You know the non-existent obesity epidemic that’s sweeping the western world? I have been trying to figure out what the goal of it is. I’ve decided it is all about fashion. Fat people [including myself] generally have stretch marks, they jiggle in strange ways, they can’t fit in size 8 clothes, a lot of them don’t cover it up properly when they’re out and about… and since the skinny jeans were fashionable the fat people [myself excluded here - give me boot-cut any day] bought skinny jeans and everyone realised how fat everyone looked in them [everyone [excluding supermodels] looks fat in skinny jeans]. So my theory is this: if they marketed clothes with enough variation that ‘fashionable’ would be flattering on everyone. You just pick a different part of fashionable to compliment yourself, you’ll still be with current fashions but it won’t matter what shape or size you are.

When I started this paragraph on Thursday I wrote: Today I went for my walk then came home, rolled out my new yoga mat and popped in one of the yogalates DVDs. I did the warm-up exercises then the first section which happened to be abdomen. Then I sat down for a long time. My hips got increasingly stiff and my knees reminded me that they needed to hurt some more today so I said fine. Stood up and made a shepherd’s pie. It is sitting on the stove all ready to go in the oven. When dinner time rolls around we’ll heat it up, eat half and freeze half. My next project is chilli.

Now we’re back to today… it has been raining for the last few days. Nice big drops that make noise on the window [not that I can hear it, but I know from previous experience that they do]. I adore the rain. Growing up in Idaho there wasn’t a lot of rain about, we had more than enough snow and a few good thunder-and-lightning storms in the summer; but not the wonderful rain that covers our fair British isles. It smells amazing and it always cheers me up. On Easter Sunday though, we had snow and some neighbours built a snow-bunny.

I’ve been craving French Toast. So much in fact that it featured in my dream last night. I’ve also been dreaming about high school a lot lately. I dreamt about Melissa W twice and I’m not sure why, we weren’t close friends. Night before last I dreamt of my friend Dustin and I wondered when I’d dream about Brett. Last night I went to two family reunions, one for each side of the family. Brett was at the latter one; and he had the bread for French Toast… and a very strange movie called Click which everyone refused to watch. See, the DVD menu had like 20 options on it, the same story told from 20 different perspectives, the problem was that you couldn’t get the whole story without watching each one so it took like 10 hours to watch. Also, my brain suggested the latest reality TV show. Girl in strapless dress wanders around town ‘falling out’ of her dress while a crew films the hilarious results.

Dear god, please please please let me stop dreaming soon.

Oh, yeah, the French Toast. Weasel and I collected lovely baguette from the shop this morning, so we had French Toast for lunch. It was heaven. Never has French Toast tasted so good.

I share this pictures with you then go do more yogalates as I told myself I must do it every other day to supplement my walks. The last DVD for my yogalates collection arrived this morning so I have no excuse to be fat anymore. I hope.

Yeah, people microwave cheese… all by itself… in the original packaging. Yes we spent over £12 on half a wheel of spicy cheese. We love cheese. We routinely have five kinds in the fridge for our cheesy desires. Mmm cheese.

I wish I could figure out how to complain in an entertaining way. But I’m not sure if what I’m doing here actually counts towards complaining? Isn’t it just good old fashioned whining?

One last thing… this is probably too much information for you, but I need to share. My hair is naturally dirty blonde-ish coloured and I dye it red. My pubic hair has always been a much darker brown. Always. Today after my shower, I was putting on lotion and I realised it had changed colour and was a nice dirty blonde. I’m not sure why my pubes changed colour or how. As for when I’m not sure, as I don’t examine my pubes every day, I’m fairly certain that I would have noticed the change fairly quickly. The why/how is troubling.

I’ve updated my illness page today, if you’re interested.