Saturday, December 19, 2009

Nightmares

I had this weird dream last night- i dreamt i married a man i didnt love; in fact didnt like very much.

The wedding was in Brazil, i think Sao Paolo it was. My whole family was there and so were some people from uni.

The man i married was Malay (i know- what?!) and one of those quiet violent types, turning psychotic and violent when i brought up that this marriage was a mistake. I didnt think he loved me either.

In the nightmare after the wedding ceremony i ran off to go dancing with some friends (sans new hubby) and then ended up in a Sao Paolo slum injecting heroin while whinging to the lady supplying me with smack.

It was freaky because the person i married was so WRONG. He was just creepy. And we didn't like each other, not even in a human-to-human way.

That part about me being a heroin addict also is straight up disturbing.

To make me feel better- a nice song, with a video about being saved from your nightmares.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

thinspire

Men who look better than me in dresses.
Owh i hate being me.


CANDY 1 from Luis Venegas on Vimeo.

First step to being a good Polish housewife

I was invited to my first Polish christmas dinner on sunday past.

The perfect* boyfriend of a friend decided to throw us a traditional Polish christmas dinner to celebrate his new job.

It's a 12 course meal, steeped in traditional and ritual.

I showed up early, bringing a bottle of champagne and ice- and was told there was no drinking. "There's no drinking on Polish Christmas dinner" he says. What? Polish and no drinking? I was flabbergasted. Ok....nevermind. I offered to help with preparation- and he tells me to defrost the carp. It's a whole carp, like with the head and all, if im not wrong, flown/shipped/lorried from Poland. Ok....im still calm, but it he's starting to panic.

I switch into bossy, organized, housewife in kitchen mode (i admit, i do have this aspect of my personality i'd rather not explore) in the light of the panic. At least i rise to the occasion (so he said......;P)

I ended up chopping fish, running out for last minute supplies, frying various sorts of dumplings and keeping the boy sane. It all went well in the end.

The dinner started with the sharing of holy bread- it's the proper blessed stuff. It's a really sweet thing where you go around the table, taking a piece of each other's bread and wishing something for the person in the next year. It was kinda emotional, but really heartwarming.

Then (2) is boiled eggs with heart attack inducing, super-delicious polish mayonnaise. It symbolises purity and new year, so we had to finish the whole tray. Not a problem. I was licking the mayonnaise of my plate. Even the eggs were from Poland. Tesco eggs just wouldn't do.

(3) Beetroot soup (that looks like blood and stains lips a gorgeous red) with mushroom dumplings served with (4) croquets

(5) THE POLISH CARP. Defrosted, sliced (a fucking mission), battered and fried. Fried and served straightway; it was soft, fresh and delicious. I wish there was more. The bones were hell and there's bread on the table just in case someone gets bones stuck in their throat. Eaten with (6) mashed beetroot and horseradish and (7) marinaded, pickle slippery jack mushrooms.

No, unfortunately our carp wasn't that big :( The story is that the freshness of the carp is so important that in Poland people will keep the carp alive in the bathtub to kill and cook on the day of the dinner itself. So yeah, no baths before christmas.

(8) Pickled herring (my absolute favorite!) which my friend had trouble with. He cant stand the look of it. The thing it, it's said that the 12 courses are for the 12 months of the year, and so you have to eat a little bit of everything or not the course you miss will mean a bad month in the coming year. He had some in the end. He won't be buying it again, but it wasn't as bad as he imagined it was.



(9)Boiled-fried-dumpling (i cannot say anything in polish, but i swear that was what it translated to). Filled with cabbage and fungus (like the edible sort not the feet kind). By this point, i was kinda bursting. But dinner must go on......

(10)Lazy dumpling- cottage-cheese like cheese, with a thin pastry covering- fried in butter and covered in sugar that's allowed to caramelize. Heaven, because you'll have a heart attack eating that but you'll die happy. Perfect just off the pan, hot and melty......

(11)Sweet pasta salad, with poppy seed+honey+almond paste, walnuts and raisin. Yum, but i was seriously full up to the gills by this point.

(12) Desserts-

(a) Polish cherry cheesecake. Piquant cherry, that creamy cottage-cheese like cheese and chocolate sponge. At this open i was accessing the special dessert pouch my stomach has.


(b) Polish tree cake. I thought it was called tree cake because it looks like tree bark
but no, it's called tree cake because at the shop, where it's made it actually looks like a tree (a cone, and they stick branches at the top). Tree cake rocks. By this point, i could not move. Neither could anyone else. Hence......

WE ALL MISSED THE LAST TRAIN HOME.

And then was the adventure of bringing lotsa-lotsa yummy polish dinner food home (one of us had a box, i had 2 plastic bags full of tuppeware) on the bus. One to east london, 2 to heathrow, one more to south london and one lucky fella lived in central london. We didn't get any pictures of the meal because we were having to much fun cooking, eating and messing about. It was loads of fun and such a fantastic cultural experience (cliched but so true). And those fungus dumplings go so well with a lettuce salad for lunch today.

*My mate's boyfriend is perfect, except for the little thing about commintment phobia. Other than thats he's perfect. Im jealous. But what's a girl to do?

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Friday, December 11, 2009

Guilty pleasures



I dreamt i got a tattoo-but it got botched up. Even in my dream i had the dilemma, in the end i decided on a small heart (how tacky) on the tip of my right shoulder. In my dream a girl i knew but didn't particularly like was the tattoo artist and all i noticed was her hands were trembling. It was a very odd dream, but most of mine are.

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Random thoughts of a drugged up me at 2.50 in the morning when disappointed by the UKFPO

Im being drugged up for my back, which is killing me. I have no idea why. My foot, which was killing me on monday is fine. My limp is barely perceptible, i just walk slow. It doesn't hurt as much as my back. Why my back?! My physio will just have to bear with me tomorrow. The unlucky man.

Codeine based painkillers rock. I understand the attraction, the cause for addiction. The pain really does all go away. Ibuprofen makes my tummy unhappy. Gotta have food/milk with it. Im so gonna be a fat fuck if i keep this up. Ugh. Cannot miss a dose of painkillers. Missed my post dinner dose and now im paying for it.

I still dont know where im gonna end up working. Is it London? Is it Wales......maybe Jersey? The anticipation (and back pain) is kiling me. It's supposed to be out today.....sigh...

Im scared that i'll be riddled with this sad, fat, useless body forever. And that i'll be addicted to narcotics and fat and unhappy.

Ok, maybe i need some sleep.

You know that tacky yet cute english christmas film, love actually it's called, there's a story about a guy who is in love with his best friend's wife and he tells her over christmas, with placards rather than saying it? I love this line: And my wasted heart will love you. Just 'cause. In the movie it looks like this:


Ok, sleepy time. :P

Monday, December 07, 2009

Lisfranc Injury

I fell yesterday.
A little fall, nothing major, but, my God, it hurt.

I kinda fell like this:

It was on a stairs at the tube station. I managed to hobble home.

I got home, propped it on a pillow, put some bandages on and slept. Or at least tried to sleep. The pain was excruciating. It throbbed, i could feel every pulse in my foot.

This morning i couldn't walk on it. At all. I called a cab and made my way to the hospital i used to work. I jumped along on one foot, with my shinai in it's bag as a crutch. A lovely girl helped me into A&E, holding on to me as i hobbled along. Bless her beautiful heart.

A&E was empty. I had 2 lots of x-rays and given the all clear. I do not have a Lisfranc. Well, it's hard to diagnose, but we'll see. If im still swollen and in pain by wednesday it would be a Lisfrance for sure (says the lazy finalist).

Im now on regular on co-codamol and ibuprofen and going to sleep it off.

Pray that i get well soon- bless all your beautiful hearts. x

Friday, December 04, 2009

Should i bring the little red polka dot bikini?

I just received a very curt text from my dad saying that the whole family- when i say whole i mean 18 person entourage, from granny to baby cousin- is going to Phuket for 5 days over christmas.

The dates are such that i'll be missing my friend's wedding. Damn it, the dress just arrived today as well. It's prettier in real life, all flowly, forgiving and just a little bit of elegant shine from the sequiny bit. I didn't get shoes in the end, good thing too, seeing as i wont be going.

Sometimes, my dad pisses me off when i get ultimatums like this.

Now the big question is how many swimming outfits to bring and if i get away with the little red polka dot bikini in front of my aunts. Hmm, it may accidentally expose my tattoo. You know, that little one on my left.............just kidding. I dont have a tattoo, though i wish i could have one. Why i cannot is a complex issue, something involving going to hell.

But i'll be packing at least 2 swimming outfits, my beach dresses and leggings. And i better be working on those sit ups.

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

I hate being fat

It's tough being fat and fabulous.
If i can say so myself.

It's so much more work. Finding clothes, faking confidence and trying to look good while lugging around the extra weight of a large child is exhausting.

It's taking it's toll on my psyche. Im tired of working so hard. Clothes, make-up, exercise- so much effort just to look 'acceptable', to not be a fat-freak. It's also psychologically difficult. To act comfortable in my own body, to not want to hide away, to be so different; an outcast in normal, BMI under 25 society. I have to constantly convince myself i am as good as everyone else, i deserve to be here though i dont feel it.

I have to work hard to make myself different, special. Not having good looks to play on, i have to develop skills and knowledge to ensure i stay relevant in society. To be accepted, so to speak. But acceptance isn't enough; i want adoration, love, envy.

I want it all.....muahahhaha.....


I hope never to lose my sense of humour though. Never. It's the only thing that keeps me going. The fact that i know God is probably having a good giggle watching me trying so hard. Im thinking if i keep at it, maybe God will give in. Alter my metabolism, warp my genes and give me the miracle that is skinny, smart and happy.