To blog or not to blog when feeling particularly grumpy and moody, that is the question. No one likes a moan, right? Unless it is their own? Ah even in my darkest moments I can pull out a (weak) rhyme!
Anyway, I placed a little embargo on writing for a few days after my b-day. My birthday itself was fine and I didn’t feel particularly moody about hitting the big 4-0. There were cupcakes and beautiful flowers, which make it hard to be blue.
|Thanks darlin', I almost forgot!|
|Blueberry and Chocolate sugar coma yumminess|
But I was feeling a lot of grumpy feelings this week regardless. Unrelated? Corresponding with starting back on the Slow Carb/4 hour body/most indecisively named diet ever? A week back on and I’m up a pound, which is never going to help the old self esteem. Right now trying with all my might not to scoff some of the delicious American candy my friends kindly sent me from back home via Dandy Candy (this site looks dangerous for expat cravings!). Saving it for the “cheat day.”
It was a strange sort of week. We met a friend at the pub on Saturday, returned home in the evening around 7:30 to find our neighbourhood mysteriously darkened, the street lights' absence suddenly keenly felt when you are stumbling around (not due to drink, we’d only had a couple!) in the dark, trying not to step in dog poo (our street is a dog poo minefield). I could not for the life of me find my flashlight app on my phone of course. Other groups shuffled past in the dark, suddenly vaguely ominous, many with flashlights, and it all felt a tiny bit post-apocalyptic. Something about cities and power outages are just super creepy.
So we made it through the door only to find the lights were off everywhere (a few candlelit houses threw us).
So no power, no dinner, and no heat. I staggered around, found a few candles, and we sat in the darkness, trying to remember where the phonebook was to call the electricity helpline. The helpful recorded message assured power would be restored “by midnight.” Blooming heck! I shivered, feeling suddenly Dickensian and hard done by. We debated going/sending out for dinner, when after a half an hour power was restored. Life is returned! We are so vulnerable without it, the electric buzz. Reminded me of the first year I lived in NYC, my roommate and I had to find shelter for a few days in the deepest freeze of winter, I honestly cannot remember if it was frozen pipes or what but I ended up in Queens, which is never a good thing (I kid! I actually like Queens. But that particular scenario was not the best).
Anyway we didn’t end up eating until almost 9, which meant I just threw a frozen pizza in the oven for D. I ate a salad, which felt terribly noble in the circumstances when all I wanted was some warm comfort. This Slow Carb diet supposedly allows a couple of glasses of red wine only, on diet days, which until now I had not experimented with because I know if I drink I want to eat junk. On the “cheat day” I have found it is not ideal to overdo the alcohol either because the hangover without comfort food is just unbearable. So anyway after a couple of small glasses of red wine and the power outage my willpower was indeed low, so I felt proud of myself for resisting the pizza. So I think in future I will keep the wine to a minimum, which I knew anyway but this was essentially birthday drinks so I let it slip. I sound so virtuous, and all to have not lost (actually gained) a pound. Grr.
Just generally feeling a bit disappointed this week, with diets, with various things. All totally selfish and so I feel guilty whingeing on about it considering world events this week. Paris is my second favourite city, my lover to New York's husband to paraphrase Carrie Bradshaw. I dream about it, I worship it's beauty and art and it it breaks my heart it has been so wounded by cowardice. Top of my things to do this year is pay our friend B. who lives there a long overdue visit.
|Rodin's garden, heaven on earth.|
|First trip to Paris, Notre Dame|
|You haven't lived until you've sat beneath the Eiffel tower at night and watched it's sparkle-a-thon.|
|Second trip, w/Mom. that's me lurching gracefully towards the Eiffel tower|
So yeah, January, you kind of stink so far. I think I'm going to hibernate in my Christmas snood until you are over.
|Snood from Forever 21, attitude forever 40.|
(Introverted indoors) things I did enjoy this week despite being a grumbly sourpuss:
Pitch Perfect (on Amazon Prime, who are in my bad books for removing Dexter just as I finally finished the series Stateside only for them to remove it for no particular reason after never bothering to put on the final season in the almost year we’ve been with them! So I was wanting to re-watch because the last season was frankly a tiny bit awful and sad and I wanted to remember when it was good…I digress…oops…rant over.): Pitch Perfect is fun, mindless without being too stupid, Anna Kendrick is adorable, it made me giggle. In short I liked it and it made me wish I could sing.
Catching up with Atlantis on the BBC iplayer: I love Atlantis. I know it’s a bit silly but is sates the gap Merlin left for lighthearted, humorous costume epics. It plays with Greek mythology in fun ways. Plus Jason is rather easy on the eyes, and I love Mark Addy and the boy who plays Pythagoras’s gentle banter. It’s like a cup of tea in telly form, and I can’t wait for the second half to come back.