I’ve baked for most of my life. To pass the time, to find something to focus on, to calm my creative urges or simply because it was the fastest way to score something sweet for myself without having to leave the comfort of my home.
Last summer, before I started at my current job, I went through a phase of baking and decorating cupcakes. I’d follow every recipe to the letter and spend hours trying new ways to make them pretty. I loved it. It felt good to be creative. But it was like waving a liquor bottle under the nose of an alcoholic because I couldn’t actually eat them (at that point I was still adjusting to life after lap-band and could only manage to eat just one of my pretty presents in a day without a huge sugar rush and a very full tummy.)
So, instead of eating them or throwing them in the bin, I started baking batches of cupcakes and giving them away to friends and family instead. And I found that it felt great. I was happy baking, they were happy eating and I had no guilt whatsoever.
Yesterday was a hard day. One of the hardest I’ve had since I’ve been in Ottawa. To say I felt hopeless would be an understatement. And all I wanted to do was numb the pain. Normally I would eat or drink and I really didn’t want to do to much of either of those things because a) I was on my own and b) the guilt would simply add to the situation and I’d just end up in some kind of food-fueled self-destructive slump the next day.
So, in a strong effort to not allow myself to numb my pain with food, I decided to sip the recommended ‘one glass’ of red wine whilst baking my project team a pumpkin cheesecake. It kept me busy and shifted my focus away from eating and towards creating something special for some people I care about. And I felt a whole lot better.
It wasn’t until a friend asked me if I considered baking to be a coping mechanism that I actually realised it is. And it occurred to me that it always has been. Funny what a few things from a pantry can do for a heavy heart. Even if I don’t eat them myself.
Curtis Stone, you filthy tease!! You are so right, sir. And with people like you pimping food to the world, I’m fixin’ to be stuffing my face very soon.
I don’t care what he’s cooking, but I’m eating it. Bandster friendly or not! Good things he’s a healthy food philosopher.
I HEART you Curtis Stone, you sexy sweet ass, you!
Well, today was a lot easier than yesterday. No real cravings worthy of a rawhide chew toy. I have had a piece of two of Stride Uber Bubble™ and it’s helped to curve the cravings a few times. Sweet and chewy which is pretty much all I needed. What a relief! Big fan. BIG.
Managed to get through an entire day of TV without any snacking. Highly unusual for a woman of my stature so I’m quite pleased with myself. Getting slightly nervous at the thought of the pure liquids stage post-op but I guess if I can do this I can do that.
One things I’m getting used to is the dull ache in the pit of my stomach widely associated with hunger. As most skinnies know it’s not overly painful, simply an annoyance I’ve come to tolerate. That being said, let’s see what happens when I can’t eat from Midnight on Thursday. I’m sure I’ll be breaking out the rawhide then!
Day one of the pre-op diet was okay. I managed to cope with the rather strict regime by distracting myself watching TV and movies. I really didn’t feel all that hungry throughout the day and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the food I’ve been eating. It’s fresh and tasty and the textures weren’t really much of a challenge.
It wasn’t until around 19:00 that I had my first real carb craving of my journey.
Although I shouldn’t have, I caved to the craving and had a bowl of Oatmeal Crisp with skimmed milk. It’s honestly never tasted so good! At least it was whole grain…So, that brings my total food consumption to the following:
2 x small tubs of Liberte Svelte yogurt
(Another) Spinach salad with (more) cucumber, red and green peppers topped with chicken breast cooked in garlic, chilli and ginger – DELISH!
Cereal mentioned above.
All in all, I think I did quite well. Can’t believe I actually caved on the first day though! Guess I better try harder…sadly, tomorrow aint gonna be any better – friend’s 30th birthday. Bah!
After a previous note (written some time ago), I did some thinking about my extreme aversion to dating and suffered the harsh realisation that I’ve simply gotta stop this boyfriend bugbear.
There are many reasons for my change of heart but the biggest is that if I’m too scared to date then not only am I sure to avoid making an ass of myself in front of a potential partner (yay), I’m also never going to get to enjoy the plethora of perks that putting myself through a few awkward hours can lead to (boo).
Although I tend to do alright meeting boys in bars I decided against shimmy shaking and salsa dancing, wine tasting or whiskey wasting and opted to try something slightly easier to screen. So, I did a little research and explored other means of making the most of the London meat market…
I joined an internet dating site. Yep, that’s right. I am officially one of those people that post their most perfect picture and few personal details in a gallery of guys and gals that are quite possibly looking for a little something other than love… But ANYWAY, as some of you know I’ve dabbled a little with the online love machine in the past and well, we (as in the love machine and I) simply did not compute. As such, I abandoned the electronic in favour of more traditional means of finding a fun buddy.
See, the things is, all too often women (myself included) join these sites simply to see who else is out there in Singletown, UK. Sometimes they join for a laugh while loungin’ with the ladies. And sometimes it’s to find someone to scratch an itch they just can’t seem to reach any other way. Whatever the case may be its not usually to actually go out and meet some random computer nerd off the net.
However, I made a decision. I wanted to go on a date with someone I’d actually spoken to for longer than I’d snogged. So I sat down in front of my computer and entered the digital dating domain. And I like it. I mean, these boys just wanna add a little Canadian Bacon to their breakfast in bed and really, who am I to stop them?
Mmmm…The Brent Flood…a guilty pleasure of mine. A fantastic four-piece from South London that continue to tempt me with their progressive mix of sultry rock n’ roll and punked-up country. At first listen I was torn. I doubted them. I doubted their difference…their rock anthem guitar mixed with their delicate lyrics. Something just didn’t seem right.
But then I saw them live at a tiny little north London venue called the Betsy Trottwood and it hit me. Ever since that first live indulgence into the world of all things Floodilicious I knew these boys were serving up somethin’ good. I’ve seen them when they’re hot and I’ve seen them (rarely) when they’re not and they never cease to satisfy my craving for a hearty helping of what they call “Indie Sunshine”.
Their gig at the Halfmoon in Putney this month was no exception. But this time…something had changed…they were fresh, funky and indie-kid cool and they had moves to match to music I know and love. But don’t just take my word for it… 90% of the preceding band’s audience stuck around to enjoy the show and gave the boys the reception they deserved.
They kicked off their thirty-minute set with Heavy Petting. Personally, I love this tune. It’s a rock slash pop tune with a really catchy chorus about a guy cravin’ some action from an ex and she’s almost up for it. It’s a nice little popper that gets the crowd bopping and always makes me smile at the thought of this foursome getting some. My only criticism is that this tune ends just a little too quickly…
They turned out the rest of the set with professional precision including a duo of new, very different little dittys both of which shed a new light on the group’s song writing skills and their ability to musically stir things up. Hurricane is one to watch out for if you’re a fan of their more rock-related fare but if you love the acoustic in their Paint Our Faces Red you’re gonna devour Drunken Country.
This performance was by far the best of The Brent Flood to date and I’m pleased as punch to say that I haven’t sampled anything so delightful since.
So when you hear them, follow them, chase them and when you catch them, hold on tight cause you’re gonna wanna be there for the feast of fantastic that is their flight to fame!