The sordid tale of the Muffin top!

Well not so sordid....but quite depressing. *Hangs head in shame*

So I made a decision to hit the gym to get rid of my enviable beer gut *that's if I was in a drinking competition* and because I want to live a healthier life. I kicked beer a long time ago....well every once in a while I try the odd corona or Budweiser but nothing major like Star or Gulder. I am not going to blame my muffin top on the fact that I quit smoking after 14 years and ballooned from a svelte 8/10 to a 12/14 (and the 12 self na tight clothes)...anyway.. That's that. I have been over-eating and eating quite late. I cant seem to get enough of meat and carbs!

So luckily, the hotel 3 mins from my house has a gym and my friend who works there gave me a 50% discount for a year's membership *woohoo*. So off to the gym I go yesterday. I managed 20 mins on the treadmill and 5 mins on the stepper. Not bad for the first day....seems lifting cartons of wine had helped my stamina a bit. One of the gym instructors helped me with some stretching and sit-ups....during the sit-ups I realised that there was a mini shrub growing under my armpit. OMG, how did that happen?...I have been working long hours including saturdays. I know thats no excuse...but..... I was and am still embarrassed that I have decided to do a FULL body wax....removing every hair except my eye-brows and the hair on my head.

As if that was not enough. Some middle aged woman walked in. We were about the same size even though she looked 20 years older than me. She must have been about 50 or so. We started talking and she commended me for how well I had done on my first day... well not wanting to sound cocky I told her I was a lazy bum and that I need to get rid of my muffin top and she kept harping on about how fit I look and how much energy I had. Then she goes ''if you look this good after having Kids then you have to be proud of yourself". with a puzzled look on my face I replied "That's the point maám. I don't have kids". Madame i-know-too-much replied "You mean you have never had kids".... I replied "NO"....she stared intensely at my muffin top and I could see the blood disappear from her face. A gigantic lump appeared in my throat and I left. Feeling worse than ever before... I hoped palm oil or cold black coffee spills on her favourite white shirt someday.

I woke up even more determined to crush the belly. I spent 1.5hr at the gym today. Got in at 7am. 30mins on the treadmill...stepper, arm and leg pull....all the works and finished off in the sauna. I am home now feeling good. I have never been more determined to lose the belly/beer gut/muffin top. I am not going to give a weekly update about this. Hopefully I will keep you all appraised over the next few months when I have reached my target weight. Wish me luck.

M'je

*Pic gotten from google images.

Let's not cry over spilt latte..

....I guess you had figured out the blog contents from its title.

Lets say the last 10 months in 2010 hasn't been favourable in my dating career. I am not perturbed. Reason being is now I have gone back to the drawing board and realised what I am NOT looking for. One of my very first interviews when I relocated back to Nigeria... I had a question thrown at me. 'Substance or Form?''.... as naive as I was. I believed it was all about 'form' back then. It was the perception that mattered. Or so i thought.....!

I cried over Solomon* because he seemed too perfect. He looked the part. A Caucasian. He came from a good home. He had a close knit family. His parents were still married. He had a good body (Boy was fit). He had dual citizenship (Oh yes! Believe it or not it was a prerequisite for marriage). He was smart (a few degrees from Ivy league schools). Panache was his middle name. He loved the finer things in life. He ate caviar and fois gras. He knew where Ulaanbatar was. Yet He was emotionally unavailable!!!

Dean* was cool too. A Caucasian. We shared a penchant for food, travel and fine wine. He was tall. He was troubled yet very much in love with me or should I say deeply infatuated. He was emotionally unstable, very much so!!

There was Ty*, don't know if any man would love me as much as he did. He didn't have the world but he would share anything he had with me. He wanted to give me the world. I was too occupied with Dean to see that. He loved me too much (I must admit it was kinda creepy) He moved on with a broken heart. He is married yet will not forgive me. *sigh*. He was too weak!!!

Then came latte*...Tall, Intrepid, Well spoken (his baritone could compete with Barry white), He went to private school. He had some plush pedigree. We shared a love for Indian outfits and wine. We shared a passion for cooking..... Oh yes, he had dual citizenship too. It felt too good to be true. My guts told me something wasn't right. But he seemed perfect on the outside. For heaven's sake we are from the same local government. He must be the one. He was going to give me the most beautiful kids in the world. He was suave. He was.... ........ Then he spoils everything by asking me to borrow him money. I had barely known him for 3 weeks. So it was a gold-digging tactic all along. Need I say more....?

I believe God brought him my way to teach me that it wasn't about form or looks. Its about substance. A man who has integrity, candour and self-respect. He could be 5 feet tall and from the back hills of Rwanda, it doesn't matter. He may not speak Oxford type English or eat scones for breakfast. He doesn't even need to know what sashimi is. All I ask is that he is self-sufficient, a provider and a man who respects himself and adores me. That's all I seek.

M'je

*Names have been changed.

Shoes! Glorious Shoes!

Or should I say. Un-glorious Clutter?!!!

A problem identified is half solved: They say. Well I have a problem with clutter. Oh dear! *clasps hands over eyes*. I decided to sort out my shoes nicely so got some guy to make me a nice shoe rack to accommodate my excesses as my tiny living space was about to explode before my eyes. It turns out that last week I had a wedding to attend and I realized I had no shoe to wear to match my outfit. True. I am not a practical shopper. I buy stuff and realise its not my size or very uncomfortable..... like seriously Who does that?
I also come to the conclusion that I have that many shoes because I never EVER give my stuff away. I hold onto them for dear life. I have had some of these shoes for at least 6 years. About 60% of them don't fit me anymore... but I still keep them. I just enjoy the clutter. I have a problem letting go. I even have empty bottles of perfume hidden in my wardrobe (cos I convinced my best mate that I threw them away...I just can't). Newspaper and magazines from 2003. Even cracked plates. Off licence Receipts from 2004 and clothes tags. Don't ask. Don't ask. Don't judge me.

Then I realized I had a problem when I started buying same design in different colours.

After counselling from a friend, I have decided to give away half the stuff to people who might actually need them. Its hard to think I may never see some of these beauties again. In all of these, I know I could never give out my Lady Marmalade shoe (below). Its a size 41 and I am a 42... but its just so cute.

In the all of this de-cluttering experience, I have learnt to do away with the old and allow room for new stuff.

M'je