Posted in Friends, General Issues, Life

The day I realised I was boring

It’s not a great thing to admit but I really am boring.

I’ve been living in a new town, 100 miles from my closest friends, since May and I still haven’t found a hobby or anyone to befriend.

I hate the jokey phone calls from my mother when she offers to buy me a children’s book on how to make friends.

I tried Patook and Borrowmydoggy to try to find company but neither have worked, I still haven’t met anyone, human or fluffy.


Why is it so difficult to make friends outside of University and school? I know all my other chums have managed to do it but some have moved back home so are around old friends and the others all work in professions where there are lots of people our age. Although I love my job, 3 colleagues and their families, I really would like it if they hired someone 20 years younger.


I’m in desperate need of some ideas.

Yes, I have tried googling it.


The Options


This list is not helpful but it keeps popping up.

  • I cook and clean every weekend but that’s not particularly fulfilling at the moment.


  • I already draw, paint, craft as much as I can but all too often I empty the craft draw out and sit staring at all the lovely bits and pieces without a single clue what to make.


  • I don’t want a hobby that involves technology, I’m fed up of using my laptop and phone for work and entertainment. It needs a break.


  • I don’t have time to volunteer right now.


  • Exercise is not my friend and having a life that is revolving around health and dieting is really bringing me down.


  • I can already sew and I don’t want to spend a lot of money on a sewing machine that won’t be used.


  • I’m not particularly open to going to a new crafty workshop because those things COST.

I’m stubborn and lost.

Any help would be greatly appreciated!

Posted in Clothes, Fashion, Life

Sale Shopping isn’t easy when you’re fat and broke but…

“January Sales”… Okay they start from boxing day but I still enjoy a good browse through the rails or website (preferably the website – I hate trying things on, and the snotty look you get from sales assistants when you’re not a size 2)

I’m in control of my meals and my anxiety but I’ve forgotten to monitor the shopping habit. I was hoping to stop this problem and then use the excuse of needing new clothes when (if) I lost some weight.

Plus – I’m not sure this happens to everyone – some of my pretty white work shirts have become stained where the aluminium in my deodorant has reacted. This has upset me a lot so obviously I need to replace them (the baking soda and vinegar method only works so much).

I’m trying to save money but there have been a couple of little purchases that I’m very happy with.

1. The boots!


I love these so much! My dad bought them for me to cheer me up during a little shopping trip after Christmas, I think they we about £15 – so comfortable and totally worth it! Thank you Peacocks


2. The trousers

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During the same shopping trip with my dad, I bought these, they were £4 in a sale rail at New Look.. Obviously I will need to shorten them before spring when I wear them, I have this problem with all wide leg trousers.


3. The top


Ok, not strictly a sale buy, it was a christmas gift from my mum but I still love it! It’s from Sainsburys


4. The bag


I found this in Joules at the weekend, £25 and it is beautiful (and reversible, all pink on the inside). Amazing!!!


I found a cute bomber jacket in Select but after I bought it and was waiting for delivery, I had the email saying it was out of stock. I did however pick this cute little lace top up.


I’m still looking for a simple non-padded bomber jacket if anyone comes across one.

Posted in Clothes, Fashion, Fat, Life, Random Thoughts, Thighs, Weight-loss

I don’t look like the model on the box

It’s fairly obvious when trying new clothes that you’ll never look like the woman (or man) modelling them, this however, doesn’t stop my dad pointing it out.

Whislt I was at home my dad bought me a new workout outfit. A crop top and leggings. Now I’m very grateful but he mainly did this out of guilt because he’s lost my last pair.

I love the colour, the material is the most comfortable thing I’ve probably ever worn and it will definitely be used… maybe not for what it’s intended but it’ll still be used.

This is the picture on the front of the box… and me wearing the activewear.

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The picture, apart from cropping my head out of it, hasn’t been altered in any way shape or form. My belly, arms and thighs really do look like that (even if the grey lines and the high angle hide the worst of my wobbly bits).

I wore this lovely outfit during the weekend before New Years, it’s comfy and it’s not picking up the dog hairs so I thought it’s a win-win.

Until my dad decided to absent-mindedly point out how different I looked in it from the model. I know he didn’t mean to be hurtful, but really, was the comment necessary?

It’s very obvious that I am not going to look like the picture on the box, namely because I’m about 5 inches shorter and considerably wider but also, I’m not a model!

It got me thinking….Can activewear finally be modeled by normal sized people?

I understand the fit, toned women and men on the box are more appealing and a form of “inspiration” for what you could achieve, but why can’t there be other pictures on the box too, or in the adverts, of people of every size actually working out in the clothes?

How do we know that the model looks like that through working out? They may have had cosmetic surgery, they may starve themselves everyday to fit in those clothes, or more annoyingly they may have some good genetics and a metabolism that doesn’t hate them.

No matter how many adverts show the perfect hair/full makeup model jogging in slow motion, I know that is never going to be me.

I want to see the chubby girl put the clothes on and get off the couch.

I want to see the red-faced, sweat covered man on the rowing machine.

I want to see the unfit and out of breath person on the bike.

These are the people who will motivate me, not the toned, tanned, perfect model strutting around in the tight clothes but the genuinely normal person who is trying their hardest to feel healthy.

Posted in Food, General Issues, Life

My Little New Year Nightmare

“Happy New Year”… I’m saying it to everyone and typing it on letters but for me my new year started with a bump.

I’ve spent a truly lovely Christmas at home this year. 3 hours away from my flat and work, I had a really quiet and chilled holiday season with my parents and dogs.

Leaving a week before the big day with a little bonus from work and everything tied up before I left, I drove home in my pjs at 6am with a car full of presents and a mouth full of mince-pies. All my anxiety faded and although slightly empty and looking for something new to worry about, I was blissfully happy.

That rapidly changed on Tuesday this week.


Arriving back at my flat I knew I had to make at least 4 trips from my car to the first floor carrying many bags full of all the things you acquire over christmas – not fun.

I pulled up on the double yellow lines outside my front door to empty the car into the hallway before parking it in the residents car park. A small nagging doubt had appeared in my head a few days earlier and I half expected to come home to some sort of disaster, whether that was a burglary, fire, even squatters who had taken residence. I was wrong, but what I did walk in to wasn’t great either.

The lights didn’t turn on… strange.

My wi-fi box wasn’t working… really strange.

The smell in the kitchen was… worse than strange.

At some recent point during my absence the electricity had cut off. That’s not a problem for the lights or wi-fi, it’s a problem for the fridge-freezer.

I have a habit of stocking my food to the point that I won’t need to shop for weeks.

I was heart-broken to open the freezer door and see the leaking bags of soup and frankly disgusting looking ice cream floating in draws full of red liquid seeping from various defrosted meats.

Opening the fridge I immediately shut it as the smell hit me. Something was clearly off.


I sank to the floor and pondered the decision in front of me. Collapse on the sofa and cry or deal with it.

I’m a strong independent adult (sort of).

I dealt with it.


I switched the electricity  back on and emptied out the freezer, throwing away the things that clearly couldn’t be saved and sorting through the stuff at the back that still felt cold.

I managed to salvage a few little parcels of mince and toss them into my wok along with a couple of fresh onions, garlic cloves and a can of tomatoes. Voila, 3 tubs of a base dish for spaghetti or chilli.

Now, I’m a slight sausage addict and I had bought two large packs from the butchers before coming back so I wasn’t too worried about the one’s I was throwing away. I was able to save a small tray full by throwing them into the oven to cook, then cool and wrap in foil.


I cleaned each draw from the freezer thoroughly (using a kettle for hot water as mine didn’t want to warm up) and took a deep breath before opening the fridge.

Apart from some butter and mayo nothing in the fridge needed to be there, I still pulled out each shelf and pot of jam to give them a good clean. I was just about satisfied until I spotted it. In the door was a cracked egg that had dripped from the top shelf onto those below – that was the smell.



Apart from the heart wrenching feeling I had throwing away my once frozen homemade roast beef and water filled ice lollies, I am grateful for the experience.

I am not happy about having to replace large amounts of my favourite food, I am not happy that I need a little tub of baking soda in my fridge to get rid of any residual smell


I am happy with myself.

I’m proud that I didn’t curl up in a ball and cry, that even though I felt so anxious, alone and defeated I managed to cope for the 4 hours it took to clean and still had the energy to unpack and cook a meal.

Something like this may not be difficult for a ‘normal’ person to deal with but it was for me.

It may have not been the best start to the new year but I’ve proved that I am able to deal with whatever this year throws at me.

Staying strong.


Posted in Food, Life, TV

Sunday is Soup Day

Who doesn’t love a good bowl of soup?

My usual weekends, filled with anxiety or loneliness, are currently being filled by soup.

Last weekend I had a bit of a rough day on Saturday, my worries overflowed and I spent most of the day curled into a ball watching Netflix. By Sunday I was determined to try to power through and after noticing my ever-growing round tummy in the mirror I resolved that cake was not an option.

My Sunday mornings consist of getting up around 8ish, making a milky coffee and lounging on the sofa watching the Food Network. I used to do this at home with my parents so I see no problem carrying on with the tradition now I’m living alone.

I get inspired by the smallest of things. This time it was Ree Drummand (The Pioneer Woman) cooking potato soup for her mother-in-law. I too love soup and have far too many potatoes living on top of my fridge so this was perfect. A quick call home to my mother to double-check her recipe and I was in the kitchen grabbing a pan and a potato peeler.

An hour later I had a steaming bowl of Leek and Potato soup. It reminded me of home so much I sat with a smile on my face whilst slurping away – my dad’s favourite starter and my mum’s go to dish, oh the memories I have of leek and potato soup. It’s a Christmas lunch tradition above anything else.

The easiest recipe

2 large potatoes

1 leek

1 onion

1 pint of chicken or vegetable stock

Peel, chop, boil, simmer for a little, then blend – season to taste (in my family that means add a small mountain of ground pepper)

I had bought some crusty tiger-loaf bread so this really was a treat.


This weekend, I decided to do something slightly more complicated. I’m generally directed by whatever vegetable I have in abundance that week or if something is a little past it’s best.

So… 5 parsnips, 1 large potato and an onion. After a little bit more work I had a glorious smell of curried parsnip soup steaming through my flat.

I made up a recipe

5 parsnips, 1 large potato, 1 onion

2 cloves of garlic, a heaped teaspoon of garam masala, a teaspoon of chilli paste

1 litre of chicken stock

I sweated the onion in a little butter with the garlic, then added the chopped parsnips, potato and boiling chicken stock along with the spice.

Boil, simmer and blend

For an extra treat I swirled through some cream and the dish was instantly lifted.


As my mum always told me, it takes 3 spoonfuls of parsnip soup for you to get used to it but after that it is amazing. It really was amazing.

The main issue I’ve come across is trying to dispense the remaining soup into freezable containers – I used zip lock bags, but no matter how hard I try to be neat I make a huge mess.

After 10 minutes of washing up and wiping the drips of soup off every surface in my kitchen, I sat down thoroughly content knowing that I have four bags of lovely soup in my freezer to warm me up in the coming chilly weeks.

I didn’t waste my weekend and I kept the anxiety low. A good soup sunday.

Posted in Food, General Issues, Life

Lemon-aid! What else can I cure with lemons?

I’ve been thinking… I do a lot of thinking. Weekends are the worst, I spend my time over thinking. Anxiety/depression/general grumpiness sets in.

5:30pm on Friday night I walked in to my little flat, locked the door behind me and didn’t leave until 8:30am Monday morning.

As usual, I tried to break up my weekend with baking.


In the past I have made Lemon Creme Brulee and last week Lemon Drizzle Cake.

I tried to avoid a lemon flavoured desert this weekend. Instead opting for an apple crumble… Of course I still needed the lemon juice to stop the apples from turning brown.

Simple recipe for those who care:

4oz plain flour

2oz sugar

2oz butter

Mix with hands using a rubbing motion to create a breadcrumb texture

Peel and slice 3 apples putting them into the lemon juice to stop them browning

Empty apples into baking tin

Tip the crumble on top.

25 minutes at 200 degrees

Add custard/cream/ice cream and forget all your problems.

To add to my buttery crumble I of course had a glass or two of lemonade. Not the cheap fizzy stuff from the supermarket but the still, tart, refreshing, homemade type.

Last weekend I bought 3 bottles – lemonade with citrus, lemonade with elderflower and their original lemonade… two of these bottles are now empty. This stuff is pure bliss. Thank you Hullabaloos for cheering up my afternoons.


Lemon Cures

Not only is my boredom cured by lemons and grumpiness by lemonade, I have discovered new and interesting things that are cured by the sour elixir.

On Wednesday last week I woke up in th middle of the night scratching my head, I thought that was a little strange but it was 3am and there was nothing I could do. I went back to sleep, only to wake up at 6am with blood under my nails.

After 6 years of using dry shampoo (at least once a week) I’ve suddenly become allergic to it.

How to cure my burning scalp and resulting dandruff from that night of tearing my head to pieces?    Lemon juice

On Saturday afternoon I poured a watered down lemon juice over my head and washed with my normal tea tree based shampoo. Instantly the itchiness stopped.

I have to say that although my head was still slightly scratchy, it was significantly reduced. I tried it again this morning and it seems to have cured it.


What else can I cure with lemons?

I’ve read that lemon in water helps with digestion, skin and weight-loss… I can’t believe that. If that was true surely everyone would use it.

I might still try it though…



Posted in Food, General Issues, Life

The laziest cake I’ve ever made

As 11am rolled around on Saturday morning I sat staring at my TV wondering why I dislike weekends so much. It’s not hard to understand – I’m alone and bored, I crave some social interaction or at least the structure that a weekday offers.

All too often I spend a weekend, or more commonly a Saturday, curled into a ball of sadness and anxiety watching repeated episodes of old TV shows wishing I’d made some sort of plan.

This weekend was no exception.

With a grey sky and lack of company or incentive to venture out of my little flat, I trawled through Netflix and found an interesting set of documentaries on castles in the UK (I used to live in a castle as a part of a previous job). It immediately drew me in and by mid afternoon I was 4 episodes in and struggling to tear myself from the leather-sofa-duvet-cocoon I was submerged in. Things changed after the all-too-common Saturday guilt trip phone call from my mother.

“You’ve stayed in again? You really need to get out of that flat and do something”.

I’ve come to the realisation that I need to stop this cocconing and break the habit. My usual reflex when something has upset/stressed me is to clean. Last Sunday as the weekend drew to a close, I realised I’d cleaned my flat at least 8 times over the two days and decided that cooking was going to be another release. Or at least a way of making a mess to clean and give me something to do.

Last week I was craving curry and the packet of spices and coconut milk in my cupboard were the perfect opportunity. Unfortunately a voice in my head insisted on naan bread and it wouldn’t shut up. After googling “shops open after 4pm on Sundays” and finding nothing I convinced myself they wouldn’t be difficult to make. I was wrong, the kitchen and I were covered in the stickiest substance I’ve ever dealt with, it was like soft white tar, but it gave me something to do and definitely something to clean.

In the end they turned out pretty well and if anyone has a better recipe than the one I worked from, I’d be very grateful to hear it.



This Saturday my brain decided upon cake. For some strange reason I had bought 5 lemons (I didn’t need lemons at all, I have 2 in my fruit bowl and a whole bottle of lemon juice in my cupboard) so clearly it had to be a lemon cake.


But not just any lemon cake…


Lemon Drizzle cake.


Now, I’m pretty lazy and stubborn so I stick with the easiest option.

A quick inspection of my kitchen revealed a small bag of flour, milk, eggs and sugar… and a 25p supermarket packet cake mix.

Decision made. Adding a medium egg and 6 tablespoons of water to pre-mixed ingredients is always the best option.

I made up a recipe based on some random website searches.

Empty the cake mix into a bowl, add an egg and enough water to get a gloopy batter

Zest (and swear after accidentally and painfully zesting knuckles) 2 lemons into the bowl

Add a squirt of lemon juice for good measure

Mix, covering the kitchen with flour becuase you’ve turned the mixer up too high

Pour into a butter lined loaf tin and throw in the oven at 190 degrees (UK oven) for 20 minutes


The drizzle was completely made up since all of the recipes I found included caster sugar (I don’t have any and didn’t check before I started baking).

Juice of the 2 zested lemons went into a measuring jug and into the microwave for 45 seconds to warm up

6 table spoons of sugar stirred into the juice till it dissolved.

I’ve heard that poking holes in the cake helps the drizzle to absorb so I did.

Then after pouring a large amount of drizzle on my hot cake I realised I had made a little too much so as the cake cooled I sat back on the sofa drinking the drizzle. I don’t recommend this if you’re supposed to be controlling your blood sugar levels like I am. I was bouncing off the walls for hours… but it was delicious and so worth it.

The end product was a beautiful cake, a few hours of complete hyper behaviour till the sugar wore off and a feeling of accomplishment.


On Sunday I ended up at a food festival with a friend buying sauces, alcohol and lemonade… I think I’ve got a problem with lemons.