Hello!
First of all may I wish you all the merriest of Christmasses and a very happy new year. I have travelled back up to the far North (Fife) for the festive season, and let me tell you, it's been anything but fucking festive.
Whilst in Carlisle I was very much looking forward to coming home to see my parents. Who wouldn't after spending 6 months working at Fawlty bloody Towers and living in a house with temperatures that rival the Arctic. I packed all of my belongings up and sent them away to Manchester to live in Petit Filous Bear's house, got in my car and sped up to Scotland, looking forward to getting home and putting my feet up and eating yummy food.
And then I arrived home.
Now you must understand something. I am a woman in my twenties, who is moving to London in a matter of days, with my own car and own life. My father, bless him, isn't aware of any of this information, and if he had his way, I would be electronically tagged so he would know my whereabouts at all times. My mother is one of these women who is always in competition with someone or other. My uncle, about who has the nicest car; My auntie, about who has the cleanest house; ME, about WHO IS THINNER. I am not built to be skinny for two reasons. 1) I like cake and sweets, and 2) I have extremely large breasts (steady) and a massive arse. My mum is the same, but I think she forgets this, and has recently gone on a major diet and exercise regime to lose weight and shape up. Obviously I think this is fantastic for her, as a few years ago I lost a couple of stone. But the second I walk through the door, she says the following:
MUM : "I've bought you some gym passes on my membership. You're looking quite overweight at the moment and obviously because I've lost all this weight I want the same for you. I burned 350 calories today on the cross trainer and I had a weight watchers soup for my lunch today."
ME: "Hi Mum, I've just left my cases in the car."
No "hello", no "how was the drive?"
Just "you're looking quite overweight".
Bitch.
So I used her fucking gym passes and toddled off to the gym, only to discover that I have put on A STONE AND A HALF! This cannot be! I don't like cakes THAT much?! ... Joke. But seriously, I was devastated - that's nearly all of the weight I worked so hard to lose! Thus I am now depressed and going to the gym and eating celery and air in a bid to be a bit skinnier. I have also realised recently that I am a 45 year old woman and purchased Davina McCall's new workout DVD. I gave my brother the fright of his life when he walked in on me doing lunges in leggings and a sports bra.
As I'm sure my most avid readers are aware, I am moving to London this month. My fabby pals (Ugly Ginger, Mr Pricklepants and PFB) are journeying down to London over the next few days to view some houses which are suitable enough for us all to live in. I am tremendously excited, although completely aware that those Southern types are going to HATE me. I am Scottish, always extremely happy and constantly cracking (shit) jokes, therefore raining on their miserable little parade (soz to all of my Southern friends - you are all fabulous).
Reasons why I should not move home
1) Mother in constant calorie competition - "fat bitch" comments are being thrown about willy nilly.
2) Father plotting to strap tracking device round my middle (I'm sure if he had his way he'd use those reigns I see toddlers wearing).
3) One of my (SIX) dogs isn't house trained very well (he's deaf and fucking stupid) and is forever pissing all over my prized possessions. He is so cute but definitely has it in for me.
4) Constantly being snowed in due to ice age-like conditions in a house with limited hot water and (most of the time) no heating. Davina-cise has therefore been an effective warming up technique.
5) Since I have returned I have had extreme toothache to the point where I am considering bashing out with a rock caveman style. Obvious sign that Scotland is BAD.
6) Canny help eating cakes. Perhaps home is not the problem as I am a fat cow really but why not blame it while we're tugging at that thread.
7) No chance of shagging at any point due to creaky bed being right next to parents room. (Note to parents: can hear your fucking creaky bed by the way)
8) Missing my chums - very funny buggers who cheer me up. Bit shit when they are in a foreign country.
9) IT'S SHIT
Much love pals.
Toodles xx
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