I remember as a little girl one of my absolute favourite things to watch, after Alvin and the Chipmunks (the movie), was Miss World.
I don’t watch Miss World anymore, but as a little girl the beautiful women, the shiny outfits, and the gorgeous high heels and perfect Barbie doll stomachs in swimming costumes all filled me a sense of wonder and magic.
A part of me wonders if that’s why I was never happy with my body. Not once.
Today is the first day of the well.i.am challenge, and it was with much sadness that I looked in the mirror on my way out the house and acknowledged that I really need this. This was just after I put my mascara on and then, while it was still wet, sneezed. With black tracks on my carefully prepared face I felt slightly despondent but am glad that I’m on the right track with the rest of my life.
“I think that women just have a primeval instinct to make soup, which they will try to foist on anybody who looks like a likely candidate.” ~ Dylan Moran
I have become a prodigious cooker of onion soup this winter.
To be honest, it’s because I planned to make a pot for a dinner party once and ended up buying roughly a gazillion more onions that I needed. This is because I grocery shop like my mother: with plans to feed a small country instead of a few guests. It’s a bad habit, but luckily onions last forever and so I’ve been able to get quite a few batches out of that one mishandled shopping excursion.
I want to stuff my face in a never-ending waterfall of carbs and curl up with a heated blanket and never, ever leave my house again. Ever. Maybe quick forays into Pick ‘n Pay are acceptable (to stock up on Milo), but in general, no. No leaving the flat.
I’m going to blame these dark desires for sugar and DVDs on evolution.