Cheesecake.

My dietary exploits are challenged by the continuing presence of cheesecake in this world.

 

Nom nom nom!

 

Tomorrow is weigh-in day, and this week has been a shocker. I had originally hoped to lose 800 grams this week to bring me down to my first goal loss of 5kg, but after this weekends terrible efforts it is not looking good.

I did have a good week exercise wise. Four days at the gym last week with various amounts of weights, and a consistent 30 minutes of torturous cardio on the cross trainer. Today I even managed to slog it out in the stuffy confines of the women’s gym in 29 degree heat without succumbing to the temptation to turn the fan on to cool down. I was drenched and sore and it felt amazing.

However, over the weekend I have a massive blow out diet wise. It started with not one, but THREE slices of pavlova on Saturday. I will blame my Aunt Zoe, she brought the damn thing to our house. She did not hold me down and force me to eat it, but she may as well have. Then last night I had fish and chips for dinner, nom nom. And tonight I went out for dinner with the lovely Clarissa and had a gigantic serve of calamari, chips and salad, washed down with coke, followed by a slice of chocolate cheesecake (to share!) and hot chocolate. Unghhhhh. So much fried-ness and sugar-ness.

Definitely not good for my waistline. All I can hope for is a maintenance for this week, but even the possibility of that is looking slim. Ahh slim. Something my arse will never be at this rate.

Still, there is always the week ahead!

Meanwhile, I will dream of more cheesecake.

xx

Pavlova and PMS.

So today was my birthday.

Pretty uneventful as far as birthdays go. A friend was going away this weekend, so I went out with my friends last weekend, for drinks and bowling. It was fun, but I so hate the focus of an event being on me.

Today I went to Maribyrnong Maker’s Market with Mum. We have always wanted to go, and it is only on three Sundays a year, so off we trotted. Nice stuff, but so, I dunno, Yarraville yuppy parents. The clothes were not my style, and the jewellery, while nice, was expensive and kind of boring. The only stuff that caught my eye were homemade soaps that smelt so good I could have eaten them, and old-fashioned toys. All in all, slightly disappointing.

Moving on to lunchtime, and my Great Aunt Zoe came over. She is about 86 years old, very crazy, and puts every birthday person on edge. She is the bearer of gifts, more commonly known as the infamous ‘squishy packages’. She ALWAYS buys you clothes, that are pretty much exclusively ugly, at least four sizes two big, and in us girls case, from Millers. She delivered, right on cue. A boooootiful baby shit brown puffer jacket in a size 40 billion. Thank god she gave me the receipt. I know I sound ungrateful, but as my Nanna said when I told her about it on the phone, Great Aunt Zoe has been giving squishy packages since my Uncle Matt was born 57 years ago, and they have never been any good. I guess you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. She did bring a gigantic store bought pavlova smothered with cream and strawberries, and while it was nowhere in the league of my favorite aunt, Aunty Val’s homemade pavlova with coffee cream and peppermint crisp, it was sufficiently sweet and delicious to force me to scoff down two huge slices. It’s my birthday, alright! I am allowed to be a pig!

So now I am just sitting around writing an assignment. What a way to spend your birthday!

Oh and I would like to send out some special thankyou’s to my old friends, Mother Nature and Father Time. Thankyou Mother Nature for waking me up at 7am with every woman’s favourite time of the month. I just love PMSing like a crazy bitch all day on my birthday. And thankyou Father Time for making that lunch the longest feat of endurance known to mankind. Greatly appreciative of both of your efforts, totally top-notch.

So thank god that is all over for another year. Except Christmas is in the middle. Don’t even get me started…

xx