aaaannnnnnnd sleep

So instead of tidying my craft room, I kinda bought a dog instead.

Obviously, working from home, home schooling my son, looking after 3 kids, a house, a fella etc etc, clearly isn't enough! I need more responsibility! AND its half term!

Enough already, I have been planning to get a dog for a while now. My eldest son who I home school has autism and I knew he would just love it.

It turns out, my son, Max, has had a look at Lexie dog, and that's about it. My daughter Jess and youngest son Billy, on the other hand, have not left poor Lexie alone. I mean literally in her face.

This means Lexie is following me everywhere. I am some sort of protective umbrella from the kids.

It also means when I am working Lexie sets up home in my craft room, as its nice and quiet.

I don't mind really, kinda makes me feel special.....

Note that Jess arrives and the dog leaves....










Anyway, this week, i haven't been able to create as much as I wanted to, as its half term and every time i get stuck into anything, one of the kids has a drama or wants something to eat, or I have to wipe a bum or something.

My most popular item at the moment is hand made Christmas Dec's and this is what I've done this week... The gingerbread men's eyes aren't boss eyed, they are those wobbly eyes and its just where I have led them down and they have a drunk, crazy look about them.

People often say, 'use a sewing machine, you will get it done so much quicker' (read it again but in a sarcastic whiny taking the mick voice), but I don't like using a sewing machine.

I like hand sewing everything. I like the look it gives, a rustic, handmade item, that I have spent time on to make it look good. No item is the same. I find sewing machines very military and very neat, but it doesn't give an item any character. You can look at some of my items, some of the stitches are a bit wibbly wobbly, but that's what its all about for me. It means it was made by a human being, who isn't perfect, just like everyone else (and that i was probably thinking of the latest episode of Boardwalk empire or Downton Abbey and lost concentration for a bit).

These are £12 for a set of 4 or £3.50 each. I have made these for a craft fair I am at on the 30th November.

I'm really pleased I have finished these, I have made so many I started to lose the love for them a bit. I can now move onto to other projects, like making bunting, tea lights, like these...

I made these for my mum, as like a little tester. I'm happy to say that the tea lights didn't burn down her house or kill anyone. Hooray!

And I thought id make some matching bunting

This gave me an idea for in the quiet months of January and February 2014. I often get asked how to decoupage, so i have set up some one to one sessions at my house in the new year. Its not likely to be a very professional thing... don't get me wrong, I will show the customers how to decoupage tea lights and bunting, but it will be whilst we munch on biscuits and drink tea and chat about rubbish, in my kitchen.

In the meantime, I will be making owls and boxes and bits and bobs to sell to make some money for crimbo, otherwise its satsumas all round on Christmas day!

These are some of the past owls I have made

Naww putting those owl pictures up makes me look forward to making some more! I haven't made any in ages!

I'm not very good at writing long posts, i'm to lazy. I like to just post little snippets of my crafting life so as not to bore you to death.

So, I shall leave you with this very interesting and totally 'not posed for' picture, taken by my daughter as i work very hard... Luckily i had a bra on.

Laters!

Well hellloooooooo

Its been a little while since I last blogged, and it was about me and my personal life blah blah blah. If that wasn't self indulgent enough, here I am now, with a craft blog, blaring the title of my business name (ahem, yes I am a business woman).

Welcome to Dagian Crafts! ( Dagian is pronounced day-gin. This is old english for 'Dawn')

I make a whole range of things! From beautiful decoupaged tea lights to Christmas turds. Yes thats right, Christmas turds.

Here are a few I made for a customer the other day....

Cool huh!












This little beauty is called Crap Von D...

covered in tattoos, just like Kat Von D (see what i did there)









These are probably the most popular item I make (because deep down, you are all as sick as me!). But I am pretty versatile, if someone asked me to make, say a boob flashing russian doll, I would give it a go.... Oh wait! I thought of that and I make them!

Ok, so this is a cross dressing boob flashing Russian Doll (with hairy chest) But they make unique gifts!

Im not all about the crap tho, I dont mind blowing me own trumpet about the pretty stuff I make to.... here is a little snippet:

Christmas themed tea lights

Gorgeous boxes

  

little creatures









I love making little keyrings and bookmarks as well. Its obviously important to keep your designs as original as possible, and I like to think all my items have a certain 'Dawn quirkiness' to them.

This is my table from a craft fair earlier this year. Aint it perdy!

And where does the magic happen? In my blimmin fab craft room, which looks amazingly tidy in the 1st picture, as I had just put the room together, the 2nd picture is how it looks today 23/10/2013 (hangs head in shame)

Lovely and cosy and tidy

Now, shockingly untidy, unorganised and has its own system somewhere....

I just want to point out, that, that isnt bags of rubbish on the floor, I am actually a very clean person, all those bags are full of craft stuff!

This is why I have started sewing in the sitting room as there is just NO ROOM in here!





Im actually feeling somewhat ashamed, so I'm going to go and sort it out, right now.

Will post pictures of tidy room on my next post.

If you would like to order any items from me, please contact me on shergolddawn@yahoo.com

Sorry its only a little post, but im far to busy to sit here and type stuff. I gotta do stuff!

Laters!

Dawn xxxx

I got it wrong

I have had a terrible few weeks.

Since my Simply Be review, I had a few opportunities come up. One of them was a plus size modelling job and I was to go to London for a photo shoot. A date was set, I just had to wait for a email from the agency, a time slot from the photographer. I had childcare sorted, i bought an outfit, I told everyone I knew. Normally i would chicken out of anything that's outside my comfort zone. But I didn't this time, I wouldn't let the gremlins in my head ruin this amazing opportunity for me, this could be life changing.  Then I was let down. After sending the agency many emails requesting a time, i didn't get a reply. And when I finally did get a reply, it was on the day I was meant to be there and they still didn't have a time for me and i was told  to contact them again in a couple of days and maybe they would have a time for me. I realised then, that with 3 children, this wouldn't be a possible dream and with my sensitive soul, I wouldn't be able to deal with rejection etc within this industry. My skin isn't thick enough for it, and I haven't been able to get over my disappointment.

I feel really sorry for myself. I got myself so ready, I felt so lucky to be given this opportunity and then it was taken away. Like some kind of cruel life tease.

So I have done what i do best. I have ate. I have eaten beyond anything I have eaten before. Usually I binge, then go on a diet for a few days, then another binge would happen.

I have binged continuously for 3 weeks now.

Thoughts of, you are useless, you don't deserve good things to happen to you, what a joke you are, silly cow, why would anyone want you as a model. they have changed their mind because you are so ugly. I haven't written a post for my blog, because, well, whats the point.

I also find myself dissapointed in the realisation that thinking, baring my soul to the world with my blog and my past events would be the cure to my binge eating.

I now realise that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Food isn't the problem. My emotions are the problem.

The main events in my life that i have written about, are the events that I thought caused my eating. Even though they are some of the reasons. They aren't the only reasons.

Its the little thoughts that make me eat.

Anxiety, rejection, vulnerability. Suppressed feelings that are deep rooted in me that i don't want to deal with. Not even major things, everyday stuff.

I hate talking on the phone. I get my words all fumbled and mixed up. The thought of ringing, for example, my local council to come and fix my window, fills me with such fear, id rather write them an email and forever check for a response, which leads to further anxiety and frustration as i'm not getting a response straight away. So id eat until I get a response.

Its dealing with the here and now i have problems with. I have a big fear of being judged, I tend to put on a ditsy act so that I am easily forgiven if i get the information wrong.

I think this comes from school. I wasn't the smartest kid, especially when it came to maths, history and science. Back then, instead of being given extra help, you were just put in the class with the other not very smart kids and given a work book. I know, if i was given just a bit of support, i would have got a lot further at school. I bunked off alot because, whats the point, I don't understand the work, Id rather smoke fags in a field somewhere. I was often in trouble, mainly because I was embarrassed to be a bit thick, so i was the clown instead. All my mates were really clever, like REALLY clever. I never understood why they wanted to be my friend because I was really stupid.

I remember drawing a map of Great Britain in class once. I got it wrong, I asked my mates if Ireland was attached to England and they all laughed at me. Don't get me wrong, I took the piss out of my mates as often as I could, but when it came to them laughing at me, my heart would literally break. I never felt i belonged within my group of friends as it was. And I was forever battling to do things that they would like me for and as long as I got a laugh from them, I knew they still liked me.

I love my friends, but my god, they made me feel like shit. Not intentionally, how could they know if I didn't tell them? Im sure that at times I made them feel like shit to.

I hated being the only friend who didn't have a boyfriend. I hated that my 3 of my best mates would pair off as their boyfriends were friends and id be in limbo. I would still hang around with them, but just as the spare prick.

Sat there twiddling with my hair, bored shitless, because they would all be snogging. I cant even snog my fella today because the sounds of my mates gums slapping together with their boyfriends used to make me feel sick. Id storm off home angry and rejected. Crying to my mum that no one likes me and that i'm fat and ugly and stupid. Feeling heart broken because I wasn't invited to events, because I wasn't part of this boyfriend girlfriend click.

I have blamed a lot of things and how I feel and react to areas in my life on my childhood, but thinking about it, my school life has had a huge impact on my life.

Not just feeling left out, but how I was taught in class as well.

PE was a big problem for me. At middle school, no matter how cold the weather was, we were to wear PE knickers and a t-shirt. We were made to do cross country running and by the end of it, you would get the corned beef mottled effect and your skin would itch terrible.

I wasn't good at PE. I didn't work well within a team, i was always the last to be picked because, basically i was shit. I was awkward and clumsy and not fast enough and I felt fat and gross.

One thing I am and was really terrible at was long distance running.

Once, we had this all day sports event. It wasn't quite sports day, it was something more than that, I cant remember what it was. But everyone had a certain amount of events that they had to do and try and get lots of points for each class. They needed 1 more person to take part in a long distance running event. It was between me and this other girl, as we hadn't chosen enough events to take part in. Somehow, this other girl stayed quiet and I got picked for it and there was a groan from the class as they knew we would lose points if i was to do this race.

I remember silently crying looking out the window as the panic rose in my throat. Already I had let the class down before id even slipped into my Ascot trainers.

It was time for me to do the race. I gathered with the other girls taking part and my heart sank. They were the girls who were really really good at running. They were lean and fast. I was fat (i wasn't fat) and slow and I knew, with my white hair, my red sweaty face would glow like a traffic cone.

So the race started, I kept up with the other girls for about 50 meters, then I slowed, and then I walked. I remember watching them race around the track, knowing that they were going to lap me. The PE teacher was an asshole. I'm not just saying that, he was a proper asshole. His name was Mr Martel. The asshole.

He would burst into our changing room, with no respect for our awkward pre-pubescent bodies. Laughing and being an asshole.

So as i was struggling to run this race, he was there, arms folded, judging me and shaking his head at me as i limped past him. I knew I was letting everyone down enough, I didn't need him to make me feel worse. Asshole.

I was lapped by the other girls and when I had about 2 more laps to go, I just walked them. I didn't see the point in giving myself a heart attack as id already lost. The girls were sat on the field drinking water watching me as i walked round, like some kind of shamed donkey.

I also had the dread that i had to go back to my class mates and tell them the news they already knew. Id lost the class points, because i was rubbish.

I had the reaction i was expecting, but it didn't ease my pain. Another notch on my useless belt.

I always thought I loved school, but thinking about it, school was a big pile of shitting cock.

Teachers weren't like they are today. I'm not saying all teachers today are great, but they are loads better from what we had.

I remember, in R.E putting my hand up in class to answer a question. I never put my hand up in class, but I had this over powering urge to answer a question. The answer was wrong. I think the teacher was having a particularly bad day, because he slammed a book down really hard on his desk with real anger and frustration (it made everyone jump out their skin) and screamed at me 'DONT YOU LISTEN!!!!!!!!!'

Obviously not!

Jeez, I wont bother next time! So i didn't. I wasn't risking making a teacher angry with my silly answers again...

I know you are probably thinking, this is normal stuff at school. And it probably is, but this has had a big affect on my world, and i'm trying to piece together where these feelings of being useless and unworthy comes from and I think I have found the answer.

School life.

I also had stuff going on at home, my dad was busy being mental. My mum was having a breakdown and going through eating issues. My dad went through a stage of being the milkman at my school and Id have to go and say hello if i saw him. He would give me a carton of juice and other kids would be really jealous, where as I just wanted him to sod off.

My packed lunch at school was really crap. Fucking awful. My mates would have crisps and chocolate bars and yummy things and id have bloody diet food. As ashamed as I am to say this and that i was this, but i was always scabbing food off my friends... I was the girl that would always say 'can i borrow some money, i promise to give it back' so i could go to the canteen and get some cake (i never gave the money back).

One day, my mum put 3 custard cream biscuits in my lunchbox. I thought Christmas had come early, i was so delighted to have these biscuits. My mates saw that i had these biscuits and were instantly on me. They wanted them as a sort of pay back for all the food id scabbed off them for years. But i didn't want to give them my special biscuits. Couldn't they see how special this was! But I also knew that i owed my friends these biscuits, but i still didn't hand them over. In the end they were giving me such a hard time i threw them the biscuits and stormed out to have a cry in the toilets. When I came back in the classroom, my biscuits were eaten. Fucking gutted. To me, mum giving me those biscuits was her saying she loved me...

No matter how much my mum told me she loved me, I thought she was lying.

Mum has always been very open and honest about events in her life, ever since I was young. One thing I know now as well, even to this day. I don't get my mum.

My mum would say something that she would think is funny, but i would take to heart and dissect what she said into what I think she said or meant.

But it made me think my mum hated me and that she wanted me to be dead or not to have been born.

Stories of mum with post natal depression when i was born, she would say 'god, i bloody hated you, all you did was scream and cry and scream, in the end it made me mental!'

Mum wouldn't tell me this in a nasty way, it was always said with a nudge nudge wink wink, she would just tell me how it was. But to me, in my sensitive heart, i thought that my existence had made my mum hate me. As a kid I thought what kind of daughter was I to do this to my mum? I would forever feel guilty about everything, if anything bad ever happened, I felt it was my fault.

As an adult, and going through post natal depression myself, i totally get what she was saying, but even in humour, i wouldn't tell my children that's how i felt when they were born.

Even now, if my mum tries to give me advice or her opinion, I doubt myself, my opinion, my thoughts, i try and turn it round so I can take the blame. I get very defensive as I feel i'm being attacked and then i stop listening properly. I feel the most awful guilt if I try and make a stand and even if i know i'm in the right, i will always back down and agree with mum. I cant deal with the feelings that i'm possibly hurting her feelings or being disrespectful.

This is something I'm going to have to work on as throughout my life, i'm not sure what is the truth and what my mind has warped into my truth.

Its strange how a feeling of rejection from a person I don't know in London can kick up a load of suppressed feeling an issues. issues that you didn't even know were issues until you let your mind really digest them and then you think ' Fuck! actually, that really did hurt and actually I really don't like that situation'.

I guess its being honest about your feelings. There are people in my life that i love and because I love them I let things go. But they don't go, they just get buried. I'm amazed that i sobbed writing about my mates and how they made me feel at school, the feelings are still raw, something I thought I grew out of and put it down to us being kids. But actually it still fucking hurts!

I've acknowledged it now, i'm not sure what the next stage is, probably accepting it was what it was and letting go. I will spend the day crying as i've kicked up a load of old feelings, and that's okay, because if i'm crying, then i'm not shoving it all down with food. I've realised that i do dismiss my feelings and they all gather up and then I tend to explode into a big pile of teary snot, and people around me look at me weird, so, as hard as its going to be, I am gonna roll with what my feeling is with any given thing that's going on. If i find something upsetting, i'm gonna be upset. If something happens that gets me angry, i'm gonna get angry. Years of suppressing feeling is making me into a big fat unhappy beast.

I'm not sure of who the girl I am going to be as I don't know myself. I haven't met her yet as she has been silenced with food. But I will be accepting and acknowledging my feelings from now on. If I need to ring the council to fix my window, i will accept I feel anxious about speaking to someone, and then deal with it and get my windows fixed.

Laters x

SimplyBe Black Bodycon dress and Kimono wrap jacket loveliness

I feel uber lucky that I was able to choose a couple of items to review from SimplyBe's latest catalogue. The following items are things I think, are perfect for things like a Christmas party, a works do, or just to wear because you know you look foxy.

Ahem, so without anymore delay (drum roll please).....

Item number 1

Black Jersey Bodycon dress size 16 

When I first opened this, I thought, there is no way i am going to get into that and my heart broke just a little bit. But I tried it on and I was happy to get in it! Its definitely a S.I.B.O (stomach in boobs out) dress and suck em ins were definitely required to smooth down any sagging lard.

I felt really good in this dress, I think I would have been more comfy in a size bigger and if I were to wear this out for a meal, then that would be a stupid thing to do. Its TIGHT, but then that's what bodycon dresses are about.

I think if you are lacking in confidence, then this isn't the dress for you. This needs to be worn with attitude and confidence, otherwise you will just look like a sack of poo!

I did try and accessorise with a little thin belt around my waist, but it didn't look right on me. But on the right person I think a red belt as a pop of colour would look foxy.


I found the dress comfortable and it had a nice stretch to it and most of all, I love the length.

I did find the arms were a little tight and if you are a gal with larger arms, this dress could be a problem.

For £25 I think this is a great price for a dress that could take you through lots of parties and events.

It also come in 2 other colours, Aubergine and dark green. I chose black because you can add any colour accessories.





Now this next item I chose because, as a larger girl of the world, when it comes to, erm, bedroom attire, for me its a scabby baggy t-shirt and whatever leggings I've pulled out from the draw. Sexy huh. But for me that's real and I bet it is for you too. If you are one of those ladies that wears gorgeous nighties with fluffy glass slippers, then I salute you.

But there are sometimes, when I wish I did have something a little bit more glamorous, so when I saw this, I thought, yeah baby.

WARNING YOU MAY NEED SUNGLASSES

Before i put the pictures up, part of me wished i faked tanned my legs as they look like corpse legs, but then I thought 'ah bugger it, the sun doesn't see them bits and that's why they are sickeningly blindingly white' You have been warned, if you go blind, that's your fault.

Item 2

Kimono Wrap Jacket size 16/18 

Oh this is so pretty.

This item is 100% polyester, so I would avoid candles if you are trying to be seductive.

It felt silky when I put it on and I didn't have the static attack I was preparing myself for.

It has a long attached belt and a little loop and tie in the middle.

You can be as covered up or as exposed (snigger) as you like with this little number.

What I love about it is, I felt confident in it. I wont ever be the girlfriend who wears all that sexy stuff (sorry Steve, you have to except that, I'm just to lazy) I find it all to much of a faff and its blimmin uncomfortable. But with this bad boy, I actually felt like I was making an effort and I felt, ya know, kinda shexy.

Just look how pretty it is! I felt like a lady!

This was £26. I would definitely recommend this if you aren't body confident in the bedroom.

I'm not trying to fly here, I just wanted to show you the back. Look at the lovely shape of the sleeves!

I asked Steve (my other half) what he thought of the 2 items I chose. I trust Steve's opinion absolutely 100% he is very respectful and honest and this is what he said:

" I'm not very good at stuff like this, erm. I thought the black dress was very sexy and the silky nightie thing would do the job"

Thank you Stephen for those thoughtful, heartfelt words. Tsk.

disclaimer: I was provided these clothes for free in exchange for writing a review, but the free clothes did not depend on my writing a favourable review, all views and opinions are my own (and my boyfriend's)

Tits a pleasure

What is it about boobs?

I'm a 38E and I'm not a fan. Ive had 3 kids, my weight goes up and down like a brides nightie, so now they are big saggy pendulums of boob.

I'm quite open about my boobs.... not in a prozzy way, i don't charge money for people to have a feel, but, again, at the school gates (whats wrong with me??? its always at the school gates!) we (mums) often discuss our jugga-noughts.

There is one lady who has ENORMOUS boobs, I'm talking, massive, i reckon they must be an H cup. In hot weather i really feel for her and clothes must be a nightmare.

As humans do, we all range in different shapes and sizes. I have one friend who wishes she had my boobs and i would happily give them to her. I always have visions of Velcro attachments when i say she can have them and i would give anything to have her smaller pert ones to velcro onto my chest.

I'm a 16 on top and 18 on the bottom. I struggle to find clothes to fit my body shape as every shop is different.

I like to think i have a good knowledge of where I can shop and where I cant. Even tho 90% of my clothes come from charity shops, just from having such a range of different brands from these shops, i know whats good and what isn't.

I cant wear shirts or anything that buttons up at the front, for shirts to fit me around the chest i would have to buy a size 22, so it would fit me great around the bust, but the rest of me would look like a sack of shit.

even zipping up a coat is a strain
and make me look huge

 I definitely have a love hate relationship with my rack. If I'm having a non bloat day, i can usually wear something quite fitted and my boobs would look like something barbie would be proud of.

I have one boob a whole cup size bigger than the other, so one always looks like its trying to escape from its restraint.

One Item of clothes that i hate to DEATH is those tops that has a seem as part of the design around the bust that your boobs are meant to slot nicely into.

look at my boobs, sliced in half

When i put these tops/dresses on, it looks like my tits are deformed as the seem adds a ridge across them, literally slicing them in 2. Its not flattering and it doesn't feel sexy.

I went into sports direct the other day and because i was with my youngest, i knew i was on a clock before he started acting like a little git.

I wanted a supportive sports bra as I'm branching out and I'm gonna try aerobics at my local sports centre. I wanted something that will make me look like i know what I'm doing when i walk in for the first time. I'm usually in a bra, scabby vest top, pants and trainers when I'm doing a workout dvd at home (curtains closed).

It was important for me to look the part. And also because i refuse to pay full price for anything, i looked in the sale rail. I managed to find a support bra and vest top thingy in one. I normally have to wear a normal bra under these as well as the support bra bit tends to be pretty shite. I bought a size 18 as i thought that would definitely be roomy enough to fit over my bust. When i got home and tried it on, i was savage. I had that bloody seem that cuts each boob in half, even with my bra on underneath, looked stupid. I cant go to aerobics in that get up. I could have taken the top back, but as it was a hot day when i tried said article on, i think the top absorbed about 6inchs of sweat, so i kinda have to keep it. grrrrrr

dirty fun bags even ruin
 a nice black dress

So back to square one. It makes me cross that bras are so expensive. I'm a single parent of 3 children. Even tho i have my lovely Steve, he doesn't live with us, so the responsibility of the house, bills, kids etc is mainly down to me. I don't have £30 spare to buy a bloody sports bra, that's like a weeks worth of electric in my house! I cant justify spending that kind of money on something that stops a part of my body moving about.

Steve loves my boobies. He calls them his dirty pillows (gross) He would have them bigger if he had it his way, but i just see them as these awkward body parts.

If i was allowed one medical/cosmetic procedure it would, without a doubt be a reduction and lift. One of my pleasures in life is taking my bra off at the end of the day, oh its heaven, pertaaaang flop ahhhhh.

If someone comes round my house when these bad boys are out their cage, i am so embarrassed and i do that self conscience arm scoop thing to try and trick that person into thinking i have pert boobies, but it just looks like I'm holding a newborn baby.

loose and fancy free, my other boob is under my armpit i think

My mum has a wazzo pair as well, she feels my pain. But she has good boobs and i envy her to death that she can go without a bra and no one can tell. pft

It isn't just the size of them that bothers me, its the other parts of my body it affects. I walk with a slouch, i don't mean to but my boobs are heavy, i naturally slouch, i also get that awful bra strap dig thing in my shoulders and standing up straight hurts my back.

Losing weight is one answer, but its that catch 22 thing. If i lose weight, my boobs will indeed get a little bit smaller, but i will also have smaller boobs with a load of saggy excess skin that would look even worse.

I don't mean to moan, I'm lucky I'm not disabled or disfigured or anything like that. But I'm not happy with my body, i don't think i ever will be. I like my legs. I think that's about it. I wonder if i have that body dis morphia. People tell me I'm pretty all the time, but i think they are just lying. I'm getting better with age. Its my 32nd birthday today, and I am more stable in my head now than I ever was in my twenties, certain things don't bother me like they used to when i was younger, so maybe by the time I'm 40, i will all be sorted and happy with my body?

Or maybe I'm just talking a load of shit

Laters

im just weird okay!!

I'm crap at making plans. I'm what you would call a flake.

I see mums at the school and we do that, 'oh we really must get together, when are you free?' and I'm like 'Im not sure, can i get back to you on that one?'.

I never get back to these people. I'm sure i offend, i don't mean to.

Even tho i really like these people and i feel very humbled that they would want to spend any time with me, the pressure of a planned event, (even just a cup of coffee) one to one with another person makes me panic and then i cancel at the last minute.

Sometimes, there are things i know i have to go through with. Visiting my cousin Donna and family's new pad in Portsmouth was one of them. I love my family, i love it when we get together (as long as they come here), but going on a train, to a place i didn't know, made my throat close over with fear.

So, I booked the train tickets for me, Mum and my daughter Jess a week early so I couldn't back out.

Nearing the time, i was tearful, snappy and just a bit of a Twat. I wasn't going off to war, I wasn't being kicked out my country to live in a igloo, I wasn't at gun point being told i have to sit next to a smelly old man, naked. I was going on a train to visit my cousin, then coming home.

Simple!

ISN'T IT!

On the day itself I was fine. we were catching an early train, so it was just get up and go.

3 Beauts ready for the choo choo

It was a gorgeous sunny day. Classic thing for me and my mum is to be early for everything. Train was due at 9.35am. We are about 15 minutes car drive to the station, so realistically, we didn't need to leave our house until 9.10am. So we left at 8.45am. You know, just in case of something....

Parked up, went into a shop to get a few bits for the journey. Mum and Jess waited outside the shop as I queued for my items.

I'm not sure why, but when you have a time limit, for each section of your day, like I do ( OCD much??!) I had it in my head that I will be in the shop for 5 to 7 minutes. This was the choosing items, lining up to pay, being served, and leaving the shop.
Oh, but the woman in front, oh no, she wasn't on a time limit was she, no, she wanted to tell the shop assistant all about the ins and outs of her arse hole, AND she smelt of piss. I'm patient to a certain point, then I'm not so patient. It starts off with a impatient tap of the foot, then comes the heavy sighs, looking at the person behind to roll my eyes, and at breaking point, I usually say something like 'Excuse me, I'm in a real rush, can you serve me please'. Luckily, I didn't get to the speaking stage, I just did a impatient face, tap of foot, and a big obvious impatient sigh. Pissy pants in front got the hint and moved to one side. Jeez that was lucky, I was nearly at the 7 minute limit.  

Mum and Jess were fine outside, but my heart was pounding, stress was coursing through my veins. I did what my mates used to call 'the chicken walk'. This is where, i stomp on ahead and my hair does this thing where it flicks in and out like a chicken wing. I know my friend reading this will chuckle at this (hate you guys) and vision the walk I was doing.

I'd like to think the people staring at us was thinking 'wow, what amazingly beautiful blonde people' But i know they were questioning 'why is that woman walking like a chicken and why is that other woman dragging a suitcase with a tree in it?'

I should point out at this stage, that the women in our family, are, scavs. We visit each other, but the day isn't complete until we have raided the persons house of things we want to take home to keep for ourselves. Obviously with the persons permission! We aren't thieves! ( well maybe thieves with permission?)

So mum really went for it and took a suitcase to bring all the treasures back home in. We also bought a housewarming present which was an olive tree, and it stuck out of the bright red suitcase, like one of those dogs in a bag.

Poor Jess was doing the walk I used to do at her age, whenever I walked along side Mum. It was like a little jog to keep up, you darent look in a shop window or up at the sky, or that was it, Mum was in the distance and i would panic in case i couldn't catch up and I'd be lost FOREVER!!!! Doesn't stop me doing the fast mum walk now tho, keep up Jess.

We arrived at the train station and found our platform with a good 10 minuets to spare.

The train arrived and the instant fright of possibly falling down the gap and getting run over by the train and being dragged to Portsmouth washes over me as I watch my daughter take the big step onto the train
We were fine by the way, we didn't fall and get dragged, thanks for asking.

We found a table and settled in. it was HOT. When Mum used to have bouts of hot flushes she would buy those Chinese fans, she still uses them now on hot days. So there we were, sat round a table, mum fanning herself like lady of the manor with a bush sticking out her bag (I'm not talking about her vagina. snigger)

Where I was sat, was in eye line with a weird bloke, who i know was staring at my tits, so i had to do that awkward lean so i didn't have to see him or catch his wondering eye.

My mum had her cleavage out (not in a slutty way!) and every bloke that went past had a good ol look at my mums bobbing boobs. This amused me.

Listening to peoples conversations on the train is interesting. It passes the time and it just proves how boring us human beings are.

It got to about an hour into the journey, when Mum asked a very important question 'Why do men have nipples?'

I don't know I'm afraid, but I'm sure the whole train is now wondering that very thing to.

Finally, we arrive at our platform, waiting for us is my cousin's wife Wendy, delighted to see her we have a massive group hug on the platform. Ahhhhh.
We get into Wendy's car and drive to their new house. EXCITING!

My cousin Donna greeted us with big hugs and kisses and smiles, truly fab to see her. We clamber into their house knocking things over, eyeing up possible things to take home, saying hello to my other cousins. Taking in the new house. Its a really nice home, the atmosphere is lovely and welcoming and Donna's glass art is everywhere. She is so damn clever.

I met their blind dog as he nosed me in the vag. That was nice, then he went outside and led in the sun pretty much all day.

We had the grand tour of the house and settled down in the kitchen and had a cuppa and a chat.

Then Donna suggested we take a walk to the sea.

I loved walking past peoples houses, having a nose into their sitting room windows as i go by. Not nose to the window type thing, more of a rubber neck as i stroll by, looking at people, knowing that i will never see them again, just really taking the whole place of where Donna and Wendy live.

I loved seeing that Donna also had the fast walk as I had to go back to my old ways and every now and then do a little jog/bouncy walk.

The photos opposite is us, en mass, going to the seaside :)

I'm not a seaside girl. I think you are either a water person or a land person. I am a land person, I'm more at home walking up to the woods near where i live and sitting in a field taking pictures.

I'm not sure why I don't like the sea, I couldn't think of anything worse than sat on a beach for a day. God id die with boredom. Sometimes I do envy people who are able to sit and relax on a beach, but I get really fidgety and irritable as sand gets up my nose in my eyes and in my teeth? I hate that crunch.

But, I did enjoy the stroll we took, and collected sea glass and shells. Wendy kept on finding dead crabs and half eaten birds and stuff, that was nice.



We then made our way up to a little ice cream place.

I had this handmade honeycomb sexy gorgeous ice cream. Oh lordy, I'm salivating now just thinking about it.
I go into a zone when I'm really enjoying eating something. There could have been a fatal car crash, bombs exploding, people being stabbed, anything, and i still wouldn't notice if I'm in that zone.

Anyway, we then made our way back to Donna's for lunch.

I had packed my own lunch as i was trying to be all healthy, but that went tits up when Donna busted out the french bread and real butter. Damn, i literally slice butter like cheese when I have it.

One of the things I love about us family getting together is seeing similarities with certain things.

One of those things is this... If I have a packet of crisps/chocolate/biscuits, I would rather buy you an entire packet of crisps/chocolate/biscuits, than for you to reach into MY packet and take one. In fact, I would buy you the factory where they make these foods as long as it meant you didn't try and take 1 of my crisps. I get really stroppy and childish, so i was delighted to see this unfold between Donna and her son. Donna reached into her sons crisps packet...

Lunch was had and then the scavenging begins. Me mum and Jess go into Donna's workroom and look in every draw, every nook and cranny, this is what you would have heard... 'Oooooh can i have this?' 'Oooooh whats that? do you want that? can i have it?'

Mums suitcase was literally bursting with treasures. Glass projects that Donna had done but didn't want anymore, voile's, bits n bobs. We were giddy with joy!

We sat back down in the kitchen, drinking tea, laughing, taking the piss out of each other.

Then it came over me

I want to go home.

Train was due at 3.30. It was about 2.30ish at this point. It over came me with such force, we were in the middle of giggling for God sake. I do this every time. My mates know me well enough not to take offence, I manage about an hour around someones house before i have to go home. Maybe 2-3 hours around my besties before I announce I'm going home.

But Donna and Wendy don't really know this bit about me. So as we were giggling, I announce 'I want to go home'.

I knew it didn't go down well as it went a bit silent. But I just had to leave. I asked Wendy to take us to the train station early, even though it would involve me, Mum and Jess standing about on the platform for 30 minutes to wait for the train, but i had to leave or i was gonna have a panic attack if i was made to stay.

We said our goodbyes and Wendy took us to the train station where we did indeed wait for about 30 minutes for our train. Mum didn't even question it, I think years ago she was the same. When you get that urge to go home, waiting on a platform for 30 minutes is a step closer to home than waiting 30 minutes at your cousins house!

I know i offended, I didn't mean to, I don't know why I get this urgency to go home. I cant stay over at peoples houses, id rather be sober all night at a party and drive home than stay over in someones house.

I find going on holiday tricky, I can do 3 days MAX, then i have to go home. Steve and I have big plans for when we are old and crusty, we want to travel the world. Even when we get married one day, Steve suggested we go on a weeks honeymoon.... erm, cant we just do a weekend or something?

If anyone else has this urgency to go home, could you please explain to me what this is about?

Anyway, we got on the hottest train EVER, to go home. but i didn't care, we were going home and a warm glow burned in my tummy knowing that we were nearly there.

I hope my kids don't have this in them. I hope they take the time to sit back and chill, take the day as it is and not always be in a rush to do the next thing.

I think i need to do some research into how to just slow down. I'm manic, I tried sitting in my garden yesterday, i lasted 10 minutes and went inside to wash up.

This is a real head scratcher for me as I feel its out of my control as I don't know what its all about. I have things coming up that involves me staying over at peoples houses, or going for a bbq or a meal. How do I just sit??!!!

Someone tell me!!!!!

Laters x

Aunt Flow's Visiting

That time of the month, on the blob, the curse, on the rag, cat's had its throat cut (eww), BJ week (yeah right), fell off her bike, riding the crimson wave, the wounded clam.

Ahhh, isn't that lovely, a nice little list of slang for women's periods (the wounded clam is my favourite).

I will apologise now. I am indeed going to write a blog on PMS. This isn't me in the process of burning my bra or anything like that, its something i have and inflict on others before, erm, Aunt Flow arrives.

I get terrible PMS. It doesn't matter how great I'm feeling, how amazing my life is, PMS will come along and put a big black cloud over my head.

I don't just get a big violin playing thunderous black cloud over my head, i become constipated, my boobs look like they have been pumped up a few sizes, along with going up 2 sizes in my clothes, which hurts, I'm tired, I cry, i have a fuzzy head, forgetful, irritable, i get thrush, i have no patience, I don't want anyone to touch me, look at me, breathe near me. I get incredibly angry and i shout. ALOT.

I do try and warn people (especially Steve) around me that I'm due on. I don't walk around with a plaque, shouting through a mega phone (my gob is loud enough) announcing to the world, but when i start snipping, i do 9 times out of 10 say sorry then explain what it is. But i have a due on face that gives the game away as well. Its like a screwed up frowny heavy browed face, with lips that look like a cats bum.

Its not until it all subsides that i look back and think, hmmm, maybe that was a bit over the top.

My mum came round the other day, i was using lurpack lightest on some toast, my mum, in no horrible way or anything, just in a general chatting way said 'i don't like lurpack'.

Well,

She might as well have punched me in the kidneys, stamped on my face and called me a twat.

My angry response...

'What??? Why are you so JUDGEMENTALLLLLLLLL!!!! When did you even last try this butter?!'

Classic. Sorry Ma x

Having 3 children, also plays havoc with the ol angry dawn. For some reason, the name 'Mum' seems to triple and gets louder as my patience dwindles. I feel awful after i have shouted 'WHAT!!!!!!!' everytime they ask me a question. Its not fair, its not their fault and I hate that i make the people i love nervous of me. i don't have that right to make anyone feel that way. But its like a hot ball inside my stomach that's ready to explode. I just cant contain it after the 36th 'Mum' in the space of 5mins!

Luckily for me, Steve is very understanding and basically, doesn't say anything and kinda keeps his distance. Its safer to, or he might actually get stabbed.

My main issue with PMS is my desire to eat. Hmmm, maybe the word 'eat' is a tad to gentle for what i actually do. Gorge maybe? Gorge with added gorgeiness and fat laden sprinkles on top and lard sauce.

Last week was my PMS week. So what I'm trying to say is, last week, my diet was quietly wrapped and packed away on a shelf somewhere in a corner of my brain, for me to return to, a week or so later (which is today).

I ate, and i ate, and i ate. You know the girl in Charlie and the chocolate factory, she turns into a blueberry? That's how i felt yesterday after a week of relentless, sometimes secretive, out of control bingeing. The Umpa Lumpa's stood around represent awful the thoughts in my head. Tho, they would need to be poking me and upsetting me calling me fat and disgusting and tell me i have let myself down and indeed, THE WORLD. When i binge to this extreme, and the sluggishness of my bowel, makes me one poo filled lady. In my darker days, i abused laxatives, so i am weary of taking them now, in case i start relying on them again. But when its been 3 to 4 days of no movement and you have eaten a wheelie bin of food, man, that's alot of stuck shit.

I have done a bit of the ol' research into what helps with PMS and how to prevent it affecting your life to the extremes it can. I know it varies in women across the world. Some experience hardly any symptoms and it goes to the other extreme where women feel suicidal and have to work there lives around that 1-2 week awful time in the month.

I've tried to narrow down into a small list, what the main problems are, and how i can tackle them with the use of supplements.

1.
Cravings: Its the sweet stuff. Oh my, if i was a heroin addict, chocolate is my heroin. It gives me butterflies with excitement that i have this planned binge and chocolate and cakes are the main part of my binge.

Apparently, women's level of magnesium drops in their body. Chocolate has a high level of magnesium and that's why we tend to crave chocolate.

So i got me some of those magnesium and zinc supplements. So far, as its only been a week, Ive not noticed any drastic changes, though the taste of chocolate leaves a unpleasant metallic after taste?? Not sure if its connected, but if i can be put off chocolate, I'm a winner!

2.
Tiredness: Urgh, I could sleep standing up when I'm due on. No matter how much sleep i get, I'm still exhausted. I know that exercise is really good for well being and energy levels etc etc, but when i feel this tired and this awful id rather pluck my pubic hair out strand by strand than do any exercise.

My mum suggested a vitamin B complex. I have heard great thing about Vitamin B and i have dabbled in taking them in the past, but now I'm on it like a tramp on chips. I am dedicated to these bad boys. I have got a time released type of one. I am feeling a bit more energetic, but again, its only been a week, and it could be that Ive nearly finished my period. Curiously, my wee looks like lucozade, no matter how much water i drink....

3.
Skin and hair: I have the same spots come up on my face when I'm due on. They aren't even spots, they are these painful, tender, hills on my face, that everytime, I'm convinced that if i squeeze them, something will come out and they go away. Instead all that happens is this clear, liquid type stuff seeps out and leaves me with a massive scabby face. Me and my mate were discussing this and came to the conclusion that my spots want me to stop squeezing them so they let out a little bit of tear...

My hair, which is normally a mass of big wavy blondness, becomes greasy at the roots and the ends become dry? Why?? WHY? How do those shampoo's know that my roots are greasy and the ends are dry and they can both cleanse and moisturise? Its all a load of bollocks anyway, those shampoos don't work!
I invested in some vitamin E capsules. I'm looking forward to my next PMS session, well, maybe not looking forward, but it will be interesting to see if these supplements actually help.

I bloody hope so (ha!see what i did there)

If you have any tips or stories about PMS, drop me a line, id be genuinely interested to hear about them.

Laters x

Dawn Social Tourettes Shergold

I deleted this Blogger account and also my Facebook page and also my Twitter account the other day.

I read some people status's and links to their blogs and i think 'Oh god just shut up'. Then i had that paranoid heat wave sweep over me... 'what if people think that about me??'

Its that classic self doubt, am i good enough scenario, but also a valid point. What if I am wittering on, and people just roll their eyes and want me to shut up? But then I kinda thought as well, if people don't like what i write, then, basically, sod off!

I mean that in a loving way of course.. 'Sod off with love'

I have this, erm, endearing, lets call it, quality about me. Its something I cant control. Its something that my friends have a certain code for me, when we are out, to stop. My other half has a signal for me as well, for me to stop.

Its called

Social Tourettes.

Over all, I'm naturally chatty, open person. I tend to draw people into my space without trying. At bus stops i attract the smelly weirdo's with dogs that sniff and head butt my crotch (the dogs that is, the weirdos don't sniff and head butt my crotch. that's something else entirely). Old lady's talk to me in poundland, drunken alcoholics want to tell me their problems.
That's lovely! I must just have a nice friendliness about me.

But, when I'm nervous in a social situation, be it a wedding, my sons parent meeting at his new school, out in a pub with my mates or fella, something happens to my mouth. Its uncontrollable.

The last 2 that has happened recently are probably my worst. I think. I'm sure my bestie could and will highlight other situations. but the following 2 are ones where i put my face in my heads and shake my head with shame.

Situation 1.

Village barn dance

before the drinking and dancing

I love the village I live in, its very carefree, idyllic, very beautiful and friendly. We had a barn dance, that most of village turned out to, it was great fun, we drank we ate we danced. It was a gorgeous evening, groups of people were dotted around the field outside soaking up the last bit of sun, chatting, catching up. Rolling hills around us, a bomb fire to keep us warm. Lovely.

ahhh lovely

Weirdly, even tho i have lived in this village most of my life, i still don't know everybody. I see these people, we say good morning, but I've never actually had a conversation with them. As in any village or town, there is a unspoken divide. The riff raff in the council houses (me) and the posh people who live in mansions (absolutely not me)

So in my tipsy, giggly over danced state, i thought id make some new friends! Bugger the divide!

Enter Dawn Social Tourettes Shergold

I seek out my victim, and start chatting, all is going well, pleasantry's are exchanged, how long have you lived here? oh what a beautiful house you live in, whats that? you have 12 bedrooms and 90 bathrooms? oh how lovely! Yes i live in a council house.

Then silence. Then it happens.

I cant recall how it came about, but it involved the posh bloke doing some crouching action, something to do with loosening up his knees, this amused me. So what else is there to say?

'Urgh! it looks like you are tea bagging someone! #snort# #me laughing alot# do do do you tea bag your wife often? you must do with being able to do that crouching!'

Silence

I think my other half may have walked away at this point. And i think i may have excused myself to get another drink.

I haven't spoken to that posh bloke since.

Situation 2.

This is where my social tourettes is at its peak. The kids school. Its like something takes over my mouth, i have no control!!

At any school, the school run in the morning is busy, hectic, stressful. We all cram in the school, putting stuff on pegs, saying hello to other parents, and teachers, whilst doing that horrid licking your fingers and wiping marmite off you child's face to make them look like they have had a wash. Why do we do that? its disgusting??! Putting spit on your child's face to get them clean? I'm never doing that again!

I usually have my youngest asking me a million questions at the same time and i answer through gritted teeth and fake smile so, I'm not judged or worry someone will call social services, because what i actually want to scream is 'WILL YOU SHUT THE F##K UP!!!!!!!!' but obviously I cant. But i am saying it in my head. ALOT.

To get out of the school, it has like a bottle neck so it gets congested and you have to be polite and wait for people to come into the school before you try and get out. Stamping on other parents and children is frowned upon unfortunately.

Its in this very busy bottle neck queueing system, that 1 of the lovely mums says to me in a concerned voice

'Hey love, how are you? are you okay?'

To which i reply

'Im fine darlin, how come? why are you asking me like I've got AIDS?'

What the actual fuck?

Seriously, what is wrong with me? Where the hell did that awfulness even come from???

Luckily she knows me well enough and laughed and later told me that was the best social tourettes phrase i have said yet.

I know where i get it from. I know its in my blood. My mother has it to.

Only the other day walking through a local town called Wilton, she had a moment of unstoppable social tourettes and the more she tried to get herself out of it, the more awful bollocks came out her mouth!

It went something like this..

2 ladies walking in front of us eating a pasty. 1 of the ladies starts to choke. So my mum says 'you are meant to chew!'
the lady replied over her shoulder with some comment about that she wasn't meant to be eating a pasty as she is putting on weight and that's why she is choking on it.
#polite laughter#
mum says
'but you have a lovely bum, i wouldn't mind a bum like that'
#nervous laughter from the ladies in front#
mum says
'just to let you know I'm not a lesbian'
#more nervous laughter#
'i was just admiring your arse'
#women walk quicker and side swipe into a shop#



But there is something about me that I enjoy doing on purpose, amongst people i am comfortable with, and that's making people cringe. I'm not sure why. I take any conversation to another level, saying the things only people think briefly and wouldn't dream of saying. My fave subjects are usually to do with toilet habits, boobs, vag's, willy's, anything that makes people wish i would stop. That i can control.

Social Tourettes, is something else!

I have to go to Sports Day later. I have been asked to sell raffle tickets. that's fine, i have no problems helping out. The only thing I'm nervous about is what will come out my mouth.

Wish me (and everyone else) luck!

10 Alternative reasons to lose weight....

If you are a hardcore dieter like my very self, then you will know off by heart the risks of being over weight. Heart disease, stroke, diabetes, etc etc. these are all very serious matters. BUT if like me, you have read these facts over and over again, they kinda mean nothing to you and don't lead to any sort of motivation about losing the extra lard.

So, I've made up a little list that are real for me that is more motivating than, erm, death?

1.
Now that I have lost a bit of chub, i like that now, the top of my thighs are no longer a fire risk to my    vagina or indeed when walking down the street, people have stopped looking round confused as the cheap nylon trousers rub together make it sound like two knights are battling it out in a sword fight.



2.
When I go for a bike ride, I no longer have that paranoid worry that it looks like I'm just sat on a pole, where the seat is, as the size of my ample ass has literally flapped over all sides of the seat. it kinda reminds me of freshly rolled pasta, draping over a rolling pin

Sexy huh. Doesn't stop me having saddle ass tho, no matter how cushiony the seat is.











3.
Ahh my favourite, public toilets.
I have issues with anything kinda germy. So public toilets are pretty horrid for me, especially ones underneath car parks or in petrol stations.
Us ladies have an extra special guest in the toilet with us, and that is the sanitary towel box.
Sometimes, if you are really lucky, it wouldn't have been emptied for a few days and is over filling with other ladies erm, monthly's.
This box is usually situated right next to the toilet.
If you are on the larger side, and you need the toilet, its nearly impossible for your ass not to touch this sanitary towel box, level with the opening of where you put your used towels.
BLEUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm writing this with a wince on my face. Lose weight ladies!!!! Even if its just for this reason!! Do it for the sake of your skin not touching the box!!!!

4.
We all have them, some blokes have a version. I have them and i HATE them. but i still wear them on nights out.
Suck em in nickers/body suits/shorts/tops.
When I get ready for a night out, I'm usually quite flustered as I'm still mum, as I'm slapping makeup and straightening hair. Trying to get kids fed, into bed, praying they don't start randomly throwing up so you can still go out.
I get hot, i get blimmin cranky, face and hair are done, now i have to get dressed.
Trying to squeeze my lard into different positions and areas on my body with the help of very tight suck em in shorts. Trying to pull the shorts up as the non slip bit on the leg drags on your skin, you do that viscous hip wriggle thing from side to side to get yourself in them. They are on. I'm walking like I've shit myself but I'm in and I'm a size smaller. Then i get dressed and I'm sweating so much because i have this extra layer of tight, unnatural fitting thing on me. Urgh.
I chose not to wear these hateful things anymore. I don't feel i need to :)

5.
My wardrobe used to consist of 1 maybe 2 colours.
Black and when I'm feeling daring, maybe very dark navy blue.
I felt like i was taking part in a Queen Victoria mourning process, because i once heard somewhere a million years ago that black is slimming. I agree in some aspects, but, jeez!
When you feel good, you start adding a bit of colour here and there, maybe with a bright(er) necklace or something. I cant wait to be a bit more confident, so i can fully come out of fat mourning and look bright and fresh all the time!

6.
4 boobs and bad pants
I have a confession to make. I don't actually know my bra size. Out of stubbornness and denial throughout my dieting years, i have continued to buy bras in the same size....
The results are this... When I'm losing weight my boobs look like they are swimming in to sacks of cloth, when Ive put on weight, i have 4 boobs, where they spill out everywhere and not in a sexy way.
I still wont get my boobs measured because I'm lazy and i don't want a strange lady prodding about me jugs.
BUT i will when I've lost a bit more weight. i want to have my top draw filled with beautiful bras and knickers, though i have got better on the knickers part, i used to buy those multi pack ones from the supermarket and wouldn't buy more until the bit of material was literally hanging from the strained bit of elastic. I now have some nice pretty shorts that i got from M&S.
Don't have the same attitude as me! Bras are expensive! But if you have 4 boobs, go and get a bigger bra!

7.
Back boobs make me cry.
Mine are going down now, but when i was lumpier, it would ruin a whole outfit and for some stupid reason, as i would walk down the street, feeling very self conscience about me bod, i would look at my reflection in car windows????! WHY????? It really was a case of 'should i buy a support bra for my back?'
When i first started getting fit, i could feel the sweat and my back boobs rubbing. Its bloody awful, but the only way to avoid this, is to lose weight.

8.
Getting out of a car, for me, is one of those challenges, especially if they have low seats. you know its time to do something when you need both hands hooked over the car door or roof to heave yourself out, making that grunting noise that your nan used to make when getting out a chair.

9.
I like to paint my toe nails. I think feet, in general, are ugly and freaky. So i pretty mine up a bit. When i was bigger, id have to heave my leg up onto a table, hold my breath, move my gut out the way and stretch to my toes. Then i have to do the same with the other foot. I remember watching Friends and the character Rachel was in the sitting room, sat on her bum leaning towards her toes to paint them with that toe separator thingy. i was really envious of her being able to do this. I'm not quite at that stage yet, but i don't need to shift my gut to 1 side anymore and i cant wait to get there! I will even take a picture of me painting my toenails in the Rachel position, then i know i have made it!

10.
Getting jiggy. Monthly bonk....Lights off please, don't touch there, urgh don't look, can you hurry up, I'm keeping this tshirt on.
Ahhh fat sexy talk.
When you are over weight, your mojo goes. The thought of mustering up any sexiness is as hard as someone telling you to go for a 6mile run. God, do i have to? pft.
You lose all the closeness with your partner and they feel rejected so you do it to keep them happy. Quite sad really. I feel for Steve, i must have made him feel like pants. Being so obsessed and unhappy with your body really does effect everyone. Every compliment he gave me i would dismiss and call him a liar.
When you start moving and shrinking, things come back to life that you thought were dead and gone, and its really great!

I hope you like my list of motivational things, you can probably even relate to them! Sorry if i have made you feel ill on any of it tho....

xxx