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LaBelle of the Ball
Right. I don't know why that was the last straw, but it was. I'm too sick and tired of everything in my life. I'm particularly sick and tired of apparently not being able to say what I want in my own blog. Point 5 on the LiveJournal homepage is to "Be yourself.". But you can't can you, because you have to censor everything you say in case someone gets offended by the slightest remark.

I'm sick and tired of having too much in my life, when I want to keep it simple.

Bye.
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Jaysus, can nobody take a joke round here anymore? Absolutely f#cking pointless being here at all.
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1. Women drivers never allow you across a road. They certainly don't acknowledge your presence, let alone thank you, when you've had to give way to them when you shouldn't have had to.

2. Women who don't look where they're going, distracted by noises and lights and their reflections, who accidentally smash into you.

3. Women who perceive you as some sort of evolutionary threat, sneer at you like you're dog dirt, then purposefully smash into you.

4. It both saddens and annoys me that so many women of today are so sartorially-challenged, they even have to wear their jeans and clinging jersey winter uniform during the height of summer. Aren't they hot, goddamnit? Otherwise a tiny skirt and a cheap orange fake tan. Which is their other winter uniform as well, of course.

I think you'll agree this makes women altogether evil.

But not as evil as complete strangers bandying about my ladylumps as a topic of conversation on an interwebnet political blog read by thousands.
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Oh dear. Today will become known as the day I was soooooooo busy and soooooooooo stressed out by the constant work and interruptions and covering a billion other people's jobs and people not realising quite how much I was having to do, I cried at work. Bah.
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Confrontation on another's behalf I can do, because ultimately it's not my life. Confrontation against a neighbour is horrible, because the consequences can be worse than the original complaint. NOT looking forward to this evening. But the sleeping pills are running out. I just hope she doesn't take it the wrong way and start creating more noise for the hell of it. Either way, we're effectively asking her to spend hundreds and hundreds of pounds to fix the noise problem over our bedroom. For a girl who spends all year round in shorts, I suspect she doesn't have the dosh.

***

My boss is back from 2 weeks at the World Cup. He has brought me back a cup from the World Cup, with a picture of the World Cup on it. My brain is getting confused. I hate this bit of the World Cup though, the bit without football for DAYS on end.

***

Today I am expecting to be very busy. And the rest of the week. But at least it's sunny and hot. Blueberries and greek yoghurt for breakfast; grapes, strawberries, bread and cheese for lunch with afters of a hunk of top notch chocolate; tofu light stir fry for dinner. So much better than winter food.
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Christ that Rococo chocolate is good. As is the other 70% belgian stuff I bought.

See? I can eat all this chocolate (well, about the equivalent size of 2 chunks of dairy milk), cake (well, a small sliver here and there), cheese (well, small hunks), honey (well, a drizzle on my blueberries and greek yoghurt) and cream (well ALL OVER my strawberries until they're positively DROWNING in cream - heh), and yet today is the first day I have worn a pair of trousers, with a top that doesn't cover my tummy and without a hip belt to cover it either. Because my stomach isn't there anymore! I only walk 3 miles a day now instead of 5, I only work out 3-4 times a week instead of 5-6, and yet I'm slimmer and more toned.

Magic? No, just common sense. If only I could have had this relationship with food when I was younger. Why didn't anyone teach me the word "moderation"? I'd have lived happily the past 15 years instead of in constant fear of food. Not that I'm entirely 'fixed' yet - I am still terrified of foods I've never tried before. Andrew tried to make me eat melon the other day; I trembled and shook and put my lips round it and instantly spat it out. I'm just too scared to try. Another thing I intend to fix - I've learnt to eat blueberries recently after all.

Also, if anyone's interested, I have learnt moderation in alcohol. 1 glass of red wine a day. Occasionally I have attempted a 2nd, but only rarely finished it.

Anyway, despite being slightly nervous about the no-belt action today, this is quite a milestone for me. In your face, mental Fi!
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In the spirit of the happiest day of the year, I can indeed confirm that I am full of happiness. The sun's out (and I'm in an optician's), I'm feeling good about myself, I'm looking forward to my home-made cous cous salad for lunch and some chocolate, and the weekend is a-coming. Woo-woo!
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So. The Pros and Cons of this Martini Diet, after 1 1/2 weeks.

Pros

1. It is very easy to follow. Eat only the best food, but in smaller portions, and only at mealtimes. Simple.
2. Variety. I've always felt restricted on other diets - you can't eat such-and-such. And with my general fear of trying new food, I'd be stuck with 3 recipes to live on. Half-hearted attempts that made me wish I could be eating ice cream instead. So I would. I can eat anything I want on this diet, and despite my latent fears of new foods, I've even been experimenting.
3. Loving food. Eating the best food makes me appreciate food a whole lot more. Rather than eating to live and feeling guilty for every bite, I enjoy the smells and tastes and all the sensations of buying, preparing and eating food. Anyone smelt the organic strawberries in Waitrose? Do. They're heavenly.
4. No guilt. At all. Because whereas I'm eating chocolate and butter and bread and eggs and cream and all manner of foods I'd run from screaming in the past, I'm only eating a little. It feels like a treat every mealtime.
5. I don't even have to exercise every day. No more daily woes and gym angst. Sometimes I exercise every day if I want to, but I can skip it for 2 days. If I want to eat a small amount of sticky fruit tart with ice cream, I'll make sure I work out that particular day. Again, no guilt. I'm even thinking of new forms of exercise other than walking and aerobics - horse riding, ice skating, salsa classes...
6. This means I enjoy exercise again.
7. All this quality in small quantities means I've suddenly found it easy to stick to 1 glass of red wine a day. All the health benefits and none of the badness.
8. My skin is clearing up.
9. I feel 'brighter'.
And 10. I am thinner than I've ever been since putting weight on after being mad. I've lost weight and toned up and feel so much better about how I look. More so than when I was only eating fruit and veg and exercising 2 hours every day. And that means this diet actually works.


Cons

1. Only 1. And it may be stress and exam/job-related rather than dietary anyway. But I'm feeling very tired this past week. Maybe because I'm eating less food.


Right then, I'd really recommend it.
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Wicked! After moaning about how I don't have time off for the Italy match, someone kindly brings a radio into my office. Squeeeeeeeee!
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Since it's a week for controversial posts, I'll start one.

I'm looking for a new fake tan. I can't decide between Clarins (instant gel and hydrating face gel) or Estee Lauder (either Supertan or Go Bronze). What do you use (if you do), and would you recommend it?
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wardytron and I have spent many months in debate over what we are going to call our 2nd whippet doggykins. We liked Oscar because it sounds cheeky and fun, but unusual and ever-so-slightly posh. Also, it shortens to Oz, and both are great to shout over Hove Lawns.

I thought we might continue the literary theme, with a name that also sounds cheeky and fun, but unusual and ever-so-slightly posh. It can be a literary forename or surname so long as it works. It cannot sound like Oscar. It must shorten to something equally cheeky (like Oz) but not sound similar so as to confuse doggies. And doggies are easily confused.

My sole thought at the moment is Huxley, but maybe you can help. Suggestions please!

Poll #753563 Doggy names

What shall I call doggy no.2?

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Nothing is keeping me sufficiently entertained. I brought some revision to work, but I don't have the will to stare at such BORING WORDS. Personal injury pre-action protocols and wasted costs orders and ... and ...*snore*.

Today I have been a bad mother, and I wonder if Oscar ever gets unhappy.
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I haven't really done much work here today. But that's ok - it's nice to have a quiet day once in a while. That's not to say that all the files in the world won't be piled onto my desk at 4:30.

In fact, I've spent my day working out what I need to take on holiday, and what outfits I'm going to wear each day and evening. Yes, even though it's still 2 1/2 months away. It's nice spending a whole day thinking about your holiday. A whole week in Limone on Lake Garda. Yum.

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My boss made his wife a World Cup widow and his children World Cup orphans long before the World Cup started. Day after day, night after night, he'd be at his computer, clicking Refresh on the tickets page because, at odd times like 11:19 pm, tickets would suddenly become available, but only for about 2 minutes.

Such is the way with Tom Ford's collection of extremely limited edition make-up for Estee Lauder. Permanently sold out in the couple of shops and website it was available on, rumours were abound that another small run was being done. In half an hour between refreshes it had become available online, and most items had sold out again already. So in I went with credit card aloft, for 2 eye duos, 2 lipsticks and an SPF lip conditioner. I also have my eye on the face glow that someone is selling on ebay.

I absolutely love buying make-up, but it all depends on the packaging. I want packaging that looks and feels special, elegant, luxurious - golds and turquoises and colours that remind me of hot summer holidays in southern Italy. Even in winter. I want creamy lipsticks and silky eyeshadows. I love the way make-up can make you feel special without having to hold up a bank to pay for it, the way you can feel swathed in all-over luxury by wearing it with a £4.50 top from La Redoute and a pair of shoes for a fiver from ebay.

Hmmmm. I really want a proper straw sunhat now, and to whisk myself off to the Amalfi coast.
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Well I've identified my diet weakness. Free food. Everything went well on Saturday, but Sunday, at my parents...well out came the choux buns with cream and I was a goner. Back to being a good little girl today.
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Phew, a breather. It won't last.

My diet is still going swimmingly and easily. My lunch was french onion soup with cider, a slice of fresh bread with some Beppino Occelli Italian butter (expensive but worth it, yum) and a small slice each of Port Salut and Gorgonzola. Washed down with about one mouthful of Shiraz. Look! See! Yes! I can drink in moderation after all, it's just I can only do it with red wine. No more white, ginger wine, or anything 'gluggy'. And NEVER more than 2 glasses in a day - that way I never get drunk, I get good skin again, my body starts to restore itself, and I get the proven health benefits of drinking red wine. Actually, I sip so slowly that I struggle to finish one glass alone anyway. Still unlikely I will drink when out with people in pubs and stuff though, as the temptation to lose my self-restraint may be too much. What is about us lot that makes each other turn to drink?

This weekend I am going to Due South again, at last. We've been looking forward to this since...the last time we were there. It's the best restaurant I think I've ever been to (other than Ranieri's in Roma). Soup, followed by asparagus & lemon risotto, then either the cheese board with walnut bread or iced cappuccino parfait. With a bottle of Sangiovese 'Tiaso' or Chateau Fontareche. The only bummer about Due South is its often lack of vegetarian choice. The menu changes daily sometimes, at least weekly, depending on available fresh local produce, but sadly it seems the only fresh vegetable available in the past 2 months has been asparagus. And nobody wants asparagus for starter and main. But then who could say no to this view from your table. Maybe I'll leave some feedback and see if they can do something about it. Brighton is probably the vegetarian capital of the country after all.



EDIT: Feedback duly given!
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I am doing SIX people's jobs today. Stop f#cking phoning me, stop asking me to 'pop up' to your office to collect work and take work when I'm f#cking limping, stop putting all your phone calls through to me because you can't be f#cking bothered, stop telling me your stuff is urgent because I bet it's f#cking not and you'll just have to wait your turn and it's your own fault for sacking secretaries and allowing Legal Execs to procreate and putting people on part-time so you can F#CKING WELL WAIT IN LINE.
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I was about to say "help! there's cake in the kitchen!", but then I remembered I can have a bit, so long as it's only a couple of bites. Yum.

EDIT: The tiniest sliver - the kind you can see through. And I wasn't so keen on the sugary chocolateness (give me real dark chocolate, the kind that's so laden with cocoa solids it doesn't even melt in the mouth, any day). I'm on my way already to being a food snob!
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Yay - we get to leave work half an hour early! I was going to anyway of course, but at least we have permission.
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Wow! Even bigger thanks to puzzled_anwen. After 3 days of following this diet, not being mad, not drinking lots of booze, and eating stuff I'd usually run from (eggs, honey, oil, chocolate), my stomach has de-bloated and flattened a touch too, my clothes feel more comfortably my size again. It now seems so obvious that, although I may have been eating all the right foods, I was eating too much of them and too often. Doh!
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