Salad and Gin.

So this week I have had a bet with my boyfriend. We are both absolutely terrible at sticking to diets. Anyone that knows us will say this. Every single day I say "I'm not eating any more shit" or "I am giving up wine, look at my tummy". It lasts for a day or two and then I cave and go back to the way I was. So this week we challenged each other not to eat any carbohydrates for the week, and see how we go. And because he had such little faith in me, he said that he would outlast me and I would cave first. Obviously I wasn't going to let him lose, so I took the challenge head on.

It was only when I accepted the challenge that I actually realised it was a VERY strict diet. I live on pasta and bread, so there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to find this difficult. There was only so much rabbit food (i.e lettuce) I could eat, and only so much water I could drink without getting bored. But nevertheless I have given it my best shot, and 4 days in, I am still carb free.

The boyfriend said that I would feel a lot better in myself, and be happier if I cut out all the shit from my life. And I hate to say this, but hes bloody right. I feel great in myself, and in such a good mood. Even hungover today (from gin I might add, no wine was involved as this would also count as a loss to the challenge), I am in a good mood. And that is a rarity in itself. So maybe this whole diet business is a good thing. And I feel so much better for it, it's made me ever more determined to carry on!

Watch this space.. I'll be stick thin in no time.

God Save the Queen, for a 4 day Bender...

Now, I'm not a royalist as such, I don't really pay attention to anything the Royal Family are doing, and I reguarly think that we are paying for the Queen to hire someone to wipe her royal arse, but I am a sucker for a 4 day bank holiday and an excuse to get royally merry for a good cause.

Whilst I didn't get the whole 4 days off, I took full advantage of this weekend, and drank until my liver couldn't take anymore. So much so that by the 5th day, my body got the shakes and was asking where the daily supply of wine was. I got so used to having a hang over during the day that I actually started to cope at work and just went about my daily business whilst feeling like I want to vom instead of being bed bound and moaning how ill I feel.

Sunday night I met a friend after work and played catch up whilst they were pissed and dancing to a beatles tribute band. After 5 squashed frogs, 2 raspberry vodkas, 5 apple sours and double vodkas and orange juices coming out of my ears I was happily dancing along to 'let it be' by Sir Paul McCartney (well, said friend thought it actually was him and tried hassling him for a photo, when I sensibly realised it was actually just an old man with a bullet wig), when they finished their set... So in true Super Sunday style we took bottles of wine to the beach and proceeded to drink down there until one of us passed out. All in all a good night, resulting in finding my boyfriend half naked 100 metres passed out from his house...

Who said the Royal Family were such duds? The excuse to party 4 days straight seems a pretty good idea to me! Cheers Queenie!