Sep

30

All that and I didn’t gain - Whoo-hoo!

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I weighed myself this morning and found I’d actually lost a quarter pound, instead of gaining the 2 or 3 I’d expected! The reason?

A great time was had as we pulled out all the stops for Neil’s dad’s 60th birthday. The Yorkshire Rose in Bracknell was the setting for a bottle of champagne, four starters, four absolutely exquisite meals, and four desserts. Along with David’s milestone birthday, Neil and I were celebrating involvement with Podshow and the rather exciting future ahead for us with that company.

It’s not often we splash out, in fact, I think this is the most expensive meal I’ve ever had, but 60th birthdays only happen once in a lifetime, and opportunities like Podshow don’t knock very often either.

What a fabulous evening. :D

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Sep

29

Talking cats. Yes, really.

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I’m not going to pretend I don’t think this is the coolest thing ever. I love cats. Now, I love talking cats.
Here’s the url if you aren’t able to watch the video here.

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Sep

28

comfort food and progress

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comfort food

This is my idea of comfort food. Fish fingers (US: fish sticks), American cheese, and mashed potatoes, on soft, buttered sandwich bread. I feel better already. :)
To update from my last post: I walked down to the local GP office and made a doctor appointment. The receptionist didn’t bite, didn’t ask why I needed a doctor, and didn’t flinch when I asked for the same doctor I saw last time I was there. Anxieties have temporarily subsided and I’m filled with comfort food.

I’m forcing myself to be productive on a couple of things. On my own this evening, and so I’m rocking out to a bunch of shit that sounds great surrounding me instead of in the confines of headphones. If you’re curious, remember I’m on last.fm. (Check my sidebar for the most recent handful of tracks if you don’t want to visit my last.fm page.)

If it sounds like I’m doing better, I am. The first scary step has been taken and I’ve gone from a sobbing low earlier today to a much brighter and nearly happy state. I’d call it stability. Stable is good.

Hot damn! that was a good sammich! Almost medicinal.

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Sep

28

I’m trying

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I’m trying to get up the courage to call the doctor.
I wish I didn’t feel this sort of semi-embarrassment that I feel about going to the GP regarding my brain.
I don’t want to tell him about it. I don’t want to give him the names and numbers of the mental health clinic that I saw in the US so he can obtain my records. I don’t want to admit to a person all of my mental health flaws and then get told to make an appointment with another doctor only to have to spill them all over again to another stranger. NHS protocol tells me that I go to a GP first, then, if the GP can’t fix what ails you, they send you to someone else. I understand this to be a fair and reasonable practise, but when it comes to mental health I just find it an embarrassing obstacle. I don’t like to admit to myself that my brain is flawed, let alone want to tell a gaggle of different doctors who don’t even know me about it. I’d rather parade naked in front of them all than divulge that I have something wrong inside my head and need help for it. I went through all this in the US. That was hard enough.

I wouldn’t get rid of my ADD, but I don’t like the impersonal nature of this process.

I think I’m stalling. I should pick up the phone.

I’m going to look the protocol for mental health issues and the NHS up online first. Maybe there is another way…

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Sep

27

Today, I got in touch with my inner lack of focus. Again.

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It’s almost 9 PM* and I just got out of a comfy bath. It was the contemplating kind — candle-lit, bubbles — just me and my thoughts. I’m cleaner, but more focused?
No, not really, but I do have a plan.

It’s been one of those days where nothing I do seems to take any steps forward. Nothing I do is fruitful. I realise this is a skewed opinion more than truth, as I did get a load of laundry done, put away the grocery delivery, got two meals prepared, two loads of dishes washed, and the bathroom tidied. That doesn’t sound bad now that I think back on it, but if I’m honest with myself, all of that is, at best, a half day worth of productivity. That’s not enough, especially when I have books I’m writing, a site I’m co-developing, an application that I’m designing the interface for, and a course with homework to do. Oh yeah, and there’s yoga, bike riding, and walking to manage as well. That’s not including my hobbies— photography and art. Music. Pleasure geeking… I don’t have an overwhelming number of things to do, but they are currently overwhelming nonetheless.
I’m going to stop there before the chasm of despair sends a taxi up to meet me rather than waiting for me to plunge in on my own.

In seriousness, I am back to considering pharmaceutical assistance for my ADD. I’ll go see a doctor. I dug out the old pill bottles to take with me. I noticed there are quite a few days worth left in one of the bottles. The pills are expired, but I’m not sure it can hurt me anymore than I’m injuring myself by pretending the monster isn’t really under my bed.
It is under there, and it’s getting louder.

Just as I miss the more slender and fit me from a couple of years ago, I also lament the clarity, productivity, and happiness I felt after finally allowing ADD to be real and not a stigmatised monster that I should just pretend doesn’t exist.

On the sunny side, today hasn’t been an all-out bad day. It’s been pretty level, but I’m at the dangerous junction of it all going sour on me if I don’t carefully manage my moods. I’m not invincible with or without ADD medication, but I am markedly more stable when I’m on it. I could use some stable right about now.

*It took me awhile to actually get this posted, hence the time stamp being later than 9.

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Sep

26

more time to get bikini fit again

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Holiday has been cancelled— for now.

We were due to leave for Lanzarote this Thursday but work commitments have sprung up and take priority over the unveiling of our pasty, mouse-jockey butts in a sunny locale. Neil’s involvement with Podshow has shifted to full-time employment and upcoming events require attending. It was mutually decided, so everything is perfectly fine.

Turns out, that though we use a timeshare exchange programme and the last-minute rearrangement of holidays is complicated, we won’t be stung too much for the shuffle. It actually works out that the substitution accommodations we’ve booked sound even more appealing— there’s an onsite scuba training centre that has caught my eye. It’s not the Canary Islands anymore, but from what I’ve seen on the travel channels, Madeira looks stunning.

So, the beach must wait for a bit, but that just gives me more time to whittle this voluptuous physique back down to the more lean and toned build that I unfortunately let slip. Things work out. It’s all good. :D

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Sep

25

dealing with the arrogance of celebrity chefs

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I just got one of my regular email newsletters from Tesco (the grocery chain I shop at most) and the headline is “Be inspired by healthy recipes from celebrity chefs.”*

This sort of campaign wouldn’t normally catch my eye, but lately, there has been a big ruckus going on surrounding lunches in UK schools. Celebrity chef Jamie Oliver (The Naked Chef) has had a really positive influence on getting school lunches to a truly healthy and fresh standard. Saying that, he’s been a bit harsh in how he refers to parents and their responsibility to feed their kids equally as well in the home. Some of the quotes have caused backlash to the point where there are actually mums going to fish and chip shops, buying a carload of deep-fried crap cuisine, and offering to kids on their lunch breaks. The mums I saw on the BBC News story actually thought they were doing the kids a positive service by dishing out grease soaked paper packages of chips. Stunning.

Back to the point. The connection I see between Jamie and my grocery newsletter is this: Jamie has been the commercial spokesperson for one of Tesco’s biggest competitors— Sainsburys. He’s done loads of TV ads, print campaigns, and appearances for them. Now he’s caused controversy with his personal school lunch mission and it is likely having a negative impact on his overall marketable appeal.

As the rows escalate, Tesco has quietly announced through my email newsletter that they too have celebrity chefs on hand. The difference is in the plural. Tesco isn’t relying on a single spokesperson to be their public face for healthy food, rather, relying on the combined strength and weaker individual presence of a gaggle of chefs. That’s smart and infinitely easier to control the PR issues.

I don’t know the names of that many celebrity chefs, but even a non-food TV watching schmuck like myself recognises that having Nigella Lawson on board is a good move. I also appreciate having the range of styles offered by several chefs rather than just one.

Jamie Oliver is a good chef and a fairly likeable personality — I gotta thank him for re-introducing me to frozen peas — but he should keep his campaigns under control. He’s gone for blood from the wrong group now— mums. There are subtle ways to get people to change their minds about what they should be eating, but badmouthing the demographic that watches your shows, buys your books, and uses your recipes is not the way I’d suggest.

Good job Tesco— though opinions of your stores vary widely, you’re still really good at being successful. I’m logged on to their site right now and about to see what the panel of chefs has to offer. I’m sure I’m not the only one doing that today.

*Actually, they misspelled ‘recipes’ by using ‘recipies,’ but I won’t nitpick. They got it right on the site.

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Sep

23

watch me jump out of my mitherfickin’ skin

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There really should be screens on the windows in this country.

I know, I know. The percentage of bugs and crawlies is too low to justify a complete shift in the manufacturing practices of UK home building, but still…

I just stepped stomped on a spider that, in a dimly lit room, looked big enough to be a mouse* and ran across the floor at least that fast.

I squealed and River Danced** till the confused intruder ran in enough of a predictable circle that I could stomp him.
It was big. In general, I don’t mind spiders. Don’t mistake this for some silly phobia. Not all spiders should die. Nope. Spiders are cool, but keep it out-the-fuck-side.

Comparatively, the UK doesn’t have much of a bug problem — you won’t hear the cacophony of an insect orchestra at night as you do in the US — but damn! I swear island life has caused the spiders to inbreed to frightening sizes.
Like Face-huggers. Yeah, like in Aliens. Guess how well I’ll be sleeping tonight.

Damn.

* Disclaimer: I like mice - I knew this was not a mouse.
** Apologies to the downstairs neighbour.

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