Fat Day

I am having such a fat day that I feel like blob with legs and arms. In fact I am like one muffin top with a mouth.
Argh. My jeans that fitted yesterday seem to have shrunk overnight. I was yanking and pulling and jumping and huffing and puffing and heaving myself into these jeans and finally managed to close the button. My neighbours must have thought I was having the most amazing sex ever.
If only they knew. LOL.

WTF is going on? Ok, so Special K my amazing mate who has a body to die for and is a fitness guru has very kindly taken me under her wing.
Yes, I lost 10kgs last year. However, I cannot seem to shake the last 10kgs and the thought of having to do this all again is just exhausting. See, I don't function like normal human beings. Normal human beings would be so chuffed and motivated that they had lost 10kgs that they would continue on the journey to lose the last 10kgs. Normal human beings would look at it like: I lost 10kgs, I can do it all over again.
I, on the other hand, am clearly not normal.
I am on a strict, clean eating plan and exercise plan.

I have the worst sinus so gym has fallen by the way side for the time being, which is frustrating me to no ends. I actually want to train. I've been told it's an 80-20 ratio. 80% eating and 20% exercise, so I figured that while I can't exercise I can at least get the 80% right. I have been eating all the right things, cut out fizzy drinks and crisps (my vices) and really thought that by 2 weeks I would feel and see a difference.
Nope.
Perhaps its because I'm as bloated as a ...I'm not actually sure what...
It's PMS, if you know what I'm saying.
It's lack of endorphines from the lack of gyming.

I've had it. I'm hoping tomorrow will be a gorgeous, skinny, fabulous day and if not. I'm going back to bed.

Fat and Lazy weekend

I feel like a beached whale at the moment. I'm sure it's all in my head, but seriously. I feel fat.
I haven't set foot in the gym in over 3 weeks. I went to Knysna and obviously the cute idea that I had of running on the beach every morning was laughable. Then I returned back to Joburg in a mini skirt and slops...that was like landing in the Antarctic dressed for Mauritius. It resulted in a change of weather cold that came to bite me in the nasal passages last week, so no gym for me either. This week I still haven't felt hundreds and have had early meetings every morning which has messed up any routine Sugar and I enjoyed. The worrying factor is that the longer you stay away from gym; the easier it is to get into that routine. Oh no. Having a new man is motivation actually. No one wants to see jiggly bits or dimples in the wrong places.
Seriously. Monday morning is going to be my new start... I'm going to get focused and sweat my ass/tummy off. Literally.
Oh and the colder it gets, the further away I am from choosing a salad for lunch. Bring me hot chocolate, warm stews and warm comfort food. This is really not helping.

It's the weekend and I have no plans. It's weird actually. I know what I'm doing on Sunday morning...I'm working. I know that tomorrow I am going to visit Blondie 2...she went in for an operation so I'm going to bring her flowers and sit with her while the painkillers set in.
Poor thing.
Other than that, however, I have nothing on. It's really nice actually.

I hope you have a brilliant weekend.
xx

I'm PHAT!

I had one of the best weekends. I'd like to say that I partied it up VIP style until I pissed champagne, but instead I didn't move. Ok wait, I did but only for three reasons.
1. To go to the loo.

2. To go to the fridge.

3. To collect deliveries of health food.

I was exhausted on Friday - well, you read below so I got home and chilled. I watched TV and finally dragged myself to bed. On Saturday morning, I showered and instead of getting dressed, I got back into my pajamas. I can't remember the last time I did that!
I didn't get out of my pajama's until Sunday evening, when I showered and then put a new pair on. Lovely. I literally sat on the couch, alternating between writing on my laptop and watching the idiot box I lovingly call the TV.
Honestly, it was just the best. No make-up, no hair products and pure laziness. God it felt good.

I received an email from a pseudonym [of course] and it hit a nerve. It really, really did. I probably shouldn't be sharing this (considering that some of you know who I am) but I have had it and my blog is my place to vent. I just need to get this out!

The email basically says (in a nutshell - because it's a few paragraphs) that they can't understand how I'm in the industry I'm in when I am not "fat" but chubby. I'm not a good role model to women who want to get into this industry and blah blah blah blah.
{It did go on to say that they love my work and that they think I'm a natural talent etc...
Um...Thank you for the backhanded compliment then .}

I am fucking hurt. I should just shrug it off, have a good laugh (maybe a little cry) and then go about my merry way.

Let me set the record straight.

I have been diagnosed with sugar intolerance. I am border line diabetic and am doing my best to not become diabetic. Basically my body doesn't know what to do with sugar and instead of turning it into energy, it turns it into fat. I am left feeling lethargic and I'm left gaining weight.
I am not obese. I am just not your skinny size 0 and quite frankly I would never want to be.

Yes. I am in an industry that is image conscience. Um...I've been in it for a few years now so that would make me well aware. I am in this industry because I love entertaining. I cannot begin to explain how much I love what I do and I can't imagine doing anything outside of the industry. I get so excited to go in, do a good job and see how I can improve myself every.single.day!
The fact that it puts me in the public is rather overwhelming for me and I don't really understand it. My man once summed it up beautifully: "This is not Hollywood. We don't have celebrities, but we do have public profiles whether you/we like it or not."

A role model? No pressure. Don't you think a role model would be someone healthy, who has goals and is hard working and ambitious? I don't quite understand...are you saying that I'm not a role model because I'm not stick thin? Well in that case. Thank God!
If you're going to use loaded words like "Role Model", well then, I'd rather be a role model for young women who want to make something of themselves regardless of how they look. I'd like young women to look at me and think: I, too can do it! I too, can dream and have those dreams come true and I don't have to look a certain way!

It is devastating to me because I have put on several kgs and I can't quite seem to fit into clothes I used to. I'm a woman and I am personally very sensitive to this. Ask one woman if weight has ever been a hang up. 99% of women have hang ups about their weight, even Heidi Klum.
Has it hurt my self esteem? Yes. Not drastically but I. am. human. Trust me, I'd love to be the size I was and I'm working at it. Weight gain is quick...weight loss takes effort and it takes time if you want it to be healthy and stay off.
It's not great hanging around skinny girls at these functions feeling like a frump, but I'll never let my weight define who I am as a person.

I am irritated that I have never had to watch what I eat...perhaps to my detriment later on in life considering I have been diagnosed with this condition; and now I am having to. I am not used to having to make a concerted effort watching what I put in my mouth and it has been a bit of a shock. I struggle with it and it is a constant battle considering that I could be the President of the Sweet Tooth Society. No more sweets, chocolate, sugar, bread and so on...

Am I making an effort though? Hell yes! I want to be healthy and I want to do my best to prevent diabetes.
I am working my ass off in gym (boxing) and I am starting pilates/yoga.

I don't need to explain myself (after all of this) but I have had it. I'm tired of being called a Blob by tabloids. Fuck off. I am a person who has feelings.
Quite frankly this email has been the most judgemental, uneducated email I have probably ever received. It hurt me to the core.
I didn't respond. In these cases: "The best response is no response" - more advice from my man

This is a stupid post but it has made me feel better. I'll probably delete it tomorrow afternoon.

Oh and I've lost 4kgs so far, so bite me!

Ze French have a way with words....

So, seen any aliens? Today was D-Day. Will Smith didn't need to be on alert,after all!
Well... What a fucking day.

I was asked to be in a fashion show today for charity. I am not a model. I am not size zero and I am doing this for fun with other profiles. Some are top models and others that are TV personalities, radio presenters etc.
Right. So. The organiser of the show, who happens to be a friend of mine, asked for my dress size.
I told him and he looked at me like I was crazy.
"Honey! You are hardly that size! Look at all the weight you've lost!"
"Flattery babe, thank you, but I know my body. Even though I've lost weight, I've lost no weight in my boobs (thank God) and my back bones/ribs can't lose weight and I've always had a broad back. I know my size hun!"
I arrive at the rehearsal and dress fitting last night, to find that he has organised dresses (they're beautiful and expensive designer dresses) that are 3 sizes too small.
As a result, I had to organise with the boutiques and designers to get new dresses tomorrow morning (the day of the show...which is today. Keep up.) Not my job and a little annoying, but he's a friend and I don't mind. All that much.
Oh and this is awesome, I am standing with Miss South Africa and other celeby models who are trying on size 28 and 30 dresses.
"Oooh, it's too big. We'll have to pin it!"
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhh!! I can bearly fit the dresses over my head or above my knees. Kill me now.

I race off to the first designer (time is of the essence) and eventually find something that fits.
I then race off to the show, do the final rehearsal and then race to the final store before the actual show starts.
Mission and a half. I walk in with the dress that doesn't fit. It's a size 32. I go straight to the manager who actually happens to be the owner of the store. She's French. A FRENCH BITCH!
"Hi there, I need to change this dress for the Fashion Show happening in 2 hours time!"
"Oh, is ze model obese?"
"Excuse me? It's actually for me. I'm not a model, I'm one of the personalities modelling in it."
"But you are 'uge!"
"WHAT??"
"Zis is ze beegest dress we 'ave!"
"Well, I am hardly obese...I'm a normal woman who has curves."
"Well zis is a beeg size for ze French. You will stretch ze clothes."
"Right. You're in SA and I don't need you being bitchy, I just need a solution since I'm wearing your clothes in an hour! If you'd rather I don't, trust me, I'd be thrilled. I don't need to wear your lousy clothes anyway."
She sulked off and threw outfits into the change room while making sarcastic, bitchy comments to her shop assistant about getting Really, really, really BEEG sizes and "non, non, that vil never fit her...get her a beeger one."

Fuck, I'm so pissed off. I couldn't believe the nerve. I was actually more irritate with myself that I hadn't stood up for myself and bitch slapped her. I wish I wasn't such a walk over, but it was literally one of those: Could've; should've; would've scenarios.

I finally found something and pushed my shoulders back, the boobs forward, sucked the tummy in and pasted a smile on my face and walked out there...no I "minced" out there for the world to see this Curvy REAL woman strutting her stuff down the catwalk.

I had fun, but dude.