this year in a big way, and I’ve had several moments when the amazing realisations of how lucky I am have overwhelmed me to the point of full on smug bubble levels.

Like this...

It’s been a great year, but because of that – 2012 could go either way. It has the potential to be worse than this year, but it also has the potential to be even better. So, for that reason, my New Years resolution is that I am going to do everything I can to MAKE it better. I’m going to actively pursue an even better year for myself. I don’t have it all planned out exactly; but just as I tackled some shit in 2011- I’m going to actively tackle a lot of shit in 2012.

Like doing more of this...

Nobody is perfect, and of course we will all get things wrong next year. But who cares, because in 365 days from now, we will be able to look back on it all and say – “PHEW, I’m glad I got past THAT…now to next year!”

It’s easy to dwell on all the bullshit that life can throw at you. But don’t be blind, because you are probably one of the luckiest people you know, in your own way. Nobody can have all the exact things in your life which make it amazing. This year you can make some real progress, because it’s all in front of you to grab with both hands. No doubt we will lose more amazing people in 2012, but we’ll face all of that together at the time – and we’ll come out together at the other side.

If you have any regrets then let them go. It’s time to shake it off. A wise woman once said, “If you can’t look back at all of the laughs and all of the tears and know you’ve learned something; then it’s been a wasted year!” Those are some words to live by right there.

Tonight I’m going to spend some time with my family, then, I’m going to go to a party and start making some mistakes.

I expect full reports of everyone’s Hogmanay plans and New Year’s Resolutions for 2012 in the comments section. If you do one more worthwhile thing before the year is gone, make that to subscribe and share my blog. If you don’t, you know what happens next….

Remember....

HAVE A GOOD ONE! Look after yourselves. xx

WHY? WHY WHY WHY WHY?

Last night, I fell victim to the dreaded ‘sharp toy in the foot’ injury. After Christmas, the risk of this sort of eye-watering and frankly infuriating accident increases by about 100%.

Most parents will know the score already; you sneak in to tuck the little one(s) in and kiss them goodnight and even though you managed to get over to them with no problem, somehow, when you turn to tip-toe out the room you stand on something tiny, razor-sharp and end up doing that silent scream number.

Like this...

This year, Santa brought the kids a lot of little collectable  toys that we told them to keep in good condition and – apart from the Matt Smith Dr Who figure whose head nearly ended up embedded in the soul of my foot, they’ve managed quite well so far.

Despite a full on (and pretty brutal) clear-out of all the old and broken toys in order to make way for a mountain of new toys, the kids room looks something like this.

NOT REALLY!!

When you have kids, for a period of about a week immediately following Christmas, all hell will break loose in your house. Unless you are super-organised, which I’m not, then it takes time to find space for all the new stuff. If you are trying to cram everything into one room, good luck. If you manage this quick enough then you might avoid hurting yourself, by standing or tripping over things, after dear old St Nick has visited your children.

Good luck trying to make sense of those instruction, folks...

Not to mention the sheer frustration in getting all those board games set up and explaining all the rules. It’s enough to harsh the melons of even the most patient parent.

So, right now, I’m off to set-up and explain ‘Guess Who’ to the kids. If you don’t hear from me again it’s possibly because I’m in a mental-health ward somewhere; curled in the fetal position, sucking my thumb and cursing the name of Santa Claus.

What are your least favourite moments in the aftermath of Christmas?

WISH ME LUCK!

Don't forget to comment/ share/ subcribe to the blog, or else!

She's thinking ''...at least I still have a nice face!" CORRECT ATTITUDE, I say.

I know everyone will worry about their weight at some point in the year. Christmas is usually the peak of that time for me. The thought of sitting round with all my family, who are prone to ripping the piss, makes me suddenly go “oh shiiit!”.

This year it started a bit earlier than usual for me though; when I caught sight of my face in a rear-view mirror last week. It took me a second to recognise my own face, which is when you know it’s bad.

You know, 'that' moment.

The problem is, I absolutely love myself. I know what you’re thinking – that isn’t a bad thing, surely? Well, let me tell you it CAN be. I call it Reverse Body Dysmorphia…no matter how much weight I put on over the year, I still look in the mirror and think “YES!”.

In this voice.

It’s bad I know. Although I always say self deprecation is the laziest form of humour – I’m still brilliant at it. Why? Because I LOVE myself. Don’t get me wrong, there are things I’d like to change and I make at least 3 strong attempts per year at it; but overall my thought is – well, I’ve got some great features and if there are people who don’t agree then so fucking what. People can get a bit annoyed with you if you make jokes about yourself because they think you are being serious, or like a lot of people do, fishing for compliments. If you don’t take yourself seriously then I don’t think it’s about any of that; it’s about having a laugh because, at the end of the day, you are pretty secure with yourself.

At the moment I’ve been eating roughly two dinners per day for the last week between all the visiting and Christmas get-togethers. I feel like bursting at the seams.

If you are giving yourself the heavy guilt trip about all the shit you end up eating over Christmas, then relax. It doesn’t matter. You can always lose it over the next month or so, no problem. Go look at yourself in the mirror, pick out your favourite feature and say ”a few mince pies won’t change my beautiful (insert)!” then go back to your business. You’ll feel better, unless your favourite feature is cheek-bones or a six-pack.

If THIS is your bag, then maybe just ignore my festive eating advice, ok? Ok!

If you’ve got body issue’s in general then my advice is to completely ignore those parts you don’t like and focus all your love on your GOOD parts. Makes things sooooo much easier. Until you try and get into a pair of Primark jammies, that is!!!

" I don't get it, this nightie is the RIGHT size!??!!"

So, even though I feel like I’m reaching critical mass, I’m not about to get all morose about it. Fuck it. It’s CHRISTMAS. Right?

Don’t forget to like/share/comment/subscribe to my blog. I post every few days. I’ll love you forever.

I was never really been into mens buns until recently. Yes, I say ‘buns’; I think the word ‘bum’ is very unattractive.

'Buns' conjure up a far nicer image don't they? Mmmm buns.....see?

Anyway, I was never particularly bothered if a guy had a nice pair of buns, because it wasn’t something I looked at, really. Recently though, I’ve been on a pure bun frenzy (if you will). Honestly, I cannot stop checking out mens arses. There’s nothing better than seeing a guy with a hot arse. Thing is, imagine I was a guy saying all that about girls arses…I’d be totally derided as a mad sex pest.

Well, I’m here to tell you that women can be sex pests too.

So right now I’m holding my hands up and saying, to all the guys right now – I’m checking out your arses, ok? YEP! I’m checking them RIGHT out.

If I had £1 for everytime I’ve seen some guy clocking on my chest I’d be one rich lassie right now.

So don’t grudge me a wee look at some hot guys in awesome jeans, ok? (girls, click here

Who thinks it’s out of order for people to have a wee sly check of someones goods? Is it? Or is it just nature? Tell me what you think! As long as you don’t go out on the rape or anything, looking’s ok surely? Who’s guilty? And what are your sneaky swatching techniques. SHARE THEM!

(The blog now has a sharing feature so if you like the blog then please share it with your friends, and feel free to subscribe – I’ll be updating every 2 days)

I don’t grudge people showing each other a little affection, but there IS a limit.

So, I’ve put together a short list of questions to ask yourself before you start getting stuck into someone in public like a horny fucking teenager…

1)    Are you in the closing scene of a Hollywood romantic comedy?

This is NOT you, ok?

2)       Did your partner just ask you to marry them?

Allowable!!

3)       Have you just received the best gift ever?

Possibly!!

4)       Are you about to be parted for a long period of time due to war and may never see each other again?

He’d be in a cupboard, going NOWHERE!

5)       Have you just saved the world together?

Don’t think so!!

If the answer to all of these questions is NO then there is absolutely no need for this ….

Seriously, can you NOT do that please?  

Other people DO NOT want to see your sex faces. OK?? Cretins.

Am I wrong, people?

We all know someone who is a total fucking train wreck. Someone who probably seems OK to start, but when you scratch the surface, you come away thinking…”Hmmm, no sure about him/her!”. You might give them the benefit of the doubt, and why not? Everyone has their shit don’t they? Well, if you DON’T know someone like that, then YOU are that person.

Not convinced? You don’t need to display all of these characteristics but here is a handy list of behaviours that make you that guy/girl.

1) You spend a large portion of most/every conversation with others talking about the opposite sex; including (but not limited to) how you NEEED to find a nice girlfriend/boyfriend, how you cried even when your last brief relationship ended, how many numbers you normally collect at the weekend, your weekly pulling strategy etc etc etc.

2) Indiscriminately flirting with anyone who is above averagely attractive even if they are of the same sex. (and you’re ”not gay”)

3) Name dropping famous people who you may/may not have met in at least 1 conversation of vague relevance per week.

4) Constantly boasting about fantastic food eateries you frequent in at least 1 conversation of vague relevance per week.

5) Updating your Facebook with a status that you hope your friends will read and contact you immediately about.

6) Wearing entirely inappropriate clothing for any occasion (on purpose) and absolutely loving the extra attention it brings. This includes, wearing too much AND too little to social occasions.

7) Going out with someone for 3 weeks then start calling them ”the hubby” or ”the wife” etc and whinging about not being able to see your friends anymore.

8 ) Butting in on other peoples conversations to talk about football/x-factor/Towie etc etc

9) Voting for the Conservative Party

10) Still talking about your ex when you’ve been married/in a relationship for more than 2 years.

If you recognise any of these characteristics in yourself, then I’m just saying have a fucking word with yourself. It’s fine. I’m sure you are still popular/pretty/handsome. As I say, everyone has their shit don’t they? But just own it. OWN the fact that you are a fucking train wreck of a human being and don’t assume these characteristics make you less conspicuous; chances are EVERYONE knows you are fucked three ways from Sunday. So just wind your neck in, sit the fuck doon and above all, relaaaax.

I’m not saying I’m NOT one of these people. I’m not saying that. Just so we all are clear.