_Welcome to the real world of my dieting experiences where I, Pearl Barley, tell it like it is ...with no frills!
I've cottoned onto this webpage millarky while surfing the net coming across others' fine works full of admiration, and I thought, though I'm a novice, I could showcase my book and talk about my life, so why not give it a go. All I pray is that folk find what I have to say worth reading to make up for the amateurish effort that now unfolds, so here goes.
I've written a book (eyes left), uniquely named to catch the eye, with a cover to match, and I like to think of it as a chocolate box that hides delights you can only imagine. Trust me to mention chocolate so early on. I'm a straight-talker; a direct speaker and I say what's on my mind about the fundamental things in life - I mean what's more fundamental than what we eat and how we eat and why we eat and all the questions about food and food addiction and weight-loss and weight-gain? Unfortunately for those such as myself, food is the enemy, but let's not get too overwrought about this.
The Fat Bag stuck between a rock cake & a hard plaice came about because of my lifelong dieting efforts. (Yes, that's plaice spelt like the fish; it's not a typo). I knew I couldn't be alone in my quest for the slimmer figure. Each rant and rave in the chapters is an honest down-to-earth look at the struggles and the sheer torture one can put oneself through just to feel good when stepping on the scales. And while I may not be 'the fat bag' of the title to my book (explanations appear towards the end of the quite humerous accounts), most constant and continual dieters know what it's like to be between a rock and a hard place when cravings undo all your good work or the fear of deprivation means the diet is put off until Monday (this coming Monday or next Monday or the Monday after that, or maybe just any Monday sometime in the next millennium) and if you haven't got your head around it and bolstered your motivation up to maximum, Monday never comes.
I didn't want my book to be too serious though, while of course it is a serious matter. Obesity isn't pretty and illnesses associated with an unhealthy lifestyle are on nobody's wish list, but sometimes the discipline can be taken a little too far, don't you think?
I hold up my hands and admit that my biggest weakness comes under the F word - FOOD. All kinds of food, mostly all food, foreign food, fast food, even healthy food. My main objective is to eat what I like, when I like, as opposed to what I should eat, since I believe it's a basic instinct and in line with my human rights. After all life is too short. Ironically though, I could render it even shorter if I ate myself into obesity ... but that's beside the point. I'm not talking about gorging myself into a bariatric hospital bed or a sugar addiction that makes my teeth rot and fall out. I'm just an ordinary every-day person who likes her food, and therein lies the rub!
I argue with the scales daily, literally the story of my life, when they insist on evidencing every single ounce I've put on, forcing me - yes, forcing me, to exercise above and beyond the call of duty just to burn off the offending CHOCOLATE/biscuits, cakes/crisps, peanuts/popcorn/strawberry sherbets, rhubarb & custard boiled sweets, CHOCOLATE, dolly mixtures/foam bananas, CHOCOLATE, and the takeaways of my choice - Chinese/Japanese, Indian/Thai and fish n chips. Crumbs, did I mention CHOCOLATE?
Where was I? The thought of oozing sticky chocolate dripping down the sides of a profiterole stuffed with thick whipped sweetened cream made me lose track for a moment there.
Oh yes, I'm here to extol the virtues of my favourite foods, which include kebabs, pizzas, and even an innocent plate of scrambled eggs done with butter and cream, and the most popular British dish known to man (and woman) the full fried English breakfast dubbed The Full Monty invoking a naked lust for this particular fry-up, yet in other quarters it's also known as a heart attack on a plate but we don't have to get too dramatic about it otherwise the santimonious among us will have a field day.
I defy anyone not to salivate at the thought of rashers of crispy bacon, fried eggs sunny side up, sausages, mushrooms, a fried slice with fried tomatoes and juicy baked beans on the side...all washed down with a lovely cup of Rosie Lee (that's 'tea' to non-Brits). Of course I do realise the vegetarian won't be sharing my abject delight but this is England and I'm sure there's a version of the full English for the herbivores amongst us. And knowing me, I'm sure if I were a vegan I'd find something 'forbidden' to binge on and I'd still be overweight. I did a pumpkin seed diet once and ended up feeling like a cross between a squirrel and a rabbit, all day engaged with getting bits of seed from between my teeth where they would lodge for days on end, even after brushing. Did I lose weight on that particular diet? Yes I did! And did I put the weight back on when I started eating normally. Yes I did!
In general though I just want foodies to have a delicious picture in their heads of their favourite food and not feel guilty about it. Food has had a very bad press of late and it's not fair!
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I would consume all my favourite foods in one day...nor even in one week, and as a matter of fact, I treat myself to a cafe lunch only once a month when I get paid, probably chops and chips, and I can't help the fact that these are the kinds of food I like and, it has to be said with regret that if there was a competition for the fastest weight-gain, I would win it hands-down! I know it's not rocket science - I only lose weight if I give up my fried and sweet delights and swap them for carrot sticks and lettuce leaves. But, alas, the only salad food I am really partial to is beetroot ...covered in dollops of tomato ketchup! It is, after all, all about the taste. I'm completely hopeless I suppose!
But in all good humour, in my aforementioned book, I have chronicled the unfairness of life wherein some people can eat what they like and not put on a pound. I also want to make the point here that many slim people are not as healthy as they may look. I've seen a lot of wobbly bottoms showing under power dressing and tubby tums on relatively thin girls - in fact, I saw a young woman once with a large double chin but she herself was skinny. How does that work? From the neck up she looked like a porker, poor thing. Aha, no-one's perfect it seems, (ha ha ha) and when I'm confronted with the uber buff and svelte, the one's with rippling muscles where no woman should have rippling muscles it's totally disheartening when I'm wheezing in the gym on the cross-trainer, sweating buckets in obvious pain looking like a badly-filled sack of potatoes while some toned and boney Miss Fitness is running for miles on a steep incline with apparent ease on the treadmill, perspiring slightly and glowing.
And in any case don't get me started on going to the gym - a pastime I've learned to loathe over time, due to the fact that I literally have to punish and suffer just to shed shed half a stone (and I've got another 28lbs to go before I even reach my target just in case you're wondering), and I always end up miserable and feeling hard-done-by, deprived of the natural nutrients of sugary and fatty foods - and I'm convinced there's still my five-a-day hidden somewhere in that lot, you know - simply because the good Lord chose to endow me with a larger than average frame, voluptuous curves and a healthy appetite to match (healthy?)
There is of course evidenced proof that I can be just as obsessive when I put my mind to it to losing weight when I get just about as disgusted with myself as I can get, when I find myself avoiding the scales and the full-length mirror, but in truth after a while, maybe several months in, I might end up slimmer, a few dress-sizes smaller, but in my experience some of my bubbly personality disappears with the pounds, and I don't feel like myself. There is no easy answer.
So it all got written down, including very-well remembered past triumphs (by fair means or foul) as well as the many flops with disastrous results spanning the last 25 years, and I'm pleased to present my book for all to see and gaffaw at. Roll your eyes or roll on the floor laughing - it's never been a walk in the park!
My hope is that a lot of people will recognise their own situation between the pages and think it's a great idea that someone at last has told it like it really is with no frills, making it easy to laugh along to an issue that many of us can relate to. I love my food - there, I've said it! You must understand one thing. Food comes knocking like that of a lover on a seduction offensive. I won't go as far as to say I drool at bakery counters and cake shop windows, but there are certain foods with the uncanny ability to call out my name loudly and drag me along by my eyeballs (with very little resistance) and I'm practically a lamb to the slaughter at any wedding, birthday party, restaurant, barbecue or breakfast/dinner table. I'm a veritable slave to my affliction. Is this normal or am I just fixating? My addiction knows no bounds and my appetite is never sated for more than a couple of hours (I'm what's known as a 'grazer', oh yes, didn't you know, they have names, labels and categories for different kinds of eaters).
We used to go to bed hungry when I was a child - money was tight, there were five of us and a cat and a dog, one parent worked days while the other worked nights, money was tight I guess, and I used to hide pilfered jam sandwiches under my pillow so my rumbling tummy wouldn't keep me awake at night. I have no idea whatsoever if that is what shaped my addiction from teenage years to my now middle-aged years, and there's the argument about whether it's hunger or emptiness, physical or emotional, but again I will say it, I know it can't just be me, and I'm here to say that as long as you're not killing yourself with it, a little of what you fancy does you good.
Go on, sing along with me "Food Glorious Food, dah dah dah dah dah dah"!
The tale of the dropped burger
I do know not all folk have quite an obsession with food that I do demonstrated very recently by my dear brother who, cheerfully eating and chatting at a family get-together, the careless chump that he is, he accidentally dropped his homemade burger (made from scratch with much creativity by my own fair hand in the preparation and barbecuing I might add) on my newly vacuumed carpet. It’s important to note that the carpet was clean, after all it could've been worse - we could've been outside on the patio.
I immediately dived for it, observing the unwritten but perfectly valid five-second rule that applies to dropped food, while he stood there, burger-less momentarily open-mouthed in shock, but almost immediately philosophical at the possible fate of the tasty morsel (I imagine he could see it in the bin already), strongly encouraging me to leave it…which, somehow, didn’t quite compute as I endeavoured with much speed and agility to save it, throwing an incredulous look in his direction simultaneously that, roughly translated, basically begged the half-finished question, "What the f...?" as I simply couldn't comprehend his calm acceptance at such a tragic loss.
And I did save it! I do so hate waste. I dusted it off, not that there was anything to dust - it had spent less than a mini-second on the floor - and I ended up eating it myself, happy in the knowledge that no dust particle or cat hair had tainted it. I was in no fear of it having been rendered unfit for human consumption. And it was all the more delicious for having been rescued!
Yet my brother looked on in horror. I have no idea if it was because I picked the burger up off the floor, or if he was dismayed by the fact that I'd reached it before he'd had a chance to get his food-loving wits about him in order to rescue it himself.
I have to say that I didn’t much care one way or the other, but my guess is that if he loved food to the extent I did, he would’ve leapt out of his seat before I had time to blink and would’ve saved it, leaping sideways like an ambitious goalie at a premier football match with the speed of the Six Million Dollar Man, catching it triumphantly inches from the floor, and then he would have replaced it lovingly back into his bun and given it an extra loving dollop of tomato ketchup (aw bless) like the true hero of the hour, before devouring it with gusto, punching the air with the well-deserved feeling of accomplishment, at having deftly adverted what could have been an unforgivable waste of good food given that there are children starving in Africa.
What? What are you looking at me like that for?
The thing is, I've concluded that normal-sized people really don't regard food in quite the way us more rotund folk do, (my brother is skinny...but of course, sod's law and all that). It's just my luck that I would have to be the short round one in the family. And you can be too thin! I'll tell you this, a skinny person looks just as bad in an item of clothing that's meant to be tight but is too loose and billows out and envelopes them as though two people should be wearing it, the same way a larger person (we don't say 'fat' these days to spare feelings, etc) looks absolutely awful in something that's way too tight.
Anyway I could rattle on and prattle on and on about this but if you've read this far, then you might want to read more about me, the author. Take a look therefore at another of my show-casing efforts - my attempt at creating a proper website http://www.authorsden.com/pearlbarley. There's more detail about my book and the background to its creation. Also links to where you can buy it. I've written other stuff too and the sequel to The Fat Bag is imminent. Plus there's a little bit more about my interests and a lot more about the plight of this yo-yo dieter, yours truly, laid bare, in all its glory! If nothing else, I hope you have a good giggle as you walk a mile in my shoes (God knows I can't tell when last I walked as far as a whole mile in my own shoes, but there you are).
Featured on The Indie Spotlight, a site for all avid readers http://www.theindiespotlight.com/ (where the independent author shines)
I also wanted to mention that most books about diets in my opinion deal with giving advice. Very few of them chronicle the efforts and the torture ever-hopeful dieters experience in the face of the lack of fabled will-power and a love for all the 'naughty' foods we know we shouldn't have. And a good many of them hardly deal with psychological connotations, or indeed deal with how to get your head round the whole dieting concept in order to be successful long-term. Sustainability is so very hard to keep up in the face of temptation and cravings. That's why I wrote for those of us who do try but fall at the many hurdles. After all, I've lost weight loads of times; I just can't keep it off!
Here's an excerpt to whet your appetite from my musings in a way many can relate to, written with my usual wit and down-to-earth, honest-to-goodness I-kid-you-not humorous situations that are so relatable, you'll wonder why it has never been written before.
”… Be careful not to fall into the trap I did once when on a marathon diet (not a 'Marathon' as used to be before it was changed to Snickers but the real no-holds-barred hard slog), doing pretty well with weight-rapidly-falling-off results. I successfully went down three dress sizes; could shop wherever I wanted and should have felt great about my body. For reasons that became apparent, I was extremely unhappy with the weight loss - the weight came off too fast and I didn't exercise ONCE. B..I..G mistake! Imagine then, if you will, the unfortunate results:
Suddenly my more-than-ample boobs looked like...forget the spaniel's ears...like empty socks! The belly flesh now lay on my lap like an empty deflated paper bag. As for my bum, well it's a good job it's at the back and I can't see it but it was decidedly less padded as I'd slimmed it down to the bare bones as-it-were. And don't get me started on the underarm `bingo wings'. (I do tend to exaggerate somewhat, but bear with me and try to conjure up the despair, but smile while you're doing it).
It seemed the only solution was, with regret, to put the weight back on hoping to lose it all again whilst exercising the vulnerable bits - boobs, tum, arms 'n' bum (I bet you can't say that quick after half a bottle of vodka).
Easy to say (putting the weight back on); easy to do (putting more weight back on) ... and a PIG to lose! (Help! I'm putting too much weight back on).
It took me only a few months to put ALL the weight back on that I'd lost, and about THREE YEARS to decide I'd filled out enough (especially as my precious bosom was back to its former glory). You don't know what you've got till it's gone comes to mind, and I'd absolutely resented losing two such good `friends' (still banging on about my boobs but I can't help it), effectively stuck between a rock cake and a hard plaice! OK yeah, I know the phrase is being 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' but it's a clever use of a popular phrase what with the play on words, and I couldn't resist attempting a clever twist.
So back to square one, I requested The Biggest Loser DVD as a Christmas present and dreamed that this, my latest experiment (ever hopeful) was going to be successful. I have made a couple of attempts at it, believe me, and I've no doubt it works for SOME - if you can stay alive, that is, but trust me, the 10-minute warm-up , no word of a lie...absolutely FINISHED ME OFF!
Will I ever win this battle with the bulge? Read some more and find out! Click on the book image at the top of this page and it will take you straight to Amazon.co.uk. The Kindle ebook is only £2.33 ($2.99 in the US), and it's also available in paperback. Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts. Are we kindred spirits? Reviews mean it will climb up the ratings and validate my efforts. I'd really appreciate that!
Here's a gentle warning: There are no quick fixes in this book, and you will find no dieting tips and no reasonable advice within the pages, but if it's an easy read and slice-of-life humour you're after, curl up in a chair with a cuppa and a plate of biscuits and get stuck in!
I've cottoned onto this webpage millarky while surfing the net coming across others' fine works full of admiration, and I thought, though I'm a novice, I could showcase my book and talk about my life, so why not give it a go. All I pray is that folk find what I have to say worth reading to make up for the amateurish effort that now unfolds, so here goes.
I've written a book (eyes left), uniquely named to catch the eye, with a cover to match, and I like to think of it as a chocolate box that hides delights you can only imagine. Trust me to mention chocolate so early on. I'm a straight-talker; a direct speaker and I say what's on my mind about the fundamental things in life - I mean what's more fundamental than what we eat and how we eat and why we eat and all the questions about food and food addiction and weight-loss and weight-gain? Unfortunately for those such as myself, food is the enemy, but let's not get too overwrought about this.
The Fat Bag stuck between a rock cake & a hard plaice came about because of my lifelong dieting efforts. (Yes, that's plaice spelt like the fish; it's not a typo). I knew I couldn't be alone in my quest for the slimmer figure. Each rant and rave in the chapters is an honest down-to-earth look at the struggles and the sheer torture one can put oneself through just to feel good when stepping on the scales. And while I may not be 'the fat bag' of the title to my book (explanations appear towards the end of the quite humerous accounts), most constant and continual dieters know what it's like to be between a rock and a hard place when cravings undo all your good work or the fear of deprivation means the diet is put off until Monday (this coming Monday or next Monday or the Monday after that, or maybe just any Monday sometime in the next millennium) and if you haven't got your head around it and bolstered your motivation up to maximum, Monday never comes.
I didn't want my book to be too serious though, while of course it is a serious matter. Obesity isn't pretty and illnesses associated with an unhealthy lifestyle are on nobody's wish list, but sometimes the discipline can be taken a little too far, don't you think?
I hold up my hands and admit that my biggest weakness comes under the F word - FOOD. All kinds of food, mostly all food, foreign food, fast food, even healthy food. My main objective is to eat what I like, when I like, as opposed to what I should eat, since I believe it's a basic instinct and in line with my human rights. After all life is too short. Ironically though, I could render it even shorter if I ate myself into obesity ... but that's beside the point. I'm not talking about gorging myself into a bariatric hospital bed or a sugar addiction that makes my teeth rot and fall out. I'm just an ordinary every-day person who likes her food, and therein lies the rub!
I argue with the scales daily, literally the story of my life, when they insist on evidencing every single ounce I've put on, forcing me - yes, forcing me, to exercise above and beyond the call of duty just to burn off the offending CHOCOLATE/biscuits, cakes/crisps, peanuts/popcorn/strawberry sherbets, rhubarb & custard boiled sweets, CHOCOLATE, dolly mixtures/foam bananas, CHOCOLATE, and the takeaways of my choice - Chinese/Japanese, Indian/Thai and fish n chips. Crumbs, did I mention CHOCOLATE?
Where was I? The thought of oozing sticky chocolate dripping down the sides of a profiterole stuffed with thick whipped sweetened cream made me lose track for a moment there.
Oh yes, I'm here to extol the virtues of my favourite foods, which include kebabs, pizzas, and even an innocent plate of scrambled eggs done with butter and cream, and the most popular British dish known to man (and woman) the full fried English breakfast dubbed The Full Monty invoking a naked lust for this particular fry-up, yet in other quarters it's also known as a heart attack on a plate but we don't have to get too dramatic about it otherwise the santimonious among us will have a field day.
I defy anyone not to salivate at the thought of rashers of crispy bacon, fried eggs sunny side up, sausages, mushrooms, a fried slice with fried tomatoes and juicy baked beans on the side...all washed down with a lovely cup of Rosie Lee (that's 'tea' to non-Brits). Of course I do realise the vegetarian won't be sharing my abject delight but this is England and I'm sure there's a version of the full English for the herbivores amongst us. And knowing me, I'm sure if I were a vegan I'd find something 'forbidden' to binge on and I'd still be overweight. I did a pumpkin seed diet once and ended up feeling like a cross between a squirrel and a rabbit, all day engaged with getting bits of seed from between my teeth where they would lodge for days on end, even after brushing. Did I lose weight on that particular diet? Yes I did! And did I put the weight back on when I started eating normally. Yes I did!
In general though I just want foodies to have a delicious picture in their heads of their favourite food and not feel guilty about it. Food has had a very bad press of late and it's not fair!
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I would consume all my favourite foods in one day...nor even in one week, and as a matter of fact, I treat myself to a cafe lunch only once a month when I get paid, probably chops and chips, and I can't help the fact that these are the kinds of food I like and, it has to be said with regret that if there was a competition for the fastest weight-gain, I would win it hands-down! I know it's not rocket science - I only lose weight if I give up my fried and sweet delights and swap them for carrot sticks and lettuce leaves. But, alas, the only salad food I am really partial to is beetroot ...covered in dollops of tomato ketchup! It is, after all, all about the taste. I'm completely hopeless I suppose!
But in all good humour, in my aforementioned book, I have chronicled the unfairness of life wherein some people can eat what they like and not put on a pound. I also want to make the point here that many slim people are not as healthy as they may look. I've seen a lot of wobbly bottoms showing under power dressing and tubby tums on relatively thin girls - in fact, I saw a young woman once with a large double chin but she herself was skinny. How does that work? From the neck up she looked like a porker, poor thing. Aha, no-one's perfect it seems, (ha ha ha) and when I'm confronted with the uber buff and svelte, the one's with rippling muscles where no woman should have rippling muscles it's totally disheartening when I'm wheezing in the gym on the cross-trainer, sweating buckets in obvious pain looking like a badly-filled sack of potatoes while some toned and boney Miss Fitness is running for miles on a steep incline with apparent ease on the treadmill, perspiring slightly and glowing.
And in any case don't get me started on going to the gym - a pastime I've learned to loathe over time, due to the fact that I literally have to punish and suffer just to shed shed half a stone (and I've got another 28lbs to go before I even reach my target just in case you're wondering), and I always end up miserable and feeling hard-done-by, deprived of the natural nutrients of sugary and fatty foods - and I'm convinced there's still my five-a-day hidden somewhere in that lot, you know - simply because the good Lord chose to endow me with a larger than average frame, voluptuous curves and a healthy appetite to match (healthy?)
There is of course evidenced proof that I can be just as obsessive when I put my mind to it to losing weight when I get just about as disgusted with myself as I can get, when I find myself avoiding the scales and the full-length mirror, but in truth after a while, maybe several months in, I might end up slimmer, a few dress-sizes smaller, but in my experience some of my bubbly personality disappears with the pounds, and I don't feel like myself. There is no easy answer.
So it all got written down, including very-well remembered past triumphs (by fair means or foul) as well as the many flops with disastrous results spanning the last 25 years, and I'm pleased to present my book for all to see and gaffaw at. Roll your eyes or roll on the floor laughing - it's never been a walk in the park!
My hope is that a lot of people will recognise their own situation between the pages and think it's a great idea that someone at last has told it like it really is with no frills, making it easy to laugh along to an issue that many of us can relate to. I love my food - there, I've said it! You must understand one thing. Food comes knocking like that of a lover on a seduction offensive. I won't go as far as to say I drool at bakery counters and cake shop windows, but there are certain foods with the uncanny ability to call out my name loudly and drag me along by my eyeballs (with very little resistance) and I'm practically a lamb to the slaughter at any wedding, birthday party, restaurant, barbecue or breakfast/dinner table. I'm a veritable slave to my affliction. Is this normal or am I just fixating? My addiction knows no bounds and my appetite is never sated for more than a couple of hours (I'm what's known as a 'grazer', oh yes, didn't you know, they have names, labels and categories for different kinds of eaters).
We used to go to bed hungry when I was a child - money was tight, there were five of us and a cat and a dog, one parent worked days while the other worked nights, money was tight I guess, and I used to hide pilfered jam sandwiches under my pillow so my rumbling tummy wouldn't keep me awake at night. I have no idea whatsoever if that is what shaped my addiction from teenage years to my now middle-aged years, and there's the argument about whether it's hunger or emptiness, physical or emotional, but again I will say it, I know it can't just be me, and I'm here to say that as long as you're not killing yourself with it, a little of what you fancy does you good.
Go on, sing along with me "Food Glorious Food, dah dah dah dah dah dah"!
The tale of the dropped burger
I do know not all folk have quite an obsession with food that I do demonstrated very recently by my dear brother who, cheerfully eating and chatting at a family get-together, the careless chump that he is, he accidentally dropped his homemade burger (made from scratch with much creativity by my own fair hand in the preparation and barbecuing I might add) on my newly vacuumed carpet. It’s important to note that the carpet was clean, after all it could've been worse - we could've been outside on the patio.
I immediately dived for it, observing the unwritten but perfectly valid five-second rule that applies to dropped food, while he stood there, burger-less momentarily open-mouthed in shock, but almost immediately philosophical at the possible fate of the tasty morsel (I imagine he could see it in the bin already), strongly encouraging me to leave it…which, somehow, didn’t quite compute as I endeavoured with much speed and agility to save it, throwing an incredulous look in his direction simultaneously that, roughly translated, basically begged the half-finished question, "What the f...?" as I simply couldn't comprehend his calm acceptance at such a tragic loss.
And I did save it! I do so hate waste. I dusted it off, not that there was anything to dust - it had spent less than a mini-second on the floor - and I ended up eating it myself, happy in the knowledge that no dust particle or cat hair had tainted it. I was in no fear of it having been rendered unfit for human consumption. And it was all the more delicious for having been rescued!
Yet my brother looked on in horror. I have no idea if it was because I picked the burger up off the floor, or if he was dismayed by the fact that I'd reached it before he'd had a chance to get his food-loving wits about him in order to rescue it himself.
I have to say that I didn’t much care one way or the other, but my guess is that if he loved food to the extent I did, he would’ve leapt out of his seat before I had time to blink and would’ve saved it, leaping sideways like an ambitious goalie at a premier football match with the speed of the Six Million Dollar Man, catching it triumphantly inches from the floor, and then he would have replaced it lovingly back into his bun and given it an extra loving dollop of tomato ketchup (aw bless) like the true hero of the hour, before devouring it with gusto, punching the air with the well-deserved feeling of accomplishment, at having deftly adverted what could have been an unforgivable waste of good food given that there are children starving in Africa.
What? What are you looking at me like that for?
The thing is, I've concluded that normal-sized people really don't regard food in quite the way us more rotund folk do, (my brother is skinny...but of course, sod's law and all that). It's just my luck that I would have to be the short round one in the family. And you can be too thin! I'll tell you this, a skinny person looks just as bad in an item of clothing that's meant to be tight but is too loose and billows out and envelopes them as though two people should be wearing it, the same way a larger person (we don't say 'fat' these days to spare feelings, etc) looks absolutely awful in something that's way too tight.
Anyway I could rattle on and prattle on and on about this but if you've read this far, then you might want to read more about me, the author. Take a look therefore at another of my show-casing efforts - my attempt at creating a proper website http://www.authorsden.com/pearlbarley. There's more detail about my book and the background to its creation. Also links to where you can buy it. I've written other stuff too and the sequel to The Fat Bag is imminent. Plus there's a little bit more about my interests and a lot more about the plight of this yo-yo dieter, yours truly, laid bare, in all its glory! If nothing else, I hope you have a good giggle as you walk a mile in my shoes (God knows I can't tell when last I walked as far as a whole mile in my own shoes, but there you are).
Featured on The Indie Spotlight, a site for all avid readers http://www.theindiespotlight.com/ (where the independent author shines)
I also wanted to mention that most books about diets in my opinion deal with giving advice. Very few of them chronicle the efforts and the torture ever-hopeful dieters experience in the face of the lack of fabled will-power and a love for all the 'naughty' foods we know we shouldn't have. And a good many of them hardly deal with psychological connotations, or indeed deal with how to get your head round the whole dieting concept in order to be successful long-term. Sustainability is so very hard to keep up in the face of temptation and cravings. That's why I wrote for those of us who do try but fall at the many hurdles. After all, I've lost weight loads of times; I just can't keep it off!
Here's an excerpt to whet your appetite from my musings in a way many can relate to, written with my usual wit and down-to-earth, honest-to-goodness I-kid-you-not humorous situations that are so relatable, you'll wonder why it has never been written before.
”… Be careful not to fall into the trap I did once when on a marathon diet (not a 'Marathon' as used to be before it was changed to Snickers but the real no-holds-barred hard slog), doing pretty well with weight-rapidly-falling-off results. I successfully went down three dress sizes; could shop wherever I wanted and should have felt great about my body. For reasons that became apparent, I was extremely unhappy with the weight loss - the weight came off too fast and I didn't exercise ONCE. B..I..G mistake! Imagine then, if you will, the unfortunate results:
Suddenly my more-than-ample boobs looked like...forget the spaniel's ears...like empty socks! The belly flesh now lay on my lap like an empty deflated paper bag. As for my bum, well it's a good job it's at the back and I can't see it but it was decidedly less padded as I'd slimmed it down to the bare bones as-it-were. And don't get me started on the underarm `bingo wings'. (I do tend to exaggerate somewhat, but bear with me and try to conjure up the despair, but smile while you're doing it).
It seemed the only solution was, with regret, to put the weight back on hoping to lose it all again whilst exercising the vulnerable bits - boobs, tum, arms 'n' bum (I bet you can't say that quick after half a bottle of vodka).
Easy to say (putting the weight back on); easy to do (putting more weight back on) ... and a PIG to lose! (Help! I'm putting too much weight back on).
It took me only a few months to put ALL the weight back on that I'd lost, and about THREE YEARS to decide I'd filled out enough (especially as my precious bosom was back to its former glory). You don't know what you've got till it's gone comes to mind, and I'd absolutely resented losing two such good `friends' (still banging on about my boobs but I can't help it), effectively stuck between a rock cake and a hard plaice! OK yeah, I know the phrase is being 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' but it's a clever use of a popular phrase what with the play on words, and I couldn't resist attempting a clever twist.
So back to square one, I requested The Biggest Loser DVD as a Christmas present and dreamed that this, my latest experiment (ever hopeful) was going to be successful. I have made a couple of attempts at it, believe me, and I've no doubt it works for SOME - if you can stay alive, that is, but trust me, the 10-minute warm-up , no word of a lie...absolutely FINISHED ME OFF!
Will I ever win this battle with the bulge? Read some more and find out! Click on the book image at the top of this page and it will take you straight to Amazon.co.uk. The Kindle ebook is only £2.33 ($2.99 in the US), and it's also available in paperback. Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts. Are we kindred spirits? Reviews mean it will climb up the ratings and validate my efforts. I'd really appreciate that!
Here's a gentle warning: There are no quick fixes in this book, and you will find no dieting tips and no reasonable advice within the pages, but if it's an easy read and slice-of-life humour you're after, curl up in a chair with a cuppa and a plate of biscuits and get stuck in!