I'm Coco-NUTS for this Health Tip

Interesting Fact: During the Vietnam War when medics ran out of IV solutions, they substituted with coconut water (also known as young coconut juice), to treat the injured on the brink of death and buy them time until they could be transferred to another medical facility or more supplies arrived. The coconut water was infused straight into patient’s veins as they would with any other IV fluid. This technique was successful because coconut water has an electrolyte balance very similar to that of human blood plasma and so was able to keep patients hydrated and their blood pressure stable.

How is this relevant to me? Well, sometimes after a workout, no matter how much water I guzzle down, I will develop mild to moderate headaches. This is where Gatorade and other sports drinks usually step in. As tri-athlete Chris Legh lets us know in the latest television advertisement, Gatorade is a dehydration (and dehydration headache) buster due to all it’s fancy pancy scientifically developed electrolyte balance.

Sports drinks? I thought you were talking about coconut water. Stay on topic Diet Queen.

Ok, ok. You may have heard before coconut water, with its naturally occurring electrolyte balance so similar to our own blood, is nature’s sports drink. I think coconut water blows Gatorade and the like out of the…. water. Apart from its hydrating magnificence, it tastes yummy, it keeps in the fridge for ages, you can scoop out and eat the tasty flesh and it has plenty of naturally occurring minerals and vitamins and other beneficial constituents that I’ve read about, but I’m not inclined to regurgitate on to this page for you.


They’re also fun to drink along side homemade Thai for a feeling of smug authenticity.

One slight disadvantage is they do not have a screw off lid like a sports drink bottle. When I was first confronted with an entire young coconut and it’s hidden water treasure, I was stumped as to how to open it. Then I stumbled across this delightful video, opening your first young coconut is a very rewarding experience

So, thank you immature coconuts for fighting my post workout dehydration.

Dieting: 19th Century Style

I have rediscovered the humble Cucumber Sandwich. Not that it ever disappeared. I hadn't eaten one for years....... and now I have. And boy it was goooood. Cooling refreshing cucumbers are the perfect food to be eating during this ridiculous heatwave.

If you look at the traditional cucumber sandwich, commonly served alongside tea, you won't find much nutrition in crust-less white bread with butter salt and thin slices of skinless cucumber, and not to mention it won't be particularly filling.

I created my own modern, healthy and a bit more hearty version with wholemeal wholegrain bread (crusts on), a smidge of butter, a teensy sprinkle of salt and chockablock full of cucumber. This will no doubt have British purists spitting out their precise blend of Earl Grey in shock and disgust.

Nevertheless I will continue to eat my criminal cucumber sandwiches and still feel like Victorian aristocracy.

Super Weird Ass Yet Yummy Recipe

This is a dish that my boyfriend's mum made for him as a young lad. He then decided to make it for me one night. At first I thought he was mildly nuts, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. This meal is a piece of cake to prepare and remains our What The Feck Are We Going To Cook For Dinner Tonight go-to recipe.


Ingredients (very non proper style)

Steamed/boiled white rice for 2 (I use Basmati because it's GI is lower than other types)

2 fillets of a white fish of your choice

Fish sauce

2 tomatoes diced

1/2 a Spanish (red) onion diced



Pan fry the fish, when cooked flake it apart with a fork.

Mix flaked fish through the rice and serve onto two plates.

Mix diced tomato and onion in a bowl, mix in 1 - 2 tablespoons of fish sauce, or to taste.

Dish the tomato onion mixture over the fish and rice.

Enjoy!



This recipe doesn't appear to be rather unhealthy either, just watch your serving, and be careful of the fish sauce as it's high in salt.

I really think this dish is yummy, easy and most of all I love the combination of the hot and cold ingredients.

Try it if you dare.

Maybe I'll upload a picture of the divine dish next time I make it.

Honesty is NOT the best policy. Sometimes it is a policy that makes me want to punch you in the face.

No, no, no. I would never really punch anyone in the face. I'm very non-violent. I'm actually quite a wuss. I cried while watching The Lion King. But that is beside the point. I will get to my point in a few paragraphs.

I spent most of last weekend strolling around Manly Beach, the weather was perfect for such an occasion. It was hard not to notice the bronzed, svelte, bikini clad, young women frolicking about the beach, playing beach volleyball. I wouldn't say I was jealous (I'm not about to commit one of the Seven Deadly Sins), and I support their proud display of skin not cursed with cellulite, but I would say that after seeing said bronzed beauties, I have never before so quickly refused a detour through Ben & Jerry's.

After carefully eyeing boyfriend to discern his line of sight (ie better not be towards certain beach goers), I decided I would buy a shiny new cossi, in some flippant attempt to have a trendy bikini magically transform my body into something that could rival Cheyenne Tozzi's.

I shimmied my way over to The Big Swim, and found half a dozen cute bikinis (that all looked great on the ad's model) to try on. Half way through I was sweating up a storm, all flustered, not knowing what damn bikini was worth handing over part of my tax return. So, I called out to The Boyfriend (aka TDH) for a bit of advice. He just stood there, with his giant head peering over my change room door while I modelled the array of swimwear I had selected. What I received was not what a girl wants to hear.

That top flattens out your boobs.

You seriously like those ruffles?

That does nothing for your figure.

That colour doesn't suit you.

Nah. Pass.

Bless his cotton socks, I know he thought he was doing the right thing, ensuring when I finally braved the world in the carefully selected bikini, I wouldn't look like a sure fool.

However, honestly I have to say there could have been a tad more tact applied. He may have been grumpy because it was too hot and he wanted ice-cream, but all he had to do was say which one he liked and all the good things about it.

The Punch have come out with some articles about men's perspectives on women and body image: Guys talk about female body image; Fat bottomed girls you make the rockin’ world go round; This girl looks normal: The 100 man body image survey.

Guys, you need to learn, when it comes to women and your opinion on our bodies YOU CAN NEVER WIN, even when you are sure we'll swoon at your compliments. Every single woman has a different relationship with their own body, some women battling and some women content. Sometimes you just need to keep your pie holes shut and save yourself an argument with your significant other.

Back to my bikini dilemma. Finally I chose a floral bikini from JETS Swimwear (one that according to The Boyfriend worked well with my bountiful bosom). I found the the floral top and bottoms a bit too matchy-matchy so I paired the JETS top (image is slightly different colour to the one I took home) with a lovely Watersun Swimwear brief in a colour they call Poppy. The sales assistant was very impressed with my combination, and I continue to believe I am a fashion genius.

Now here is a very funny picture I whipped up on ol' faithful Microsoft Paint to give you an idea (I haven't even used Paint since I was about fourteen but I'm not bothering with photoshop or illustrator or any such application on my ancient lappy, I am still waiting patiently for a Mac.... please Santa, I hope you're reading this):

Don't mind the semi-dude-bashing, I have nothing against the male species, who else would explain to me what the hell is going on in a cricket match.

You need to get your eyes checked.

A wise man once said to me Put down the cracker, that Philadelphia cream cheese is mouldy.

Yo, Gramps, get with the times. This this be Sweet Chili Philly. It's delish, you should give it a go.

Mould can be red too, you know, toots.

The above account may be false.

What actually occurred was someone (definitely not me) in fact did mistake mouldy plain Philly spread for Philly with Sweet Chili and ate it..... AND ENJOYED IT.

I'm gonna get killed for leaking that one.

Always read labels.

Kicking my Street Cred up a notch.

Sometimes I feel like a bit of a schmuck having a diet blog. Especially after the Ralph Lauren fiasco, and now that the ever so stunning Gemma Ward has been labeled fat. But then it's not really all about diet, I just want to be healthy and happy in my skin, which after years of poisoning my body with refined sugar and saturated fat, may take some time. Even the title of this blog makes me cringe ever so slightly, but I'm just a girl that likes a play on words.

Whatevs (das rite, I be down wif da cool n' hip lingo, gots keep up my Street Cred), it doesn't matter what niche blog I create, when it's really all just an elaborate cover for subliminal messages to buy a particular brand of pet food.

*Please not there are no subliminal messages contained within the pages of ConfessionsofaDietQueen.

YVAN EHT NIOJ

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.

These are a few of my favourite places (not things as the title implies).

After being bummed from missing out on The Best Opportunity of My Life, I remembered some advice a friend gave about going to a Happy Place. Whenever she felt stressed or down she would go to Spotlight ‘cause they have the best range of craft and party supplies, and boy does she love planning and throwing themed parties.

Here’s a list of my Happy Places:

Any bookstore. I love books. I love reading books. I love getting lost in a world of ink and paper. I love seeing books lined across my bookshelf. I love the ten books I am reading simultaneously all perched on my bedside table. I think it’s something that’s been ingrained since childhood. Some of my fondest memories as a child are of curling up on a beanbag in the company of Enid Blyton or Roald Dahl. Moral of the story, get your kids reading books, it’s da bomb.

Oriental grocery stores. It’s like going on holiday to Continental Asia within a 5km radius of your home. I stroll around those stores in awe and wonder. Taking in everything that is so different (and zany) from my own culture. Everything is lychee or mango flavoured, and I love lychee. Also in this magical place purple means taro, not grape or blackcurrant, and I like that too. A trip to my local Oriental Grocery store always has me coming home with bright green Pandan flavoured sweet sticky rice. Sometimes I wish I was Chinese (well not really).

Priceline. I may have once been an awkward Tomboy embarrassed by my blossoming little boobies. But while still maintaining my love of Star Wars I have embraced all things girlie. There you can buy almost any product you could need for your Sunday night beauty routine. Plus it has a chocolate isle. What else could a girl want? (I was contemplating the David Jones and Myer cosmetics floor but sometimes I find them a bit intimidating, especially when it feels like you are running a gauntlet, dodging a perfume spritzer girl at every counter.)

Ok, so all those places are actually retail outlets. What can I say? I am Consumer hear me roar. But I now have a non-capitalist place to add to the list.

My very own balcony. This balcony is in not any way new. It’s a grey slab of concrete I am very familiar with. But only now have we added a table, two chairs a few potted plants and my very own little herb garden. It is such an inviting place and now an extension of our home. With Summer a mere nanosecond away, there is nothing more pleasant that sitting outside amongst a bit of greenery, under the warm rising sun and enjoying breakfast with a loved one. Or reading a book outside as dusk is setting in and the air is becoming just that much cooler.

Sometimes when it feels like everything is turning to Shite, it helps to think about the small things (and places) in life that can bring a smile to your face.

What’s your Happy Place?

Tiffany: making my butt look fat.

Have you read Does This Clutter Make My Butt Look Fat? By Peter Walsh? No. Me neither. Although I do like the premise behind the book. De-cluttering home and organising life, leads to changes for a better life, leads to better health and weight loss. So with that in mind (as well as a lot of nagging from boyfriend) I decided to do a bit of spring cleaning, and as a matter of fact we are actually in the late stages of Spring and summer is nigh, so no better time to start than now (that's right I'm taliking to You, get up off your arse and find the vacuum cleaner).

Anyhoo, I was taking out a stack of woman's magazines to the recycling bin and came across the October 12, 2009 issue of Who magazine.




This is Tiffany the runner-up from season 4 of Biggest Loser Australia: Couples, her partner on the show and Father In-law Bob, was the winner. She lost a total of 54.1kg.

She looks FREAKIN AMAZING!!!

There is hope for me (and us all) yet.

But maybe less hope for me 'cause I just ate chocolate covered peanuts for breakfast.

Diet Queen

Bright Ideas, Sad Days and Textbook Romance.

I had an epiphany today. I realised most of my blog-est ideas come to me while I’m doing the dishes. Scroll through this blog and do the math in your head. Yes, I wash up once a week. I have even developed an equation for my remarkable discovery:

Where wu = washing up and bi = blogging ideas then,

↑ wu = ↑ bi = happier boyfriend (aka TDH)

Actually, I have come up with two ideas for great novels to write with dishcloth in hand. But you know what They say. Oh, you don’t. Let me enlighten you ‘Can’t even wash the dishes, then fat chance writing a whole book’. They don’t say that? Just give it a couple of weeks to catch on.

Now onto another note. Today, apart from my Blog Ideas Equation, has been an exceptionally craptacular day. My diet was especially pitiful. I have consumed Twisties, a Curly Wurly (ol'skool) and a cup of coffee (while doing the dishes and dirty dish water splashed in it but I drank it anyway!) Oh, wait. Yes, and pasta salad. Don’t let the salad part fool you. It contains basically pasta, creamy mayo and about 0.08% RDI of vegetables.

Anyway this is comfort food to a sad little elf (ie. Me). I’ve been feeling so shite because I entered a writing competition, and earlier this week I found I had two missed calls from a private number. I have convinced myself I was in the running to win but didn’t get to the last stages ‘cause I fail to answer the call asking to meet me. Maybe they would email me then. But paranoid me believes I submitted the wrong email. Well I do have one consoling thought. It was probably just debt collectors chasing up a credit card payment. Actually not so consoling.

Great way to comfort self, is with a great book. ATM I’m reading the uplifting book Textbook Romance by Zoë Foster. Why would I, with such a fantastic, tolerant, and handsome BF need to read a romance/dating guide? (Not meaning to sound like a smug bi-atch, just putting out to the Universe my appreciation for such a standup fella.) Well, I guess I don’t really, but I love her style of writing so much, I just had to buy it. I could tell it was just longing for place on my bedside table/handbag/next to the loo.

What’s great about the book is that you don’t even need to be a struggling single to read it. TR is so inspirational it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, plain and simply for being this magnificent creature called Feline. Our fierce eyes, sharp claws and coveted ability to clean entire body with own tongue. Sorry, my mistake. I mean Female, Female. And now I have the strange desire to read a whole lotta self help books and create a vision board.

Also forgot to mention Hamish Blake's high-larious scrawls/commentary along the margin (of TR). He is a Hoot n' a Half!

Haven’t even finished TR yet. Too good. Savoring it. More details on completion.

And need it to keep the mopes at bay.

Just typing up this post and getting everything off my chest has already helped. Now I remember why an emotional brick wall like myself started blogging.

Diet Queen

Get Thee to Thy Gym

As someone that brings home a below average income, I really understand how trying to get in shape can siphon savings from your bank account. Of course being active doesn’t have to be expensive eg. walk/jog/run outdoors, use your surroundings to your advantage like steps, hills, park benches etc. Plus healthy foods (ie whole grains, fresh fruit and veges) are really cheaper that processed packaged foods. Yes, yes, yes, we’ve all been told before. Well if I know all this then why am I complaining my struggle for weight loss is emptying my wallet? Here’s why:

1. Am I supposed to exercise for free outdoors in the freezing winter or when it’s raining?
2. Paying for a gym membership guilts you into exercising when you’re about to give up, so you’re not wasting all that mullah.
3. If you get as bored and restless as quickly as I do then appeal of walking/jogging around the block for the hundredth time is equivalent to grating my face off.
4. Apartment does not permit for pets, hence no furry creature to take for walks.
5. Way too embarrassed (and apartment way too small) to be bouncing around indoors in front of TDH while Denise Austin is kicking it in my DVD player.
   

So for all these reasons I have chosen to forgo a few luxuries so I can afford the flexibility and variety provided by the gym.

There is one more point I would like to make. Being slightly financially challenged I thought I would be the last person on Earth to pay for Personal Training. Well after my three initial free PT sessions setup through my new gym membership, I impulsively decided to buy twelve more sessions upfront for six hundred smackeroos. Honestly it’s not something I know I can really afford but I will make some cut backs, like never paying for coffee again, all lunches will be prepared at home and charging my boyfriend for hugs… and more. However my first three training sessions tell me this experience will be well worth the money. Here’s why, in another list I prepared earlier:

1. I know I wont weasel my way out of going, I’ve made a commitment to my trainer and I feel obliged to fulfill my appointments and not waste his time.
2. He pushes me so much more than I could myself and I can feel my body reaping the benefits, my muscles are still sore for days after one workout.
3. I can do cardio till the cows come home, but I despise weight training (especially upper body), even though I know how important it is for maintaining weight loss. So completing mostly weight conditioning with my trainer means I don’t have to so much in my own workouts.
4. Also ‘cause my trainer pushes me so hard, when I come home I am as high as a kite on endorphins.

Now I know I can’t afford this forever but twelve weeks to help kick my butt into action and maybe gain a few good tips and routines is definitely worth it. Maybe I’ll try out his group (and less expensive) training sessions when my twelve weeks is up.

Personal Training is not for everyone, but this is a short term process to aid in reaching my long term goals.

Diet Queen

Motivation. Now sold is gel and spray varieties.

If you’re anything like me then I bet you put everything off until ‘tomorrow’, including going to the gym and actually cooking and eating all those veges you bought in some uncharacteristically healthy state of consciousness.

If only an unrelenting motivation to eat healthily and work-out could be acquired through say a monthly injection, maybe an inhaler or possibly a topical gel. Sadly there is no such method to get motivated (Prozac I hear you say….) it’s really up to the individual wanting it enough or the individual enviously gazing at enough half-naked images of Miranda Kerr. But don’t fret, for I have found a surefire way guaranteed to get you to drop that bag of Doritos and make a beeline to your nearest spin class.

I was recently shopping at Myer and decided to try on a lovely Country Road ensemble. When I entered the dressing room, I thought I had mistakenly walked into a House of Mirrors at a poorly located fair. In one corner of the room four mirrors were connected to form half an octagon, and opposite that reflective hell was another single mirror.

Let me tell you, there was no neck straining to see what my arse really looks like in that clingy skirt. Last’s nights dinner was on display in all it’s glory under fluorescent lighting right there smack bang on my hips. Never before have I been quite so horrified by my own reflection.

Needless to say I bolted from said dressing room and was sweating it out on a treadmill that very afternoon.

So if you don’t quite have the drive to get off your butt and make the most of that pricey gym membership then may I suggest you make a short trip to your nearest department store and step into The Little Dressing Room of Horrors.

Diet Queen

It’s quite obvious I have not been around for the past few weeks. Let me fill you in. I was involved in navigating an expedition to locate and plot the edges of Earth. Well, it turns out the earth is in fact round and not at all flat. And, there is a little something called gravity which keeps our feet and houses firmly planted on the ground (and prevents our skirt hems from floating around our ears). Who would have thought? Case closed.

I had a few different blogs up my sleeve but today I want to condense them and cram them all into today’s blog:

1. Everyone knows Google is pretty fantabulous. I mean of all the blogging platforms I chose their very own Blogger. And I’m sure glad I did because I just discovered with this one account I can access so much more than I ever dreamed possible. Now having only just been made aware of all these new tricks I can do, which the entire online population probably already know, makes me feel about eighty instead of twenty five, makes me feel like my mum who is still learning to text/sms (and has subsequently given up – voice calls only), makes me feel like someone who still uses floppy disks, makes me feel like…..um….. insert something very very witty . OK so it is obvious I’m a leeetle bit behind. But anyway, I’m giving a shout out to Google Calendar (which took me hours to figure out how to stick in my blog) and Google Docs. With your one Google account you can create calendars and spreadsheets to keep on top of your gym schedule and track your progress with say a food journal (or whatever factor of your life that you are trying to get organised). It’s all too easy, you can edit them at any time wherever you like ('wherever?' you say… yes, even if you are a baboon at San Diego Zoo)

2. I completed my first of three personal training sessions at the gym. This one was just for the PT to get an idea of my fitness. Turns out my bio age is 23 while I’m actually twenty five, yay for me. Actually, I think I may have made my diet sound a bit better than it actually is, but he said my super duper awesome healthy blood pressure is what actually gave me such good results. Now, I haven’t weighed myself in almost a year, I have been avoiding it at all costs. But it was important to finally record my weight so I would have some sort of goal to work towards. Without further ado, I am ……………..63kg (no shoes), and being 159cm short my BMI is calculated as 24.96. A BMI of 25+ is classed as overweight with an elevated risk of weight associated disease. Looks like my self imposed weight loss intervention is not a moment to soon.

3. There was one more thought that I felt compelled to put out there. But I can’t remember anymore since I have been sick for the past week and my brain has turned to mush with the onset of several debilitating migraines. I honestly was starting to fear swine flu, but now that the head pain is down to a dull throb I think I’m on the mend.

Stay tuned for more positive gym outcomes.

Diet Queen

I never thought I'd see the day.

There are two types of people. There are Fitness First members and then there are those who scoff and murmur ‘Tosser’ under their breath whenever someone sporting a Fitness First backpack is in sight. Apologies to those that belong to the church of FF, we’re probably so mean because deep down inside we’re really just jealous.

I always pigeon holed people with FF backpacks as suckers. Either they have so much money to throw around they don’t care about any extra 'fine print' costs they have to pay or they are some gullible sap that just sit and nod as the rep trying to sell the membership uses some fancy terms to disguise the ‘locked in’ clause of the contract. And then there are those fitness fanatics whose life revolves around protein shakes and this elite club called Fitness First.

Well ladies and gentlemen, today I officially became a sucker. In my effort to become healthy and lose weight I obviously have to commit to some sort of physical activity, and having previously enjoyed the experience of gym classes I decided to join a gym again. I had been reluctant to join any gym as the apartment block I live in has a mini gym accessible to all residents. It consists of a treadmill, an ancient elliptical cross trainer, a bike that blows years of dust build up in your face as you pedal and one of those ‘does everything’ weight machines. In that room the only equipment that actually seems useful for me is the treadmill, and that just won’t do, I need more variety. Now not being particularly financially advantaged I thought why pay for a gym membership when that mini gym is clearly incorporated within my fortnightly rent.

Well, there comes a point in a women’s life when you feel so shit about your appearance that you don’t care what it will cost just to obtain a bit of self-esteem. So I emailed a few gyms in the area for fee estimates, some were reasonably priced, with minimal facilities or some were quite expensive because they were personal trainer based. Now FF don’t just send you their membership prices willy nilly. Their sneaky marketing strategy gets you through the door first before they let you know how much they’ll be sucking from your wallet.

I brought TDH along with me to my FF consultation just so suggestible little Diet Queen doesn’t lock herself into their platinum membership for five years. Well the first impression of that particular FF was quite…um….impressive, including a minor celebrity sighting of none other than trainer Shannon from Australia’s Biggest Loser. Later I found out that Shannon actually runs some of the spin class sessions. I was sold!

Ok well Shannon wasn’t really the reason I joined that particular FF. They are about $7 a week more than the other gym I was considering, but their facilities were a lot more encouraging. Also with some haggling (and pleading poverty) I got the cute little nerdy rep to ditch the $100 membership fee (which I'm sure they always do to seal the deal). And the icing on the cake is that I can walk to the gym in under two minutes, thus reducing my carbon foot print (as I’d have to drive ten minutes to the other gym).

In conclusion I am losing weight to minimise carbon emissions and save the earth.

Diet Queen

'Ooooh. He card read good!'

Ok, so that title has absolutely no relevance to the content of this blog post. I just like to randomly quote The Simpson's.

I am going to blame several blackouts in my area for the lack of posts. Now that TDH is having his midday nap I can have my laptop all to myself with no distractions.

Ahhh this old HP lappy is driving me bananas. Someone give me a Mac Air. Pleeeaaase!

Basically I think globalisation can be blamed for making the western world fat (and the developing world malnourished). No self accountability in this blog, so sir-ree bob! And here is my explanation of Supermarket Chain contribution to obesity:

Before even starting this blog Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome and I went grocery shopping at our local Woolies. Lo and behold thirty can boxes of Coke were significantly reduced. Prior to this TDH and I would run down to the shops and purchase a 1.25L bottle of coke whenever we had a hankering… quite inconvenient. So it seemed logical to save some money and some time to buy the thirty can box (unless you are someone that believes you can develop Alshiemers disease by drinking out of aluminium cans, hmm, further investigation required). Well, within about 2-3 weeks the box was empty. Now I’m not too sure but that seems like A LOT of sugary caffeine to go through in a few weeks.

Anyway a couple of days ago again at the local Woolies if you bought two boxes of Coke cans there would be a whopping $20 saving. Ca-ching! After much deliberation TDH talked me out of the purchase, knowing we would drink it all too quilckly. How ironic. TDH (the junk food feind), talked me (the woman with a diet blog) out of a large insulin inducing investment (go alliteration!).

The question is, would I really have been so attracted to that plethora of Coke had there not been such a substantial monetary saving, especially during these financial times? OR am I becoming like my dad, who grew up a few years after the great depression and learnt to stock up on cheap canned goods? He still does to this day, not just cans anymore. He buys a large range of prepackaged items to stock, just as long as they are on sale. And as usual a mini dispute will eventually erupt between my parents as Mum clears out the pantry and thows away much of Dad’s stash that has now expired.

Is this my future?! Or dad should I be thanking you, because now I have come to the realisation not to buy in bulk just to save a bit of cash, inturn saving me from becoming the crazy tin-can lady (with the added bonus of saving my waistline from not drinking all that Coke).

Note to self: sugary, caffeinated, carbonated beverages are NOT part of a healthy diet anyway!!

Diet Queen

The Confessional: Year 9 Shenanigans

My secondary education took place at a catholic all girls school. It was a great school, we spent A LOT of time raising money and collecting food and clothing for charities, especially the St. Vincent De Paul Society. When I was fourteen and in grade nine, my good friend, let's call her Eski (she is a gorgeous exotic looking girl whose ethnic background is very hard to pick, which when meeting new people results in some kind of racial guessing game, the funniest answer being Eskimo. For the record her parents are South American, and she will tell you she is Aussie through and through), was involved in our schools Vinnie's society.

Members of the Vinnie's Society were asked to bake a cake and bring it in to be sold as individual slices to raise money. Eski (eleven years later and still my extremely close friend) didn't bake a cake. Her mum took her to the Sara Lee factory outlet and bought a huge slab of chocolate cake at a very low low price. Similar to the one pictured below.

I don't really recall the circumstances of that fateful day. I don't remember why Eski didn't go at lunch time to meet with the rest of the Vinnie's members. I don't know what cutting and eating utensils we had on us. I don't know what was in the sandwich I avoided eating. But I do remember (oh yes, I remember clearly) our group of about eight girls sitting on our hill, under the beautiful conifer trees. And I remember how we ate that entire cake! We were really quite amused by this unlikely event and our sugar high resulted in fits of giggles.

Come to think of it I can't even remember if that cake was really going to be used to raise money or if the Vinnie's Society were having an end of year party and just going to eat it anyway. I'll have to ask Eski about that. Whichever one we were still quite naughty.

Sorry Jesus.

Diet Queen

Anything you need to own up to?

Does love make us fat?

Ahhh! I told myself if I want to get anywhere with this blogging business, I would have to blog EVERY day. So much for that. The whole weekend gone by without a single glance at the computer. Well what more can you expect when you have a weekend full of visiting relatives, baby showers and the birthday of an incredibly cute four year old niece. Want some irony? All party guests had to bring a spectacular home made party hat, that would then be entered into a hat competition. Yours truly, 'Diet Queen', decorated her hat with edible treats like marshmallows, licorice and sprinkles. Everyone thought it was a cake. Maybe I will never escape my affinity to sweets.

Above is the aforementioned masterpiece of a party hat. The cardboard is visible where it is starting to fall apart. Unfortunately I did not win and did not receive the paddle and rubber ball prize.

Back to my topic of discussion. Does love make us fat? Sure as hell it does, well that's my argument anyway so let me enlighten you.

At the end of one of my previous blog entries I mentioned that at one time I was healthy and happy with my size. My life was on a roll. Living with two fun loving gals. Check. Going to the gym regularly, enjoying various classes, eating healthy and fitting into my skinny jeans. Check. Managing part time work plus university studies. Check.

Cue Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome (or TDH as I will now refer to him - and let me tell you he does tick all three boxes, he has a gorgeous mocha complexion which I hope our future offspring inherit), my current boyfriend, the love of my life and the person I attribute as the catalyst for the demise of my dedication to exercise and wholegrain pasta.

Really when it’s all said and done my actions are my responsibility and obviously it’s my own fault that I strayed from my commitment to a healthy lifestyle. However, I would just once like to indulge this fantasy theory.

It starts out as a few high calorie romantic dinners, then its followed by takeout on the couch watching So You Think You Can Dance (Jeez I love that show, I wish I could move my body in a way that doesn't just look some floundering fish out of water) with ice cream covered in Ice-magic as dessert. Usually I wouldn't have indulged so much in ice-cream, but I didn't want to come across as a high maintenance diva that would only eat salad and cardboard. TDH wanted a real girl, and how more real can you get than stuffing your face with sugary, flavoured, thickened cow juice? Then, bloody men and their high metabolisms sit and eat all the junk that they like, making offerings to you that are kindly refused. However, he insists you try some which all ends up leading to some joke about how he is your feeder. How sick is that?

That is just how they up the ante on your calorie intake. Next comes the disablement of any calorie burning activity (except the one they find most gratifying... wink, wink). Mind you this is something they can't control as it is basically due to you being besotted by their genetic perfection. So either you can gear up in your gym wear, charge you ipod, pack your towel and water, brave the cold outside, drive to the gym and then run, with no destination, on the treadmill. OR you could cuddle up to your very own TDH and ogle him as he tickles you and pays you sweet compliments. I will always pick the latter, especially during that honeymoon stage where you never want to leave each others side. Now even two years into the relationship, he is still such a sweetie-pie I can't tear myself away from him and leave him on his lonesome to pay a visit to the treadmill.

Maybe some other women can muster the strength to bid their loved one good-bye as they are sent forth to battle their own abs, quads, hammies and glutes. Although now TDH sees how much my weight gain is getting me down, I don't think he'll mind the abandonment so much should I chose to do so. But I don't know if I'll ever have the will power to resist TDH's offerings of pre and post dinner snacks.

Diet Queen

PS true story below

TDH's Friend: 'Would you break up with Diet Queen if she got really fat?'
TDH: 'No.'
Friend: 'Really?'
TDH: 'I don't have to worry about that because Diet Queen really takes care of herself.'
Diet Queen: 'Shit!'

Zoe's the bee's knees.

O.K, so I know this blog is still just a foetus and absolutely NO ONE reads it and way I'm too scared to send it to all my friends and say 'Get a load of this!', but I'm going to type away like I have a Perez readership following anyway.

When I was younger in my 'let's party every weekend' phase at about the age of twenty, I was known as the Beauty Guru. Not because I was some budding Napoleon Perdis but because I was good at remembering all the beauty tips from the variety of cosmo-esque magazines that I would read, and equally as good at regurgitating this information while the girls and I got ready for a big night on the town, sounding like the Stephen Hawking of beauty (minus the synthesised voice - no offense Stephen).

So it is evident I have a long standing love for all things pretty, girly and beauty related. Plus I think taking care of yourself and being comfortable in your skin is part of a positive lifestyle.

Now this is all a segue into a new beauty discovery I made. I realised I have a mega girl crush on the Editor in Chief of the awesome online beauty resource http://www.primped.com.au/, Zoe Foster, whose blog I follow religiously. She has even written a book called Air Kisses, which I am determined to buy and review as soon as the latest edition comes out at the end of this month.

I think I may channel all my beauty and Zoe mania into regular beauty blogs dispersed throughout my lifestyle blogs. And this will be the first one!

About two months ago I started going through an all natural skin care phase. The products have tended to be a bit more exy than my usual Priceline buys but my skin has never looked better! Honest to God.

Here's a few of the gems I have unearthed:

• Origins Modern Friction available at Kit Cosmetics - I was told that this is nature's microdermabrasion and being an exfoliation fan I went to town with this beauty, until.... I read Zoe's blog on the dangers of too much exfoliation.

• Antipodes Grapeseed Butter Cleanser and Manuka Honey Mask also available at Kit Cosmetics - these are not staples of my beauty regime, I just use them when I get a hankering once or twice a week. I was a bit iffy about using an oil based cleanser on my blemish prone skin but it presented no problems and both left my skin feeling super soft.
  

• This effectiveness of this next product range was a big surprise to me. I bought the griffin+row starter kit on a whim merely because it was on sale and like all women I'm not impervious the the great marketing schemes that play on my impulse purchase weakness. I use these products for my before-bed routine (except for the cleanser which I use morning and night) and I'm NEVER GOING BACK (prior to this I had to use a doctor prescribed retinoid gel at night)! When I wake in the morning, I find my skin smoother, my complexion clearer, and my pores smaller. What more could a girl ask for? Even better news, you can snatch up this range at your local Target store.

• After cleansing in the morning (with my griffin+row cleanser) I use either [A'kin] Refreshing & Soothing Toner or Pure Rose Hydrating Mist followed by my ultimate beauty weapon:

• ORGANIC ROSEHIP OIL! I've been using this stuff for years and as you can guess Zoe loves it too, for more than one reason. I use it in lieu of a facial moisturiser under my sunscreen and it reacts perfectly well with my insane breakout-y skin. I had been using [A'kin] Pure Radiance Rosehip Oil but recently changed to Trilogy Certified Organic Rosehip Oil basically because I could buy a bigger bottle and get more bang for my buck (hey, don't call me cheap, I have to spend all my hard earned moola on these products, and at retail price).

Well that's all for now. I'm still on a mission to find the perfect natural sunscreen and makeup, if you find some lemeknow.

Diet Queen

PS I seem to love hyperlinks just about as much as parentheses, as you may have noticed.

This oughta scorch your retinas!

So the other day a bought a little something to help me along with my healthy lifestyle endeavour. I bought it from Biggies. It’s called Health + Well-Being Journal: A Practical Organiser by Carolynne Hassall and Rennay Little. I think it may actually be quite useful. It enables you to record your goals, track your progress, keep a schedule, record checklists and note various contact and website details.

What intrigued me the most was in the progress tracking section. There is an area to place a photo of yourself every three weeks. I had never really thought about pictorial documentation of my weight loss or any other benefits noticed through a healthy lifestyle. It has inspired me. I am going to road test that idea right here on my blog, so be warned you are about to view images of my blubber belly, my love handles (large enough for a football team to hang on to for dear life) and my ass and thighs which resemble the surface of the moon. I just hope in about a month’s time the next lot of photos exhibit some obvious positive results or else I may just have to go and end this blog in embarrassment.

'Houston, we have a problem.'

No, this is not a product placement for Rio. This is no model they would request for their ad campaigns.

I really hope these pictures can inspire women and reassure them they should not be embarrassed about their jelly bellies. Let’s embrace what we have, stay positive, move forward and try to reach our goals.


Diet Queen

Am I really the Diet Queen?

Hmm.

‘It’s a bold statement calling yourself Diet Queen’ I hear you say. The name does elicit strong thoughts of a serial dieter. Is such a compelling title valid for me? I think… yes.

My first memory of trying to lose some puppy fat was when I was fifteen or sixteen, waiting for the house to become deserted, popping in one of my mum’s Denise Austin VHS tapes and going nuts. And when I couldn’t get the lounge room to myself I would go to my room and practice Denise’s most memorable moves (Back then I thought exercise would solve all my weight loss problems, I thought it would nullify any junk I ate and boy did I have a sweet tooth. Every morning as mum dropped me off at school I would take most of the silver coins from her purse for “photocopying” in the library, but really just bought custard tarts or m&m’s at lunch).

Then there was the time my parents thought I was bonkers as they watched me use my mum’s industrial size cooking pot to make enough cabbage soup to feed an army…. And then use all her Tupperware containers to store it in the fridge and freezer. Sorry to sound wasteful but unsurprisingly most of that soup ended up in the bin!

I tried reading Dr Phil’s weight loss book The Ultimate Weight Solution: 7 Keys to Weight Loss Freedom but then I got sick of him telling me to ‘get real’. Sorry Dr Phil, maybe I’ll have a crack at it again some time down the track.

Of course I’ve tried the milkshake meal replacements, who hasn’t? Give me a sandwich any day over cardboard tasting, protein filled, low-fat milkshakes… I just couldn’t do it.

My boss at one time told me she was using some pills that prevented the carbs you ate from being absorbed into the blood stream. Naturally I started using them too. Anyone else now interested to give them a go, let me save you the trouble. Don’t! They’re rubbish.

Speaking of popping pills, I once bought appetite suppressors from the supermarket. After taking them I was BUZZING. So then I read the ingredient quantities (no, not very wise to check the ingredients after ingesting them), and they were full of caffeine and guarana. Suffice to say they also ended up in the bin.

Then there are the… (cue ominous music) ….supplements. Yes these are supposed to be used in conjunction with healthy diet and exercise, but it is impossible to stay on top of all of them. First there’s the fat metaboliser you consume first thing in the morning, then you take the L-Carnitine, wait twenty minutes, then exercise, then breakfast… and be careful what you eat or it all shoots right through you. Oh yeah, and then have another fat metaboliser before bed and start all over again tomorrow morning. That was only one regime; there are millions out there to sample.

I actually did slim down once about two years ago. What was my secret? I joined a gym (with a friend, it helps so much for motivation), reduced my junk food intake and ate plenty of fruit and veges. Astonishing! But I’m not getting into that now… that’s material for a whole other blog entry.

Also did I mention I just had coffee and Tim Tams for breakfast…. somebody stop me!

Diet Queen

From a virgin blogger (umm that doesn't sound right).

O.K. Here we go. So here I sit, it’s half past twelve in the afternoon and so far I’m in the process of consuming a large skim latte and a piece of apple and cinnamon bread…. and this is my first meal of the day. Not particularly healthy, what happened to breakfast? I slept in, had ten minutes to get ready and have only just had time for a break at work to feed myself. Strangely, I was starving when I awoke but by the time I found time to eat I didn’t have much of an appetite, however I did need a caffeine fix, hence the large latte.

Already I can hear judgement, just another cog in the machine feeding women’s obsession with diet fads and unhealthy methods to shrink down to a skeletal size zero (actually here in Australia, American size 0 is equivalent to a size 4, but I like saying size zero with all its clichéd associations). I’m sure there are people healthy at size zero but for the majority of us, like me (starting to bust out of an Aus size 12 bordering on 14, which is a bit heavy for someone with my small 158cm frame), we would need to eat only newspaper to drop to that size.

Anyway, to continue I’m not here to indulge our desire to find the fastest route to weight loss. I’m here to lose weight, yes ( I look like one of those old women with the waistband of their jeans dividing their stomach into two unmistakable compartments, clearly on my way to becoming a ruminant), however I am also here to get healthy. I consume way too much caffeine, sugar and saturated fats. Whenever I eat something terribly unhealthy I can almost feel the fat distributing around my heart and cholesterol clogging my arteries. I can feel my bones becoming brittle as all the highly acidic food and beverages I consume strip my bones of their calcium stores.

If I know what I eat is slowly poisoning my body then why not just get on with it and have a salad sandwich? I can’t. I’m an addict. I need junk food rehab. This is for me. I hope if I journal regularly through my journey I will be more aware of the food I put in my mouth, enabling me to take responsibility for my actions. Besides if a gal doesn’t want to lose her boyfriend she needs somewhere to vent other than in his face.

I also know that there are many individuals like me struggling to develop a healthy lifestyle and thus struggling with self-esteem weight related issues. So anyone wanting to take a trip on the healthy train with me please hop on board!

Diet Queen

PS (I realise I may have a chronic liberal use of parentheses, however my thoughts often deviate on various tangents…. and that’s how I roll. I’m sure things would be a bit different if impeccable grammar was necessary to write a blog)

PPS I am ignoring those dotted red lines under certain words that are spelled in Australian English, which hails all the way from a place called ENGLAND.