L'anno prossimo ci andiamo? Magari con la Mastino! :D
Spring has finally arrived in my little speck of the world. The bees are buzzing, the birds are mating and every single last flower in my garden is producing enough pollen falling just short of sending me into anaphylactic shock. I am super allergic to pollen, grass, well pretty much everything related to spring. But allergies and animals having sexy time everywhere you look is not the only thing spring brings. Spring also brings a reality check. I, like most people I know, do tend to pack on some extra pounds during the winter months. And as we start shedding our winter jackets and sweaters revealing our lily white arms and legs which must see the sun in instalments, it also brings another revelation. And unfortunately for me my revelation was the fact that I have become fat!
The greater part of my Internet activity this past weekend was spent researching diets. You see, in just a few short months I need to be able to fit into my Speedo for our island holiday. Yes, you read correctly – my Speedo! I only wear it when I am not in South Africa and at places where there are people that I am sure I in all probability will never see again. During this winter I packed on a few extra unwanted pounds and to my horror discovered that I am starting to grow a second chin, a flabby gut and some god awful cellulite on my ass. It’s all very traumatising! And seeing as I have cancelled my gym subscription the only recourse I have left to my disposal is a diet. Either I go on a damn diet or make peace with the fact that I run the risk of looking like a beached whale in Madagascar in December.
Now, it should be noted that I have never been on a diet a day in my life. I don’t know how it works and prior to this I also didn’t really care either. But as I realized that a diet may be necessary, I consulted with my good old friend Google. There are millions of diets on the Internet ranging from well organized programs you can join with weekly weigh-ins (I don’t even own a scale by the way) to eating programs you can follow, some lasting only a couple of days and others lasting months. The more I read about diets the more it dawned on me that maybe it was not for me. I am far too lazy to measure out my food, pack three small lunches to take to work or having to go stand in my underwear on a scale in front of a bunch fat people only to be told I am fat too. My fragile self-esteem would be devastated.
Sure there are no fat evaporating fairies hiding in my summer closet, but diet – bitch please. I just can’t imagine myself having to stuff my face with shit that taste like cardboard, not eat carbs and having to swop my fizzy drink for bottled water. That’s like being a contestant on Survivor but without the million dollars. Furthermore, if I don’t eat potatoes at least 5 times a week the world will end. Not to mention having to swop my red meat with fish and/or skinless chicken, having to give up my gravies, sauces and other fattening condiments that I love so much. Oh my God, a diet will kill me!
For a brief two days I must admit I did ponder on the idea of bulimia. On the one side you can eat what you want and as much of it as you want. But on the down side you have to vomit and I hate vomiting. So I shut that idea down as it requires too much commitment and too much time spent in the toilet hurling. Anorexia was eliminated from the onset as an option for obvious reasons. So with half a cheesecake taunting me in my fridge, I sat down yesterday further contemplating my dwindling options. Clearly the diet thing was not going to work for me. Diets have too many rules, gets up in your business too much and have the distinct notion of starvation and supervision that is as unappealing to me as is the cellulite on my rear end. So what am I to do?
Having had Plastic Surgery earlier this year and still having my surgeon’s number on my speed dial, just a number higher than that of my Botox dispenser, I considered bypassing the whole starve yourself thing and fast forward to liposuction. Why starve yourself and munch on a salad that does not constitute a dinner (according to me) when you can have all that fat sucked out in less than an hour. The only problem with that is I cannot afford it! Damn you economy! Damn you! As my elation turned into a gluttonous cheesecake feeding frenzy, my extra pounds were weighing down more than just my flab. Rather disconsolate I walked to the mirror and gave myself a good stare down. The edges of my mouth still covered in crumbs of the cheesecake that was delicious I must say, I looked at myself and made a decision.
I have gained a few pounds over winter and the only reason I gained the weight was because of bad eating habits. Crisps is not food and neither is a snicker bar or chocolate milkshake. I made a choice the change my eating habits. And no, it will not be a diet but rather a conscious choice to eat healthier: More fruits and vegetables, less McDonalds and Kentucky Fried Chicken, less frying and more steaming and grilling. Whether my conscious decision to change my eating habits will see me shed those extra pounds, only time will tell. But one thing is for damn sure, I will not be on some fat ass diet.
Till next time.
Beer ~ The Miracle Diet Drink
In less than 25 days hubby and I will be leaving on a jet plane for New York City. I am so excited I can barely contain myself. NYC is one of the places on my bucket list that I want to see and experience before I die. Taking into consideration that we will only be in NYC for one week and with a gazillion things that we want to do, I suspect there will be a lot of caffeine consumed during that time and very little to no sleep to be had. I have downloaded several apps on my iPad especially for this trip ranging from where to eat to an app that helps you navigate the subway and other public transportation systems. I am not going to get lost in NYC and waste valuable time in a confused panic. This bitch is prepared for everything and I plan on squeezing every last drop of fun out of this experience even if it theoretically kills me.
Like most folks I know, I also have a bucket list and luckily for me there remain a lot of things on that list that I want to do. I guess it is like my secret insurance policy that I have that keeps me from dying young. As long as the list exists, the longer I have to remain on this earth burdening you all with my mind meanderings. I have done many things on my bucket list thus far, some out of choice and others not so much. I have been to Egypt, Madagascar, Kenya and Luxembourg. I have ridden Arabian horses next to the pyramids, dived with wild sea turtles, met Nelson Mandela, been on the news and even jumped out of an airplane in the dead of night screaming like a ten year old girl while I received training at the Army. Yes, contrary to popular believe I am butch like that.
Some things I have done that were on my bucket list, I can’t divulge on my blog seeing as family members and certain colleagues read it therefore it shall remain a secret. However, I can admit that I have also had sex on the beach once locally and twice internationally. I have been mauled by a tiger, I have played with lion cups, even handled an adult female leopard, fed giraffes and played with baby elephants. Most things that I have achieved on my bucket list brings a smile to my face, but then there are some things on my bucket list that I did not volunteer for and that I do not recall putting on it.
Life is always full of surprises and in my case life sometimes have a warped sense of humor, like that one time that I accidentally got high on liquid E. You see, hubby and I got invited to go and watch a drag show in Johannesburg. We were still in our twenties and it was a week night, but being young and irresponsible we went. Halfway through the show somebody bought us shooters and without thinking twice we downed it. It wasn’t long before I noticed a very weird sensation pulsating through my body. It felt like my nerve endings were tingling and I was getting Goosebumps.
After the show ended we decided to stay and dance and for some queer reason I felt like I loved the whole world and the whole world loved me. I was euphoric and in a hugging mood. We were having a gay old time until 2am the next morning. We were higher than Charlie Sheen in a Vegas hotel room and we didn’t even know it. Not even my quavering jaw or the grinding of my teeth alerted me that something was wrong. I was blissfully unaware that I was in fact tripping on E. It wasn’t until the drive home that hubby and I realized something was amiss. Arriving home at 3am and having to get up for work at 6am, still tripping our faces off wasn’t any fun. Needless to say we have never since accepted shooters from anyone at a bar, nightclub or restaurant ever again.
And then there was that time that I got crabs. It was before I met my husband and I was going through what you can call a “promiscuous phase”. I had just broken off a two year relationship and was making up for lost time. I vividly remember the evening I discovered that I had crabs. I was sitting on my bed and I was itching in the crotch area. I didn’t think much of it until I scratch and then felt something that shouldn’t be there. I took off my pants, picked this little thing up between my fingers and on closer inspection I saw it had feet and it was alive. Horrified, I searched my private area and discovered more. I was utterly shocked and distraught! “WHAT THE FUCK?!” I remember screaming. “There are things living on my balls!!!” Not knowing what to do, I phoned my friend. Crying I tried to explain to him the calamity I found in my pants “I think I might have crabs” to which he responded “You either have crabs or you don’t, there’s nothing like I might have, check your balls again!” So I did.
I had crabs and I needed to go to the doctor. Being 20, young and naïve I didn’t know that any old lice shampoo could sort me out so I had to embarrass myself even further. Sitting in the doctor’s office the next day, terribly ashamed of myself, I told him what I had. He wanted to examine the “affected area” but I rudely refused. Then he gave me a speech about STD’s and safe sex and then promptly had me tested for every STD known to mankind. It was a horrifying 5 day wait, but eventually I got called back to his office and told that I had no STD’s but that he hoped that I have learned my lesson. Since then every time my crotch area itches it reminds me that I once had a hundred unwelcome house guests attached to my balls and that I never wanted them to visit me ever again.
Not all things I have on my bucket list are always necessarily fun. Sometimes you have to experience certain unpleasant things and that is called the Bucket List Life has for you. Still on my personal bucket list is that I want to tour France, visit a non homophobic Russia, swim with wild dolphins, have my travel ban to Uganda uplifted, win the lottery and many more. But for now we are going to NYC, the city that never sleeps and I plan on painting the town pink. One week of unadulterated tourist fun is in my immediate future and I am ecstatic. I am sure when we are back that jetlag is going to be a bitch, but I don’t care – at least we have seen the Big Apple. NYC checked!
Till next time.