I am absolutely thrilled to report that I just had another blood test and as of about an hour ago I am the world’s most HIV-free woman. And that finally concludes three months of clean living and celibacy, following an unfortunate event involving condoms at the start of December 2013. The Hills Are No Longer Alive and I am going to leave that pile of work on my desk, go out this evening and give that Chinese guy everything that is coming to him.
Fucking hell. Pass the kushempeng. Pass it over.
Frankie Paul: Pass The Kushempeng
LOOK AT THAT. 133 LBS.
I didn’t make it to the gym yesterday but I have been dieting fairly conscientiously for a couple of days and LOOK where it has got us. 133.6 pounds. Needless to say, I have weighed myself 18 times this morning in case it was a fluke. The lowest weight that I can get the scales to show is 133.0, and the highest is 134.0, so I am taking 133.6 as an average and it is in fact the weight that the scales show the most often.
I can hardly believe it. I would go to the gym right now, but I have so much work on, I need to get right on it. I also need some breakfast because I am ravenous. I fully expect to have gained ten pounds again by tomorrow but nothing, nothing can take away from the joy this morning of seeing the magic number 133 appear on those scales.
I’ve been on this particular path of achievement since 29 July 2011, so almost exactly 2.5 years ago. I can’t believe it took that long. I also can’t believe that I finally did it. I’m the same weight now that I was in 2005. It was mostly through exercise, as I am so crap at dieting. It took 2.5 years, over 100 walks, 40 weight training sessions, 40 swims, 50 runs and about 65 assorted other activities. I am not only slim, I am fairly muscular.
I’m also thrilled to report that even though I’m an old lady and losing collagen by the second, Satan has blessed me so much that I have no loose skin. Everything has co-operatively shrunk back into place, where it should be.
- Tiny jeans test: They are a perfect fit and I’m wearing them now.
- Karrimore lime shorts test: Nothing wrong with the way these fit either. Am packing them in my gym bag.
- Pink blouse test: Still a bit small, nothing that can’t be rectified.
- Speedo bikini test: I cannot wait to try on the Speedo bikini. It is at the gym. Where I wish I was. You can bet I am going to try on that bad boy as soon as I can get to it.
You know what I think has triggered this eventual success? The wasteland of celibacy known as The Hills Are Alive, our themed season of clean living that is scheduled to end in a couple of weeks. I haven’t dated for nearly three months and without that distraction, there was nothing to stop me from going to the gym, night after night, weekend after weekend. I hoped that The Hills Are Alive would have a good effect on my waistline, but this is a better result than I dared to hope for.
Shall we dance?
Take care of all those charms and you’ll always be in someone’s arms. Keep young and beautiful if you want to be loved.
Abe Lyman: Keep Young and Beautiful (1933)
The Honcho says yes, he would like dancing, so that is why I am taking my fat, lazy arse to the gym this evening instead of doing what I would prefer to do which is sit around eating jelly and yogurt and doing some more work or even playing World of Warcraft. How much do you want to bet that Disraeli is using the same logic and doing the same thing. Whatever works, people, whatever works. We slimmers need all the help we can get.
Right then. Better pack my bag.
I might not have made it to the gym for breakfast, but I made it in time for a late lunch. In line with The Method and also because it happens to be true, I told Delroy that I am never, ever going to have sex with him. Then I told him ‘I am not going to touch you because you are perfect just the way you are. There is nothing I can do for you. You are so beautiful. I think God sent you to make the world a more beautiful place. Every day that I see you is a day that the sun shines’. We stood there for a second and stroked each other’s arms and held hands. Later, he brought me a chicken salad.
46 lengths of the pool. 1 Health point.
Go to the gym. Get on the treadmill, set it to an incredibly slow pace of about 4km/h and a steep incline to compensate. For one hour, climb the treadmill and totally rock out in an obvious way to Super Cat’s album Don Dada (1992) and not even care if people are staring. Then go for a swim (thirty lengths). 2 Health points.
And now, everybody, you know what time it is. Get up out of your seat right now and dance with me. This is such an utterly gorgeous and danceable little number that I almost saved it for church on Sunday but I simply can’t resist, so here it is.
Super Cat ft. Heavy D and Frankie Paul: Big and Ready
- Talk to your current main dating prospect on Skype (text only) and cut off the conversation after exactly 55 minutes, citing work.
- Tell him there will be another real life date when you say so and not before, and it is not yet. Don’t listen to reason. Reassure him that you will keep talking to each other.
- Check in with the Honcho.
- Take somebody else out to lunch. During the date, apply The Method. Observe that it causes him to get on his knees in a clothes shop.
I know, I know. I’m going to the gym now. The hills are alive.
It was an action packed day yesterday.
Went to the gym, managed 30 lengths of the pool which again is not brilliant but better than nothing. That is the last time I will attempt to use the pool at 5pm, the whole place was absolutely swarming with mums and kids. They closed off three whole lanes for children’s swimming lessons, the ‘I’m not a serious swimmer’ area of the pool was rammed with mums and even more kids and this left just one lane for the people who wanted to actually, you know, swim, as opposed to babysitting and messing about with inflatable water wings. One lane. For all the swimmers, at all speeds. At one point, five of us were attempting to use this one lane. Terrible. I don’t even like children all that much. I will go to the outdoor pool if that happens again. There won’t be hordes of children out there in the middle of January. Anyway, 1 Health point.
Later, went to visit my friend Cm. Lovely to see her. Met her boyfriend. He was okay. He seems strangely naive for a 38-year-old but I am hardly in a position to criticise other people for having naive boyfriends, when my ideal age range is somewhere between 22 and 28. 1 Friends point.
When I arrived home, there was email from Disraeli. He has fallen hard. The words he uses to describe our relationship, on the strength of two dates, if you please, are ‘monumental’ and ‘life-changing’. Impressed? I was impressed with myself for a minute. But I am only doing for him what the Honcho did for me. I wasn’t born knowing how to elicit this reaction, not that strong a reaction, certainly. All of my new-found interactional skills, which I am properly and thoroughly applying for the first time in this relationship, were learned at the feet of the big boss and I credit my sensei with my success. If you want to know some of the Honcho’s secrets, they include ‘don’t talk on the phone, ever’, ‘no sex for at least 3 months’, ‘don’t get drawn into negotiating’ and ‘resist the urge to be sympathetic’. These are actual things, it turns out. It wasn’t just me losing my mind. It was a systematic plan that he was implementing on purpose. I learned exactly how much of his seemingly insane and abnormal behaviour was systematically implemented just recently when I flattered him into giving me tips. If the Honcho had thought I needed to lose 15 pounds he would have told me to take care of the situation immediately and not even felt a twinge of sympathy or a moment’s doubt about my ability to do it. Disraeli said ‘nobody has ever treated me like this’ and believe me, I know exactly what he meant.
In fact it was a little bit frightening. But they fought with expert timing.
Carl Douglas: Kung Fu Fighting