Tag: vanity

The state of my life.

Right, well here we are at 7.30 in the morning. About time we had a news update, as my life lurches from one urgent decision to another.

WORK

  • There is plenty of it, so that’s good. Can’t complain about that. There is an abundant supply.
  • I think I’m about to get promoted at my day job, the Terminator invited me to a meeting about a business proposal that I wrote.
  • In my privately owned business, another new client has just come on board, just as I’ve wrapped up 3 projects for the last one.

LOVE

  • This person who I’m not supposed to be in love with. Things keep heating up, it is like a slow cooker. This person loves everything about me EXCEPT that I am absolutely shit at looking after my own health. This is not a minor consideration for them. It is going to be a deal-breaker, I can tell. This forces decisions in the areas of health and also beauty because vanity.

HEALTH, BEAUTY AND VANITY

  • FFS, I need to grow up.
  • Teeth. As you know, teeth and dentistry are a major part of my life, this is because I smoke more on than off. I reduce my mouth to a state of dereliction by smoking, and my dentist attempts to repair or disguise it with moderate success and considerable expense. My gums look like smoked bacon and I need to sort it out.
  • Smoking. See above. I have in fact reverted to being quite a heavy smoker and I need to quit now.
  • I am compensating for the destructive effects on my appearance in various ways. Don’t judge me.
    • Clothes. Everybody loves my wardrobe. I am one well-dressed smoker.
    • Botox. My new guy is great and half the price of my previous doctor, also great.
    • Liposuction. I am looking into this but also I’m doing a reasonably good job of not being fat and weigh 149 pounds this morning so it’s not desperately urgent.
    • Yesterday I went into a shop and took half my clothes off and a girl aged about 20 did things to me with a high-tech machine that goes ping, this is because I have discovered laser hair removal.

That’s where we are. I need to do some more work now and I need to figure out a way to work 80 hours/week without using smoking and coffee as a crutch.

Gloria’s Emergency Diet

It is no joke. I slightly freaked out when I realised I’d hit 160lbs. I ate far too much bread and cake and I don’t know what I was thinking and now I look like I could have a baby at any minute.

The reasons this matters is because I need to be able to fit into a dress by Tuesday because there’s a work event and they’ll most likely want to take photos of me. So here’s Gloria’s Emergency Diet, if you want to join in.

YES

  • Lean protein, no larger than the size of a deck of cards.
  • Green vegetables. Green ones, not sweetcorn, carrots, tomatoes or any of that nonsense, those bright colours will make you fat. Green only.

NO

  • Everything else, especially
  • Sugar
  • Caffeine (I thought I was going to die from caffeine withdrawal, I have probably done my general health a favour by cutting it out).
  • Salt

So that’s me. You don’t know much I would like a big, sugary latte with an extra shot.

I currently weigh 156.4 pounds so there you go, we are heading in the right direction. I am seriously thinking about getting liposuction on my fat gut because the rest of my body looks okay. I’m disproportionately apple-shaped. Apparently ‘Lunchtime Lipo’ is a thing now at several London clinics. I would rush there today but it will not solve my problems by Tuesday because it invariably causes swelling and you have to wait days for it to go down.

Vanity

It is New Year’s Day and in line with everyone else who is lucky enough to only have to worry about first world problems, I think I should pay much better attention to my health and finances and I can achieve this by:

  • quitting smoking (again)
  • going to the gym
  • losing 25lbs (I just got on the scales for the first time in months and I am 159 lbs)

These things are all very clear and obvious to me, as they would be to anyone with an ounce of common sense.

The difficult part is finding your motivation. No matter how hard I try to get excited about it, thoughts like ‘be generally healthier’ and ‘live longer’ (urgh) and ‘have more money’ do not compete very successfully with thoughts such as ‘I just want to sit down’ and ‘I need to fucking smoke, okay’ and so forth.

Even the likelihood of more painful dental work if I do not immediately quit smoking is not quite doing it for me. It’s just pain, I’m not sufficiently scared of it.

So, what is going to do it? Vanity, that’s what. I am vain, I have been fretting about my declining beauty lately and I am facing my 50th birthday in 2016. I don’t want to be fat and ugly and exhausted and have tobacco- and coffee-stained teeth on my birthday. I want to be slim and gorgeous and I want everyone to think I’m 39.

The big birthday is 8 months away so I have time to get in really good shape, and I can no longer use the excuse of work – work is looking better now, because I negotiated a better type of workload for the coming year.

So, here’s the plan, because I always need a plan, otherwise nothing gets done.

  1. Take down Xmas tree & decorations, freeing up space in the living room.
  2. Put full-length mirror back in the space where the tree was.
  3. Get ALL of my sportswear out of the bedroom and out of various cardboard boxes in the back room and try everything on in front of the mirror. Sort into three piles: (a) stuff that fits; (b) stuff that is a bit too small; (c) stuff that is way too small. There is not going to be a category of stuff that is too large.

I’ve always found the fit of clothing to be a reliable way of gauging what size I really am, in comparison to weighing myself (good over the long term but in the short term, a bit variable, with many unexplained mysteries) and looking at myself in the mirror without clothes on (whether I think I look fat or not is totally dependent on mood and unconnected to objective reality). Clothes don’t lie to me. I can either wear certain garments or else I can’t.

OK, I guess that’s all I need to say. I went to my gym yesterday (!!!!) to inspect the contents of my locker and I have swimming gear in there, which is good, and not much else, which is also good because it means all my workout gear is at home and available for easy trying-on purposes.

Goals by August:

  • Looking good in UK size 10 sports bikinis.
  • Weight: 134 lbs (down from 159).

Both totally do-able, have done this before. The second one, anyway. I got down to 133 lbs about two years ago or something and I probably looked better in bikinis than I thought.

HNY, loyal readers. Good luck with all your new-year plans.

Checking in.

Right then, let’s see where we are up to.

  • Happy pills. I am down to 10mg now. Light is at the end of the tunnel.
  • My head is clearer and my productivity is FINALLY improving. FINALLY.
  • I don’t have much appetite, which is good. I got on the scales and they said I’d lost 4 pounds!! I am not sure how much I believe this, as I am still not getting any exercise, but I am not complaining. I think I must be eating less, because I haven’t even touched that box of chocolates that Charlie bought me, and I tried to eat an ice-cream just now but became overwhelmed halfway through and put it back in the freezer, next to another one that I couldn’t finish the other day.

The Brownie Points project is going really well and I might keep it going after October.

It is making me do different things with my time, I’ve done a lot of drawing (1 Art point) and quite a bit of reading since the project began, and have spent 0 time playing video games. I also realised that I can extend Brownie Points to include American Scout badges, here are the Girl Scout badges, there are a lot. There is Hiking (you know how I like my long walks), Household DIY (which I desperately need to get on with and had to stop because the pills robbed me of energy), several types of Finance and Athletics, and a few that I would never have thought of, such as Inventing (lol!!) and something called Night Owl, which I am sure I can creatively re-imagine as something that requires me to stay out all night. Would be fun, wouldn’t it.

I am happy to report that my freshly-bleached teeth are not hurting at all and I am obsessively brushing them for fear of stains, which I have to regard as a good thing. It’s not like I would normally run for my toothbrush every time I put something in my mouth.

Right, I must be going, it’s 11pm already and I think I just have time for a bit more drawing before I go to bed.

Hairdressing: Wish me luck.

I called in at the hair salon and they can fit me in this evening.

Wish me luck. Last time I was at the salon, in June, my formerly loved hairdresser gave me a haircut that aged me by 10 years and sent me fucking running to the Botox clinic to try and claim those years back. A haircut that makes me feel depressed just thinking about it, never mind having to look in the mirror. A haircut that belongs on a woman who is actively trying to be unattractive. A haircut that looks awful no matter what I do with it. A haircut that is significantly less fashionable than the one I saw my 70-year-old aunt wearing the other week. A really, really inappropriate and wrong and bad haircut that I never asked for.

My hairdresser and I will be having a Very Serious Conversation about the haircut I actually want. It is still 4-6 inches too short to even achieve a very short bob, but at least we can start working on getting it into shape.

I swear to God, if he fucks this up a second time, I will never go there again. I will go straight to a competitor salon and have them attach an entire head full of extensions at whatever cost, until my hair grows back. I can’t live with this awful haircut any more. It has got to go. He is getting one more chance to demonstrate that he understands what I want, and then that is it. Finito.

I am scared of letting him come near me with the scissors now and I am ready to be upset. The last couple of months have wrecked my self-confidence. Wish me luck, please. It should be game over by about 7pm. I will immediately report in here with news.

 

Art and Beauty

Life is gradually improving. We are still on Week 1 of the new, higher dose of happy pills and apparently I can expect it to take 6-8 weeks again for this new dose to achieve its full effect. Therefore, if this yields a good result I should be back on the dancefloor with a vengeance around the first half of October.

Yesterday I went to the British Library, which was super. Check out this fabulous statue of Isaac Newton by Eduardo Paolozzi.

IMG_3005

This is what the exterior of the British Library looks like.

IMG_3012

The spires of the St Pancras Renaissance Hotel appear over the library roof.

IMG_3008

Inside the library there are several floors of reading rooms which are full of priceless, ancient manuscripts. The building is dominated by this central tower, which is called The King’s Tower, because it houses the books of King George III, who founded a precursor to the British Library back in the 18th century.

IMG_3020

IMG_3016

While I was there, I went to see the Comics Unmasked exhibition.

IMG_3009

My favourite periods for just about anything are the mid 18th century and then the 1970s, including cartoons and comics, as it turns out.

Plate 2 of The Harlot’s Progress by William Hogarth, 1732. The Harlot’s Progress is a series of six engravings that tell the story of Moll Hackabout’s decline and fall into moral turpitude. In Plate 2, prior to entering into prostitution, she is the mistress of a wealthy merchant. She is kicking the table over to draw his attention away from a rival lover of hers who is discreetly escaping out the door.

hogarth

And now a couple of hilarious comic book covers from the 1970s. I was a child in the 70s and this is what Britain was like. As you can see, not that much had changed since the 18th century.

Truly Amazing Love Stories, 1977. “Forty-four pages of crotch ticklin tales.”

amazing love stories

Dope Fiend Funnies, 1974

dope fiend

In the latest beauty news, I went to see my Botox doctor for a check-up and top-up. I showed her some photos of me from July, in which I look utterly defeated and have the sagging, almost-dead eyes of an ancient turtle that has experienced abuse. Then I showed her some photos of me that I took a couple of days ago when I was putting on make-up ahead of going on a date, in which I look like a princess and totally unrecognisable as the same person. Then I gave her a thank-you card with a heartfelt message. Then I wept, right there in her office, out of gratitude. I can’t believe what she’s done for my face. I am overwhelmed with the results. I thought was I was never going to look pretty again after being beaten so badly around the face and head in the awful Crime of earlier this year. It is like a miracle. It is better than when I had new teeth and that is really saying something.

It is my birthday this week and I decided to celebrate it today so after I left the office of the Supreme Goddess of Beauty I went to Top Shop and had my ears re-pierced. I haven’t worn earrings in 15 years and the holes had all but closed up. I suddenly felt that what I wanted for my birthday was to be able to wear earrings again. Right now there are two sparkly crystals in my ears. I feel reconnected with my own, relatively gorgeous, past and at the same time I can see into the future, and it is a future with earrings in it. The holes will have healed in about a month and then I can really have fun.

I feel happy because I feel pretty. My other birthday present to myself was new hi-tech moisturiser, so that the lower half of my face can keep pace with the newly rejuvenated upper half and finally I am due a haircut this week, which I’ve been waiting for, so we can at least begin styling it into a shape that I actually want.

I am speaking at a large business conference in France in a couple of weeks. I will be the only woman on a panel of men. I am going to wow everyone with my beauty and glamour as well as my expertise, if I can find my passport, that is.

1 Art point. I think this means I’m officially not depressed any more.

Unexpected Bursts of Romance

It is Week 7, day 7 of the happy pills. I am slowly and incrementally happier, day by day. I will know I have achieved my Recommended Daily Allowance of happiness when I start dancing again. We are not there yet, but I sense that we are not far off.

I am absolutely overjoyed with the results of my encounter with Botox. It was 7 days ago. At the time, the doctor informed me that it would take a week to achieve its full effects. I didn’t really understand why, so I was sceptical, but I look in the mirror every day, here we are on Day 7 and it is amazing. It is beyond anything I could have hoped for. What I hoped for was an eyebrow lift that would restore the arches to their former glory, and this happened quickly, within a couple of days, but what we have here on Day 7 is an upper eyelid lift as well. Because I’m quite old, I had got to the point where my upper eyelid was collapsing on top of my lower lid, and I thought this was something that couldn’t be rectified without surgery, but as of yesterday my eyelids are right back where they used to be 10 years ago, and I don’t look a day over 35. It is like a miracle. It even makes my haircut look better. Speaking of which, it’s time to see my hairdresser because roots.

Perhaps coincidentally and perhaps not, in light of my renewed confidence, I am suddenly having a very rewarding dating season. I am getting a lot of interest on the trusty dating site, which is always flattering, and there are two guys in particular who I’m happy to have in my life. One is William, who I’ve blogged about a few times recently. He was quiet for a couple of days and I wondered if he’d changed his mind but then he texted me and now it looks like we will have our third date this week. I am excited about this because I have quite a crush on him, also in the fickle world of online dating, if someone makes it to three dates, that’s very unusual and is a long relationship.

Additionally, he has a rival. There’s another guy, a Northern lad, let’s call him Charlie. He’s 28. I like a bit of Northern urban grit. We understand each other’s roots and culture. We’ve had two dates and I am getting to like him more than I expected. I could see how we could settle down into a comfortable thing together with absolutely no difficulty at all that involves joking around and saying Northern things and watching horror movies and having sex. In fact, that is pretty much the plan.

So that’s me. I am happy and I am well provided-for. Thank you Jah.

Iggy Azalea: Fancy (2014)