No more smoking

On Monday I quit smoking.  On Tuesday I got sick.  Went out and got myself a lovely chest infection (or as the doctor put it – upper respiratory tract infection – why do they always say it the hard way instead of in laymans terms we would all understand??).  So my first week of no smoking has been great.  I wonder just how easy it’s going to be next week when I don’t have a chest that feels like it’s burning from stopping me lighting a cigarette?

On my birthday this year, when I turned 30, I decided that I was going to start getting my life on the right track.  I was going to quit smoking, start going to the gym and get fit and healthy, lose some weight, stop drinking so much and stop pining after a certain Mr Dickhead.  So I quit smoking.  The day after my birthday.  Just stopped cold turkey.  And I didn’t smoke for the next 12 weeks (barring one smoke on a very stressful night when my current sleeping partner decided he was going to smash his head open on a bathtub after nearly a bottle of vodka – a well deserved smoke I’m thinking).  Then 12 weeks into my quitting streak I went out for a night with Miss Moody, her new man and her brother.  All was going well till the 3rd bottle of wine, and the consistent question – “Want a smoke?  Are you sure?”  Well I have no willpower (okay a little, but not a lot) and after being asked this for a while, I went and had a couple smokes.  After the 5th bottle of wine, I felt bad, taking their smokes, so I gave in and bought a packet of my own.

That was about 3 months ago.  And now that I’m going to the gym, I have decided once again that I am going to quit smoking.  I don’t see the point in going to the gym and huffing and puffing and coughing my lungs up, because while I’m making the rest of my body healthy, I’m just killing my lungs off.  So my next step has been reached.  Gym, now no more smoking.  And this time I intend for it to last, and not just for 3 months.

Next on my list is to stop pining for Mr Dickhead.  And on that one I’m very nearly there.  I don’t have my rose coloured glasses on when I think of him anymore, and I very rarely text him and I never phone him.  I still unfortunately reply to his texts, but hey, he lives in UK.  I’m off to UK next year – accommodation???  Maybe not a great idea.  Perhaps I should work on less drinking first?

Well off to take some tables, and gargle salt water (ughhh) and hopefully get my voice back.  God I miss my voice.

My bit of the Internet

I’ve just been over at Dooce.  Bel was telling me about Heather’s latest post where she was publishing her hate mail, so I had to go over and have a read.  I love Dooce, but I don’t get there as often as I would like because I just don’t have the time to read all the blogs I love all the time.  But I went over and read, in particular her hate mail.

I don’t get it!!!!  Why would you send hate mail to someone, telling people that they shouldn’t write about things going on in their lives.  Why shouldn’t Heather write about her cancer? Or her daughter?  Or her dog?  It’s Heathers little bit of the net.

I’m all for free speech.  I believe in it.  I am proud of the fact that I live in a country where I can voice my opinion.  I’m prouder of the fact that I can voice my opinion on the Internet and let everyone know.  What I’m not proud of is people who decide that rather that just not reading a post that they obviously find boring (I personally love the letters that Heather writes to her daughter every month, it’s such a beautiful idea), people decide that they need to tell Heather NOT to write about it.

And not to try and offend people here, but BUGGER OFF!!!  If you don’t like what we as bloggers write – don’t come back.  If you don’t like the fact that I write (and whinge a lot) about my trials and tribulations of going to the gym, it’s really simple – don’t read my little piece of the Internet.  Find another blog, one that has writing to your tastes, but please don’t ever feel the need to send me an email or a comment telling me that my writing is crap, that I’m boring blah blah blah.  I know all this, but I don’t give a fuck!  I write this for myself.  And so long as I’m staying true to myself, then I don’t care what the rest of the world thinks of me.  And I’m glad that by the looks of it, Heather feels the same.

But I think CrankMama says it best in her comment to Dooce: Wow! These ARE hateful. The bad juju just hops off the page. I need a shower. You are lovely… and they are gross cancerous grapefruits! I love it – gross cancerous grapefruits.  I think I know some people like that…..

Okay done with my venting for the day.  Let’s hope that tomorrow has a more positive outlook on life.

Friends leaving

Mr Muscles left for the UK yesterday.  He’s gone over there to marry Miss English.  I miss him.

I could leave that post there, but that’d be a waste of a post.  But really, it’s the truth.  I miss him.  I didn’t really spend that much time with him, I spent more time with Miss English while she was here, but since she’s been gone I saw a bit more of him (not a lot though).  So it feels a little weird to miss him, and I don’t know if its him that I miss or the fact that our group is getting smaller and things are changing. (Sorry Mr Muscles, I really do miss you, so Miss English don’t read that the wrong way!!)

Twelve months ago, we had a nice tight knit little group.  There were 6 of us, well 7 if you count Mr Dickhead.  Then things started changing.  First Mr Dickhead went back home to the UK, then Miss Moody stopped working at the pub where we pretty much all met up and drank and talked and ran amok, broke up with her other half, got a new other half.  Then Mr Supportive stopped working at the pub and got Miss Mum pregnant, Miss Mum got pregnant, Miss English went back home to the UK, Miss Mum had the baby and now Mr Muscles has stopped working at the pub too and gone to the UK.  None of the original lot of us are really at the pub anymore except me – and I don’t really like half the new people working there.  They aren’t MY friends, like the others were.

Did you notice that I never mentioned anything happening to me.  While everyone’s life seems to be changing and updating, things are just kind of coasting along for me.  I know that things have changed.  Hell I’m going to the gym now, that’s a big change for me, but it just seems that all these major upheavals have been happening in everyone’s lives, except me.  The most drastic thing to happen to me was Mr Dickhead leaving (and if I’m completely honest with myself – which happens so rarely – that was the best thing to happen for me as much as I hate to admit it).  Okay and I had family dramas which were big and nothing to make light of and my job changed.  But these just seem to me to be minor changes.  Even though I know that they aren’t.  But really, compared to having a child – they’re minor.  And while I love Connor to bits, I have to admit I’m glad that my life didn’t change that drastically by having a child.  I don’t honestly think I could cope with that right now.  (Hell that would really stuff the gym up wouldn’t it).

So I’ve been sitting here thinking today, where will we all be in another twelve months?  I miss the closeness that we all shared back then, because it all seems to be drifting away, and I want to be able to drag it all back in, even though I know I can’t, that people grow, change and move on.  I just hope that we are all still friends, even if we don’t all get to see each other all the time.

In June next year, I’m planning on going to the UK for what I’m going to be calling “The Wedding of the Year” (or TWotY for short).  Miss Moody will be going, her new half will be going, Miss Mum and Mr Supportive are thinking of going.  It’s going to be like a big reunion (except Mr Dickhead won’t be there – again, not a bad thing).  I just hope that my boss gives me the holidays and that we can all get there and we can all be together again, even if it’s only for a few days…….

The Pit

What do you affectionately refer to your workplace as?  I refer to my workplace as “The Pit”.  It wasn’t actually me who coined the phrase, it was M.  I don’t think either of us particularly hate the place – well I know I don’t hate it hate it, but it probably isn’t the place I would choose to spend the best part of my week at if I had a choice in the matter.  So I don’t think M hates it either, but one day while I had a class I got an email from her (at home, she was – [the bitch!!]) and she asked me how “The Pit” was.  And it stuck.

The place really can feel like a pit at times, especially on Fridays, when there is hardly anyone around.  There is a particular workgroup here, who have somehow managed to arrange their class schedules so that they have none on Fridays.  So there are just the few of us suckers who are here.  And today is turning into a PIT of a day.  I got in this morning to find out that I.T. had kindly come in during the week and re-written the hard drive on the lecturer machine, so that all my class notes for today were gone.  Not only that, exercise files, that took me hours – gone.  Oh and all those websites I had linked, as good resources for the students.  You guessed it – GONE.  So I phoned D up in I.T. and asked him what’s going on – his nice and friendly response to me was – “You should have backed up, shouldn’t you?” 

Let me tell you something D – I would have backed everything up – IF YOU HAD WARNED ME!!!!!  So everything has been going downhill today.  Not in a good mood, so just counting down the hours till I can go to the gym and take my frustrations out on the rower.  If the evil leg swingy thing from hell was working, then I would go on that, but for now I can live with the rower. Then I can go and pick my dog up from the vet (just having a haircut he is), and then – then I’m going to relax.  It’s the weekend THANK GOD.

Oh and if anyone has any ideas on how to combat colic in a baby, please head over to Bel’s site and give her some tips.  (Hope you still want tips Bel).
Chow for now…..

Miss Perky… Not so perky…

As the title says, Miss Perky is not all perky.  She’s a terror!  Okay that might be a slight exaggeration.  But she was definately hiding her true steely self behind her perkiness last week.  While she is still a very nice person (and she really is quite nice), she wasn’t about to take any excuses of mine as to why I didn’t want to do this or that.

Maybe I might have whined a little when I got there, but I really didn’t whine too much.  Just your standard amount, when you’re exercising and really don’t want to be there.  I had better things to be doing.  Like getting notes ready for my students on Friday, but nope, I had to get straight on the bike when she came over to meet me.  There was the obligatory “Hello how are you going today?  Had a good week?”  Not even waiting for my answers, there was then this “Okay, on the bike please”.  (Though I have to say she said it with the right amount of perkiness that I was fooled for a couple minutes).  It was when she started leaning over and adjusting the tension (maybe not the right word to use here, but I’m sticking with it.) on the bike while I was riding it and it was getting harder and harder to keep up my end of her perky conversation, that I realised she is evil!  Pure perky evil!!  But good.  I will give her that.  She did it all so fluidly and quickly and quietly that I almost didn’t notice.

I did however notice the lunges that Miss Perky had me doing.  I can just imagine myself walking down Rundle Mall doing these lunges.  I looked like a raving lunatic.  Quite funny actually.  And god did they work my thighs.  My legs were burning and then they felt like jelly.  It was a nice feeling because I actually knew that I was doing something right.

So next week back to see Miss Perky, but this time I am ready for her.  I will be perfect in everything I do, and I won’t whine and she will be super impressed with me (and it’s right about this time I think I will wake up!!!), but seriously I shall do better next week.  And I won’t keep thinking of her as Miss Evil Perky……

Weigh to go!

Well I have sat down and tried to calculate how much weight I should (want to) lose – to be in the healthy weight range of course).  So.  I have to lose at least 30kg.  That’s a hell of a lot.  I actually suggested to Miss Moody that I should lose 35 – 40kg, but she thinks that is too much.  So I’m going to start by trying to lose that amount.  Then I can go from there.  And in the meantime I’m making up a list of things I can give myself when I lose certain amounts of weight.  So here is my list so far:

  • First 5kg lost – CD of my choice.  At the moment I would like to get the new Pink CD, and considering how slack I am, it will probably take me that long to get around to buying it, so it’s a good practical treat.
  • 10kg lost – New tattoo on the back of my neck (I’m going for my Pisces symbol). 
  • 15kg lost – Now I’m getting stumped.  I will have to come back to that I think.
  • 20kg lost – Still stumped, and yes get back to that one also.
  • 25kg lost – Yeah no idea for this one either……
  • 30kg lost – My large tattoo that my sister is designing for me.  This is going to be a dragon and a phoenix circling a yingyang on my lower back.  I want a nice back for that one to be put onto, so I can wait for that one.

  Well that was a lot harder than I thought.  I’m going to have to put in some thought as to what I will treat myself with for the other ones.  I at least have three of them.

So tomorrow I have my second appointment with Miss Perky.  I’m looking forward to it.  Last week she told me she was happy with the weights that I was doing, but in the last week I have put two of the weights up a notch, which was quite a thrilling moment for me.  So I’m looking forward to seeing her tomorrow and find out if that’s okay or not.  Though I’m sure she is going to pound me into the ground because I haven’t been doing a lot of cardio work.  There is only SO much treadmilling I can take.

On very exciting news though – evil leg swingy from hell machine (aka crosstrainer) has been put out of action!!!!!  I was very very very excited yesterday to turn up to the gym, with the intention of going on the leg swingy machine (okay I’m lying now, had no intention whatsoever of going on it), but alas – it was broken.  And it wasn’t even me that broke it.  What a pity.  I’m hoping when I go back tomorrow that it’s still broken so Miss Perky can’t put me on it.  Shall let you know……


Anything I would do?

Yesterday I met with my personal trainer for the first time.  Tammy.  She’s very… what’s the word…. Perky!  Yes she is very perky.  Don’t get me wrong, she’s lovely.  Skinny and very nice.  But maybe not quite pushy enough for me.  I think I might need someone a little pushier.  Of course this was just my first meeting with her, so I could be totally wrong in my assessment of her, she might be the Bitch from Hell.  Give me another couple of weeks and I will know.

So long as she can keep pushing me and making sure I get there and do my stuff, then that’s all good.  Oh and yeah, lets hope that she can organise a program for me (that doesn’t kill me….) that will get me into shape.  (I realise that round is a shape, but I’m going for more of the angular shapes now, maybe not square, but rectangular would be good..ish).

We went through the program that Nicole got me doing on Saturday, with the weights and stuff, and apparently that is all good for now.  I can keep going with that weight program for another week (again, if it doesn’t kill me first), and then next week Tammy is going to revise what I have been doing and maybe get a new program going for me.  My cardio work is okay, but I have to do a bit more on the bike, oh and the leg swingy thing from hell (aka – crosstrainer), has to be used more.  Apparently… and I say apparently because I’m protesting this, it’s a great machine to get a great workout on and I have to use it.

So really when I think about it, she’s already getting pushy.  This could actually be a good thing.

I had to answer questions yesterday, all sorts of “Do you have any injuries”? questions and then a few deep and meaningful ones – like – “Why are you doing this? What do you want to gain from personal training? (I had to physically stop myself from going “Duh, lose weight and be skinny dumbass”, but you’ll be proud to know that I didn’t say that, mumbled something, not quite sure what though….) and then the killer question for me was “Will losing weight and getting fit make you do anything that you currently stop yourself from doing”?

I honestly had no response.  There were no witty comebacks from me, no smart arsed comments.  Just a blank look.  So I had to sit and think about that.  Is there anything at the moment that I stop myself from doing, because of my looks and weight?  And you know what?  Nearly 24 hours later, I still can’t think of anything.  I pretty much do what I want to do when I want to do it.  Which amazes me, because I’ve always been a wimp, and really didn’t think I had the courage to do things, but apparently I do. Without realising it, I’ve been doing things that I really thought I would stop myself from doing.  Maybe the only thing that I will do will be to have the courage to tell a certain skinny girl (from now on affectionately [note: sarcasm] referred to as CSG) that I HATE the way she goes on and on and on about how she is getting fat.  Okay I pretty much do that now, but if I were skinny I could say it with a bit more force.  Mind you I’m still trying to think of things that I might do that I don’t do now.

Well again, I’m at work, I should be working (bleughh) so I’m going to go and do some.  Off to the gym again tonight – weight night tonight, which means pain day tomorrow.  Then off to drinks with Mr Supportive, Miss Mum and Mr Muscles (who’s jetsetting off to UK soon, and will be missed terribly).  Yes gym then drinks.  Does that sound as bad to you all as it does to me?  Almost like defeating the purpose.  Seriously going to have to look into the whole drinking thing.  And then the smoking thing.  Oh hell I’m getting a headache…….

Me? Fit? Errr… No

Well I have been going to the gym for a week now. And can I just say, that it’s not fun and I don’t want to play anymore. Actually that’s a lie. It was never fun and I never really wanted to play. But I still don’t want to play anymore.

Going to the gym is hell. I swear to god. Some masochist out there one day sat down and thought to himself (yes I say himself because it can only be a male who thought of the whole gym thing) and thought, how can I cause people immense pain, while still making money? And he came upon this great idea of creating a thing called a gym. We go to these gyms, we pay these gyms good money (and a lot of it too I might add), and then what do we get in return? Pain. Now I don’t know, I’m sure that there are places in this world where you can go to get pain (think S&M), but I’m pretty sure that these places are illegal. So how do gyms stay in business? It’s a question worth pondering I tell you.

So I went to the gym on Saturday morning. Got up at the ungodly hour of 7:30am on a Saturday (as if that wasn’t punishment enough), and went to the gym for an 8:00am appointment. There I was introduced to the weights. Oh now these things are NOT my friends. Hell I even like the swingy thing (or as I keep getting told at the gym – it’s not a swingy thing Tina, it’s a Cross Trainer. I now affectionately refer to it as the leg swingy from hell punisher thingy), yes I like the leg swingy thing so much better than the weights. It causes much less pain. And I don’t like pain.

I know I shouldn’t complain, because this is all in the name of good health and fitness, but god, isn’t there an easier way to do this? Anyway, went to the gym early Saturday, did the weights and oh yes, then the real fun began. I had to do a fitness test! I can now officially announce – I AM NOT FIT….. Here are my results:

Height = 170cm Weight = Too much  
Step ups per 30 seconds
(Left foot)
Step ups per 30 seconds
(Right foot)
Push ups
(as many as possible in 60 seconds)
Sit ups
(as many as possible in 60 seconds)
KM’s on the bike in 5 minutes 2.4
*I think it was 24. My head was spinning pretty badly after all those sit ups, I can’t really remember what she said

Yeah my results really weren’t that good or impressive.  But I have to do it again in 8 weeks to see if I have improved.  I certainly hope I can do more than 8 push ups.  They were a killer.  On the plus side I get to see my personal trainer for the first time tomorrow.  So let’s see what punishment she has in store for me….

To the gym I go…

I have always been overweight.  Or fat.  Such an ugly word that is, but yes, that is me. Fat!!!!! I have always been fat!  Ever since I can remember.  I’m not one of these people who one day woke up from being a skinny girl to thinking “Shit I’ve gotten fat”.  Nope I’ve always been a fat girl.  I’ve also always been a girl who avoided exercise.  Yes yes I can hear you all screaming now – “No wonder you’re fat….” Well yeah, okay that’s a good point.  It isn’t any wonder.  What is a wonder to me, is that I have now joined a gym.  Oh. My. God.

If someone had come up to me 6 months ago and told me that I’d be joining a gym (with the intention of going at least 5 times a week), I’d have laughed at them, punched them in the face, and walked off to get myself another beer.  But no, I have joined the dark side and am now Going To The Gym (or GTTG as I like to call it – people have no idea what I’m talking about when I say that, it’s like having my own funky little language).

And if that’s not enough, I’m giving up the drinking.  Well okay, maybe not giving up the drinking completely, lets be rational here, I’m a big drinker, I can’t just give it all up in one go, but I’m going to cut back on the drinking.  Limit myself to maybe once a week.

Let me tell you a few things about myself.  I’m Tina, I’m 30, I’m fat and I drink quite a bit.  I have lots of acquaintances, but only a few really close friends.  I have people I keep close to me, because I don’t trust them, but they think they are close friends.  I’m a happy person in public, a moody bitch at home and a depressive person when I stop and think about things.  I’m also a frequent member of the local pub, where I know lots of different people to drink with, but not a lot of people I would ever take home to meet my family.

I was never like this.  I used to live in a shell.  A shell of my own making.  I went to work, I studied, I came home and I studied some more, and in between that I read – and I read and read and read.  I was happy with my life that way.  It didn’t bother me, I thought it was fine.  I had friends I reasoned to myself and I was happy to keep in contact with these people during the day, when I was at work (supposedly working, in a job I hated).  There was nothing wrong with me ignoring people once I got home.  There was nothing wrong with me hibernating.

Then I changed jobs.  I got a job where I could finally put my training to use.  It was only a short contract position, but I LOVED IT!!!!!  The people there were nice (not fantastically wonderful people, but people you don’t mind spending the better part of a day with), and the work was great.  The best part of that job, was that at the end of the week, all these people I worked with, loved doing the tradition of traipsing off to the pub for Friday night drinks.  Keep in mind – I was not really a drinker at this stage.  So I went with them, had a drink, then made my way home.  But slowly that little shell of mine was being pryed open and I didn’t even realise it.

Then I met Mr Supportive.  I thought Mr Supportive was lovely.  Oh sooo lovely.  Well he wasn’t really, but don’t get me wrong, Mr Supportive is one of my best friends now, more like the brother I never had.  But back then, brotherly love was not what I wanted from him.  Oh the shame of it all when I think about it now.  But never mind, we have gotten over all that (thank god). But he did help introduce me even more to the wonders of drinking. 

Okay at this point I should probably point out that I’m not an alcoholic.  I know that what I’m writing really does make me sound like one, but I haven’t gotten to the point where I HAVE to have alcohol.  I really am only a social drinker, and if I don’t drink for a week, then so be it.  But when I am around friends drinking, then yes, I drink and I drink a lot.

So Mr Supportive broke my heart and I moved over to the lovely Mr Dickhead.  Mr Dickhead is English.  I love Englishmen.  He was tall, gorgeous and English and the biggest drinker I have ever known and I fell in love with him.  So I started going to the pub a lot more than I used to, drinking with Mr Dickhead and stumbling out of the pub, crashing at home and getting up a few hours later to go to work.  By this stage, my contract had ended and I had gone back to the job I hated.  But my job now had a new twist and I was working upstairs with the lecturers which I loved.  I could also get away with coming in with shocking hangovers nearly every other day and spending shitloads of my time talking and texting Mr Dickhead.

Then Mr Dickhead went hone back to England (I was devastated), and a new job opportunity came up at work teaching a new short course.  I took the job on, then realised that we didn’t actually have the course, and I had to create it from scratch.  At the same time, lots of family dramas started happening around my fathers place. 

Let me tell you something.  Stress can do wonders for weight loss.  With the combination of missing Mr Dickhead and pining for him, creating a new course from scratch (which I had never done before) and family crap happening – I lost weight.  For the first time in my life, I was losing weight and not having to do anything about it.  Okay so the fact that I wasn’t eating very much (I think at that time I was pretty much living on breakfast only) and was drinking more and more, to stop myself thinking of the awful crap happening around me, weight was coming off.

Now skip forward 6 months.  Mr Dickhead and I still talk, but well that’s a whole different story, family crap, mostly worked out, and work, well that’s going along nicely.  Teaching full time now, and coping with it.  Ahhh here comes the killer.  I eat again.  I still drink too.  But I still don’t exercise. I’m not as stressed as I was, so the weight isn’t really coming off anymore, but rather, it’s kind of coming back a little.

So I joined the gym.  And I really could have left that post at I joined the gym, but now you know a little more about me.  And you’ll get to know more, as I keep you all up to date on my trials at THE GYM!!  Wish me luck.

Go geek girls

Sharon as Ursula Andress

I was reading an artical on Ninemsn about a group of femal IT Professionals who have banded together to produce a calendar of themselves dressed as old and new movie godesses.  The reason these IT Goddesses are doing this is to raise awareness of females in the IT industry.

As a lecturer at college who teaches multimedia, can I just say that I think this is a fantastic idea.  I have 2 dedicated multimedia classes and the majority of the people in these classes are males.  So I think that anything that can raise the awareness of having kickass females in the IT/Multimedia industry is a great thing.  We need more females in the industry.

On a personal note now – I just got acrylic nails put on and jesus I am having a hard time typing.  I think I might need to get them taken off or at the very least shortened – I cannot keep typing with these things, they drive me nuts.