jeans

Gah, I’m the size of a whale!

Ho.Ho.Ho.

Yeah, it’s all fun, giggles and hiccups until you wake up the day after Boxing Day & even your comfiest pyjamas don’t fit.

Are you also getting that thing, where you feel like you can feel your belly flop a bit when you sit down? Yeah I’m fit, and what?!

It’s fair to say I did a champion job of eating this Christmas. When I say Christmas I mean December. When I say December, I mean I basically haven’t stopped since Halloween. But hey. It’s over now. And I’m ripped rearing ready to go to get my body back to somewhere where it used to be!

How?! I hear you scream.

Well, I tell you what I’m not going to do, that’s for damn sure. Wait until January 1st. Or January 4th as on January 1st we’ll all be hungover and miserable and the gym will be shut because it’s bank holiday so we’ll just give up before we’ve started.

I started yesterday, that’s what I did.

And if you’re hoping to shift that holiday weight, here’s a few tips from a rather rotund Lady London to help you get on your way.

  • Get your bum to a decent sized supermarket. And pronto. Stock up on some essentials for the week, and plenty of veg, and cook yourself some decent meals on these ‘lull’ days. Avoid carrying on the binge if you can help it.
  • Get yourself up the gym tomorrow. You might only get one or two work outs in between now & New Year but it’s better than none. & it will mean you start the new year having already had a kick up the bum. (I need to stop saying bum)
  • Spend wisely in the sales. Do you actually need a new pair of 8inch boots that will kill you the minute you put them on? No. Go to the sports shop. Invest in some new gym kit with your Christmas money. I mean, if you’re gonna go, might as well be looking half fly.
  • Chuck your scales out with the crap presents your Aunty Glenda bought you. Weigh yourself and you’ll enter the stage of self loathing, which more often than not leads to you buying pizza. Don’t weigh yourself until the end of January (if you have to at all). Give yourself half a damn chance!

I’m off to cook myself some kind of stirfry.

And have a row with the white chocolate snow dog that seems to just keep starting at me from the other side of the living room.

Little bastard.

LL x

image courtesy of http://bliss.tumblr.com/post/108832275228/its-all-fun-and-games-until-your-jeans-dont-fit

 

 

 

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2015 – it’s a wrap 

So remember last year I did little wee montage of all pictures that summed what a shinkickingly good 2014 I’d had & I’m sure you all absolutely loved it.

Well, here we go again. Except less pictures, more words, less shinkickingly good (in parts just shin-kicking to tell you the truth)

It’s been a funny old year if I’m honest. A right royal rollercoaster.

So anyway here goes. Thank god!


Jan – April



To be fair it didn’t start off too shabz, truth be told. I entered the year with a new sense of ‘I’m not all bad’ and decided to make a move towards having a bit more get up & go about myself. I met a boy, who was a treat, and went hell for leather back into the world of semi-perma dating. Scary right! It was, but I needed it. Not needed a boy. (Pah. Do I need to sing Independent Women at you? ) But needed to know I could do it and not royally f it up. Well. More of that later. I can feel a story coming on.
Me & Jupp went to Disney land to say a fond farewell to our early twenties. What better way to celebrate turning 26 then eating candy floss on It’s A Small World…here we go. I know you all secretly wanted a picture of us in the ears. Shabang!

 


I actually turned 26. Which was petrifying and I didn’t enjoy it even slightly. Tell a lie. The night out was blinding….here we all are. This is the night we discovered the joys of Café Patron tequila. Which to be honest, as sad as it is, is up there on the highlights list because of the incredible decisions it led us all into making thereafter.

Me, 26, and standardly in a Jo Irwin issue jumpsuit. What else would I wear?

May



My May will go down in history. For none of the right reasons. Even Laura’s manager at work asks about ‘the girl that had the terrible May’. Want the run down? I’m going to make it funny. Cos well. It’s me. Now, take a deep breath. Because you need to read it and remember this all happened in 4 short weeks. 4 short, terrible weeks.
The aforementioned boy binned me on WhatsApp ( yep double blue ticked ditching –ouchy!) the week before we were due to go on a grown up mini break. Never did get that hotel money back. Bastard> I found out the ‘promotion’ I’d got at work was no longer available (foot/gut/thanks for the memories> I went to 2 funerals – fav > I had a dodgy smear test and for a while it was all like, oh my dayz, what is wrong with me, it’s life ending init, oh I am so dead. Had to have a biopsy on my cervix which was all of the pain> I didn’t get a job at Jimmy Choo that I super really wanted > I collapsed, ended up in A&E and made Dean think for a good 7 minutes that I’d exited this mortal coil (yeah I went blue. Smurf Jo)> I discovered aforementioned boy had shacked up with a 45 year old from work (safe brother, safe) & was in a Facebook relationship (grown up) a mere week after binning me. Hmmmmm>oh yeah, and our boiler packed up. That finished me off.
See what I mean? WHADDA SHOCKER.

June – September
.
Minus crying, a lot. Ha. Jokes. I picked myself up pretty quick sharp as it goes and hit the gym. I discovered the joys of The Body Coach, graduated and felt like a lean winner….go on then – here’s what I did


(Worth noting I don’t quite look like that at the moment because it’s December and I like bread again!)
We went to Edinburgh. Got abused for being English. Vowed never to return.

We went to Wildlife festival and shook our tic tacs – big time. I got hay fever for the first time and made the mistake of drinking with anti-histamines. Oh it was bad.

My best boy mate packed up his bags and buggered off travelling for 18 months. I cried some more.

We celebrated my bestests engagment party. It was the best day of the year. It was emosh. Proper emosh. More emosh the more gin we drunk. But at one point in the evening I turned round and saw a garden full of people that we’ve known for 15 years, sitting together and celebrating a real life changing moment. I made a speech. The groom to be nearly cried. It was THE BOMB.

 


Then my little Benji turned 30. The hula party broke me (ha! No comment) and we went off to Lille for 3 nights. I came back with suspected gout from the wine and cheese and Ben turned 30 in true, true style. Whilst hammered.

What else happened? Oh yeah. My blog made it onto the METRO…. I nearly died that day. Literally nearly collapsed on the floor (don’t worry Dean, not literally this time) when 42,000 people read my first ever article for them. I’m still writing for them. My own blog is flying and I actually, smush I know, feel really proud of myself. Really bloody proud.



September – November. 



The time came when the heartbreaking decision had to be made to move my little Nan, Joanie Brickell into a care home. It was gutting. Literally the worst. We all knew she couldn’t be on her own any more but watching my Mum & uncle have to push that button was wrenching. It’s taken some adjustment, numerous escape bids and many a sleepless night (mum worrying nan, us worrying about mum) but we’re getting there. And she’s settling in just a treat. Thank god.

 
I took the bull by the horns and FINALLY GOT A NEW JOB. Wahoo. After getting signed off with stress (low point alert) I thought ‘ya kna what, some stuff just aint worth it’.

The year had well and truly taken it’s toll and the job as it now was had whacked a final nail in the coffin. I took the two weeks & made my mind up that absof*kinglutely wasn’t going back to where I was 3 years ago all depressed and wound up and noise. I’m now a PA, I don’t work in fashion and you know what? I bloody love it.
I watched one of dearest mates get married in a ceremony that would have brought tears to the harshest of women. Lady Lachhar and her Gregory tied the knot in October in the phenomenal Babington House. We got dressed up, I wore a bindi, I danced all night and had dinner sitting opposite Eddie Izzard. Random. But amazing. Here’s to them two, and many happy years togther. Love you.

Then to round it off…I only went to bloody Japan didn’t I. A place I’ve wanted to go since a kid, and there I was, standing in Tokyo and thinking. Girl. You did it. I hung out with my best mate for two weeks, saw the most amazing stuff, took all my kit off in a hot spring and lived the dream.

I had a lot of time to think whilst I was out there. Long bullet train journeys, long flights, actual time to sit down and relax. A lot of time to realise that yes, this years chucked some serious bad shiz my way, but I still got to Japan. I didn’t flake. I didn’t fall down. I got on with it. I cried a lot but I got there! And saw this.


December. 



Now we’re here. I’m pleased to say that the year’s ending much better than it started out. New job, blogging like a demon, life changing holiday and a bit of a new attitude.
I’m a bit more ‘sod it’, a bit more carefree. Hopefully less worry and panic. Nobody wants another hospital visit do they!
I’m signing off now for the year. Cos well, I wanna go get merry, a bit fat, and sit down and work out where Lady London goes in 2016.
Thanks to each and everyone of you who’s been there to scrape me off the floor this year. To everyone that’s read the blog. To the Metro. To everyone that stopped me flying straight into a wall.
You know who you are but….

Mum (mate, how you do it I don’t know ), Bex, Laura, Sarah, Dean, Kate, Hannah, Josh & Ben

I love ya.

Merry Christmas kids. Over & out.

LLx