The Bridesmaid's Diet

Following week

2008-09-09T17:19:00.000+01:00

Have gained weight from unhappiness binges so decide to sign up for a 10k run and start training. First long run I do of 8k I meet American girl at the pub afterwards and I order a grilled chicken burger and it accidently comes with fries and I accidently eat them all and three beers. Then the tiredness and lethargy hits and I slump and head home.

This week I run Monday Tuesday and then Wednesday lunchtime. I go back to smoothies and a fight with Jake for breakfast, and crumpets. Then for lunch I have the canteen ladies soup as long as she has not put cream in it. But often she does but not very much or so she says and I pretend to believe her. Tree man comes into our office every day and tries to get my attention. It is excruciating. He talks to other people and I keep my head down but he talks louder and louder so I notice him. Then he comes over and stands too close and I have to keep wheeling my chair back. Is gross. Routine of running, being harassed by tree man and making fish and salads in the evening is depressing me but then clouds part and Jake is forced to go away the upcoming weekend for a stag night. HURRAH have brilliant most exciting opportunity to have a dinner party with friends and everyone can come and stay and not have Jake yelling at me and being awkward. There is room for normal people from London to come and stay and ill cook beautiful food all day in the kitchen and then serve it. Calmly and in no way hysterically and full of rage.

Decide to have Seth and Bree and Vince and Hermione and Jennifer and Andre up. I tell them to bring booze and then I start planning the menu. Have decided to make crayfish on sweet potato rostis with my mothers red pepper cream sauce for a starter. Then will bake huge pork in tinfoil with onions for five hours till it all falls apart when mixed with a fork and mix with onions and bbq sauce and will serve with coleslaw and Cajun wedges and buns. Will be like a southern American feast and very meaty so the boys will be happy. Spend Wednesday night and Thursday night buying ingredients. I have taken over the entire fridge.

In the meantime CAG is beside herself because her derelict lover will not see her anymore and has told her to stay away from him because she is mental. I am on phone to her, buying meat from butcher with one hand and ticking of list of ingredients in other hand at the oxford market. CAG says that she has started to stalk her derelict lover and recently followed him to a dinner party then crashed the dinner party and screamed at him until she was forcibly removed. While she is talking the phone beeps and it is Scottish man ringing through. Have been so busy I nearly forgot to obsess over him. I hang up on CAG and answer. ‘I’m coming to Oxford tomorrow night for the weekend and watching the Rugby on Saturday’ he says. ‘I have a dinner to go to, come as my date’. ‘Can not come’ I tell Scottish man ‘I am cooking dinner party Saturday and will be chopping vegetables for all my life is worth on Friday’. ‘Fine’ he says ‘Ill come to your place and take you out for dinner locally’. ‘Ok’ I say, but very locally because I have lots of chopping to do. ‘I will help you peel and chop’ he says. ‘Am I invited to your dinner party?’ he asks. Is interesting question because I will be the only unpartnered person there, so it could be ideal.

However, he is planning to watch rugby all day Saturday with his friends elsewhere in Oxford and will be very very drunk by Saturday evening. Also need to punish him for lack of contact recently. Would not be good to introduce new very drunk guy to friends especially when his contact is unreliable and intermittent. I tell him no he is not invited but he can take me to dinner Friday and come round later Saturday and have a drink after dinner party is over. I thank the lord that Jake is out of town, and that Scottish man is only mildly annoyed that I live with my ex and he is not above violating the code and staying in the house while Jake is absent.

Week Oxford

2008-09-08T12:17:00.000+01:00

After that weekend I don’t hear from Scottish man for what seems to be longest time ever. Every day on the bus I say to Dimitri ‘Why? Why would he stop calling me?’ Dimitri does not know but talks to me about food and tries to cheer me up. I email Sally from work ‘Sally why why won’t he call?’ I say. She pretends there is static on the line and she can’t hear me.

On Monday I am very blue and decide to exercise lots this week. This means I can eat slightly more for lunch and so I have hummus wraps for lunch and fruit this week.

A tree expert from the environment comes down to visit my office and he is under forty and not yet completely bald in manner of everyone in my office so I am vaguely friendly to him. After he leaves the office he emails me very illiterate email saying ‘for sure to let you know you attractive and welcim to this office’ I forward the email to Sally and we laugh hysterically at his stupidity. ‘For sure to let me know how THAT works out’ emails Sally. From then on we start every sentence with ‘For sure to let you know’. She names him Dyslexic Tree man. Dyslexic Tree Man has taken quite a shining to me after some brief email correspondence and he leaves bottles of wine or flowers or cds on my desk all week. Is kind of annoying because then he pops in to my office to get some recognition of his gifts as I cant email to thank him as that would be encouraging him. Sally has told me to be careful not to encourage him as oft times I have ended up in horrible stalker type scenario. ‘Is because I am so beautiful’ I tell Sally. ‘Is not ‘she says ‘is because you are idiot’. Each day from then on Dyslexic Tree Man tries to get me to go and drink with him.

I go home and overeat because of anxiety of not hearing from Scottish man. I make Prawns and Pancetta mixed through linguine with sweet chilli, chilli oil and avocado oil and baby spinach leaves. I eat three bowls full and lie on the couch dejectedly. Jake tries to watch television and I am so horrible to him that he leaves the room.

The next day I feel sick and go back to eating lentil soup in the evenings but other than this the same practice occurs all week until Friday when Tree man asks me for a drink for the 20th time this week. I decide I might actually go even though he has started to repulse me with his over-eagerness. Feel should make friends at horrible work and make an effort with people. Also, and mainly, am dying to drink and have no one to drink with.

Over email trying to organise quick drink he makes the biggest deal ever of it and I instantly regret decision to agree to it and feel pressure. This is how to not pursue a girl if you are a late 30 something desperate man. He says he will go home and get changed and come back and pick me up. I say ‘no, I will just have a drink with you at pub outside work then catch my bus’. He says ‘how about you come to my house and ill pour you a wine’. I say ‘no, ill have a quick drink with you at the pub by work’. He says ‘these pubs are no good, come to a nearby village. I’ll drive you to Oxford first so you can shower and get changed’. I was starting to be a bit horrified. I firmly say I will have one drink at the pub, as I figure he might be less desperate and pushy outside the office environment. The first thing he says when we get there is ‘I’ll buy the drink but don’t have the expensive wine’. Who would say that? I invert my rage. I order the expensive wine. Then he tells me about how he is into Japanese fencing which I think is a boring and geeky thing to be into. He goes on about this for 20 minutes. The only interesting bit was that he is interested in Japanese food too and I sit up and ask if he has eaten at Nobu, in manner of Victoria Beckham. He looks confused and has clearly never heard of Nobu. When I tell him that it is expensive and high rolling restaurant he says ‘well I can see I’m going to have to earn a lot more money to keep YOU’. There are so many things wrong with this statement that I don’t know where to start. Is most presumptuous thing I have ever heard.

I slump back and pick at fingernail thinking he is a real dick. He asks no questions of me, and when I start to speak he talks louder and louder over me until I stop. This is worst conversation technique ever. I rue the day I was vaguely friendly to him. Then he starts what can only be described as a wife interview. He states that all his friends are married and do I want children and what is my relationship history. I am making snarly comments with lip curled, when I get a text from Scottish man. I read phone and jump up from table and run out the door while Dyslexic Tree Man is still in the middle of sentence. He is dead to me as would rather go and sit in a pub alone and text Scottish man than be with DTM for a moment longer. I end up back in Oxford having four red wines and ordering Spaghetti Arabiatta at local Italian. Tomato pasta far better than ordering creamy pasta and red wine has anti oxidants in it. Is fun eating alone with no one to annoy me and nothing to do but wait for the reassuring bleep of the phone with Scottish mans next funny text. Not very good diet day but I have exercised four times this week in order to avoid house of horror. Am quite fat though.

Weekend

2008-09-05T12:03:00.002+01:00

Scottish man calls and says he was sick and not coming to Oxford. I am horrified that it could be lie in manner of typical man so hope that he is not in arms of another woman. The emotional frustration actually gave me energy and I went to the gym early on Saturday morning - concept previously unheard of.

On the way back from the gym at 10.00am Saturday morning I got a text from CAG. ‘Can you please spare some time for me I am so depressed‘ it says. I went to her house which was actually good because I did not have to go home and risk bumping into Jake. I let myself into her apartment which is around the corner from big flash house. She is drinking a beer, has a Yankees sweater and cap on and is wearing NO MAKEUP. ‘Pull yourself together’ I say hysterically ‘oh my god I can’t LOOK at you put something on your face!’ I make gagging sounds and cover my eyes until she eventually goes into her bathroom and makes a slight effort with her appearance.

‘What are you depressed for?’ I say. ‘My life ‘she says, swigging her beer. She seems a little bit disorientated. I ask her how long she has been drinking as its still morning and she says ‘oh this is my first beer I just took these sleeping pills last night and woke up holding some candy and a banana and I don’t really know where I got them from.’ ‘Cra-zy.’ I think. But also is cool and I imagine she is taking Vicadin in manner or Dr House.

‘You know what I want, I wanna bake a fucking CAKE man’ she says. ‘I want some microwave Cake mix’. ‘We don’t do that in this Country’ I say ’I will help you bake a cake from scratch’. She loses interest and drinks more so I drag her up the road to my house. She moans and swears loudly all the way there.

I keep my baking cupboard full at all times in case I ever allow myself to bake a cake and then eat it. I took out all the ingredients for a simple Nigella Chocolate Loaf and the recipe. I tell her to do exactly what recipe says. I leave her in the kitchen and she suddenly goes quiet and starts to concentrate. It was like getting a baby off to sleep when you have been up with it for hours. I left her alone and did some homework. I checked on her periodically and she was happily weighing and measuring flour and chocolate. Finally the chocolate cake was made. At lunchtime Jake came home and CAG and I had also whipped up some pasta and started a bottle of Merlot. We had taken the cake, pasta, and Merlot outside and we were sitting on the balcony overlooking the river toasting ourselves. CAG dropped her dish of pasta, and one glass, but we were not deterred. Then she announced she wanted to get stoned. I don’t love drugs but I think its quite rock and roll when other people do it as long as I don’t have to. Five minutes later her ‘dealer’ arrived at our house, walking right through the house to deliver it to her on the balcony personally. Jake stormed out onto the balcony and gave us a long lecture about allowing criminals to walk through our house when he is a lawyer. He was not however above helping CAG smoke her new drugs though.

Today I have had half a bottle of wine, Chocolate Cake, pasta, gone to the gym and then finish the icing out of the bowl after CAG and Jake fell asleep on the sofas. Oh and weigh self and am back to 64kgs.

Following week - Oxford

2008-09-05T09:27:00.000+01:00

Taking a little break from American girl coz she is insane, and trying to go to do a class at the gym each night. Am eating special k for breakfasts with skim milk, Ryvita and ham and mustard for lunch and then fish or salad for dinner. Have superfood one night of brown rice, broccoli and baked trout. I sprinkle some chilli and coriander over the top to bake. Is delicious and quite filling as I was very hungry from gym.

Dimitri from my bus invites me out with his workmates in the local village of Wallingford. His mates are lovely single girls and immediately we start talking about periods and vibrators and ignore Dimitri. Dimitri is quite the man about town in Wallingford anyway and so he is constantly wandering off to chat to other people. Me and the single girls drink 8 pints and tell each other we love each other and swap numbers. I tell them I live with my ex boyfriend who hates me and they listen aghast and fascinated. Decided that the upside of having a car wreck of a life is get lots of attention and lovely new friends.

Scottish man texts me that he has just arrived back from Germany and has missed me. I have not heard from him in two weeks and have been hysterically awaiting his call so am delighted and relieved that he is still on the scene. I lose interest in two new best friends and text him flirty replies and ask if he bought me back chocolate. He asks what I am doing. I say I am out with new friend Dimitri and that he is introducing me to some local people. Scottish man says I am flirt and that Dimitri probably has designs. It occurs to me that maybe all males DO fancy me but then Dimitri asks me if I broke my nose when I was younger so I assume he thinks I have a funny hook nose just like the kids at my primary school said. Am very happy about slight jealousy on part of Scottish man though.

I tell Scottish man on the phone about American girl and he nick names her CAG which is short for Crazy American Girl. He is funniest man ever.

At closing time Dimitri and I weave back to our bus talking at the top of our lungs. He introduces me to his girlfriend when we get back to Oxford and she takes an immediate dislike to me but she is sober and we are in very very high spirits so I am sure that it is not personal nor does she assume that I am trying to cop off with her boyfriend because that would be anti feminist.

The following day at work am very very hungover and have to eat canteen ladies lovely suspiciously creamy soup and a bag of crisps. Stare at computer screen all day and do nothing. Decide to have day off diet and that night I stop at Marks and Spenser and buy hot pizza bread and then make pesto spaghetti with chilli oil and ignore Jake and eat in front of television while trying to remain horizontal at all times. Scottish man texts me saying he will be in Oxford on the weekend and perhaps he would take me out for a romantic meal in the Cotswolds. I dare to hope this might come to fruition but have to play it very cool so I do not commit to any arrangement or confirm that I am free.

Following week - Oxford

2008-09-04T09:42:00.000+01:00

The following week I catch up over Mohitos with American girl. I have work the next day so I have two Mohitos and some mineral water. There are lots of sugar in those and that’s why they are so yummy. I think will try and have them instead of dinner. American girl has five Mohitos and tells me that she has been having affair with local Oxford boy who apparently has been fired from his work for turning up late and now has been evicted from his flat. She tells me that she went to his flat the other night drunk and that she stood outside his window howling his name. ‘Honey do you think I lost my cool a little?’ she asks. ‘Yes American girl’ I respond. ‘I think you lost your cool a little’. Then I do Cra-zy signals behind her head. ‘What shall I do?’ She asks. I said ‘I think you should MAYBE not get involved with a derelict drug user and perhaps just stick with your CIA husband in America’. I say. ‘Oh what would you know loser’ she says. She orders another Mohito and advises me that she has slept with the bartender and that ‘his dick was so big’ that ‘she wanted to feed it a peanut’. Her crazy is HIGHLY amusing to me. I say I need to get going as I haven’t had dinner. She tells me I am no fun and I leave her at the bar with her mobile incessantly texting derelict loser man. She makes me feel like I am very together and sober.

The following night I run for 8k and when I get home Jake yells at me so I call and make American girl come and try the local fish place with me. I order mussels in a garlic broth and then a salmon and chilli risotto. This is healthiest thing on the menu and is not skinny food but I figure its ok as I’ve run so far I am weak. American girl orders bread and then sausages and mash. Half way through the meal and on her third large wine, she knocks it into her food. She continues to eat winey mess and announces loudly that she was ‘really in the mood for a fuck.’ Restaurant is quiet Tuesday night atmosphere with lots of pensioners. When I excuse myself to go home, American girl asks loudly for her wine soaked food to be put in a doggy bag. She tries to convince me to come out drinking with her but I am saved by her derelict lover who wanders by and she sashays off after him. Is interesting being the sober adult one of the relationship. I think of this as I walk home. Then I get home and Jake has pulled out all of my bank statements, photos, documents and mail which he had filed for me nicely while we were still liking each other. He has emptied them out of folders and onto big mess on floor. I take all the photos out that are of him. I write ‘cunt’ on the back of each and every one of them, and leave them for him to find. Again, a time consuming process but I persevere.

At midnight American girl texts that her derelict lover has ‘punched her in the face’. I decide trip to London is in order to see normal friends.

Back in Oxford

2008-08-27T12:28:00.001+01:00

Return back to England at midnight and Jake does not speak to me. Was nightmare journey with random 8 hour pause in Singapore at which point was not sure if it was morning or night-time. Decided to have toenails done and feet massaged and then Thai head massage. Scottish man rang me when I was having my feet done and we talked for the whole 3 hour stopover. We make a plan to meet up with him back in England the following week on Robbie Burns night and go out for Haggis. I suspect Haggis will be high in Calories, but do not mind because can just push around plate and act like thin person and not eat, so that Scottish man will love me and think I am a waif.

First week back in back water hick office is horrible. Weather is freezing cold and depressing and I get cow shit all over my expensive boots every day. I have to wait for bus in the dark as is freezing depths of winter and only Dimitri breaks the monotony by waiting for me at the bus stop with a lovely warm skinny decaf cappuccino for me. I have found a place to have warm toast bagel every morning on my way to the bus stop. For lunch I try to have sandwiches but the stress of Jake having not spoken to me and my boots possibly being ruined has messed up my appetite. Each day for four days at lunchtime, I eat only half a sandwich. At dinner time I eat my usual spicy lentil soup and get this - can NOT finish it. On Friday morning before work I weigh self and am 62kg. And I have not even exercised. Am happiest ever as am seeing Scottish man tonight and feel very thin. Perhaps he will love me.

I stop off to see Sally at her house in London on way to see Scottish man. She gives me a plate of hummous and pita bread to line our stomachs but I eat only the bread as can not eat garlicky hummus just before grand reunion with Scottish man. I drink a bottle of wine with her and Niles. I bring them chocolates which Sally of course can’t eat because of perpetual diet. I stop drinking wine as I am afraid that with a loose tongue I might accidently tell Scottish man that I love him when he next says something brilliant. I get ready to see Scottish man and dress in matching underwear and outfit I have been picking all week. I ask Sally’s advice on how I look and she advises she is not a lezzer and when I try to show her pretty matching underwear Sally shields her eyes and makes gagging sound. Have perfect amount of fake tan on and even Sally comments that I am thin. I dress in casual outfit and winter tartan new jacket and take the c2c train to Essex to see Scottish man. He picks me up from Station. I have not seen him for six weeks and besides being so pale he was almost blue he was still very handsome and had beautiful black curls etc.

He cooks dinner delicious pasta with mozzarella basil and tomato. He is not drinking but I have had some wine with Sally and this tides me over. He has more shoes than I do but not in a gay way but in a metrosexual way and we have a happy discussion about shoes and the importance of them to your general wellbeing. He makes me a cup of tea and I say ‘I love him I love him I love him’ 20 times while he is out of the room to get it out of my system so I can act discerning and slightly haughty when he arrives back. We talk and watch American sitcoms into the night. In the morning he makes beautiful breakfast of eggs scrambled perfectly and bacon on ciabatta. I mainly just push it round my plate in front of him and then stuff huge mouthfuls in my mouth while he is out of the room. At the same time miming to his back that I love him.

Week four oxford

2008-08-22T15:37:00.001+01:00

I tell Jake I am moving out because I hate him. He tells me I am horrible and that I can not stop paying rent as he cant afford to live there on own. He threatens to sue. I agree to stay for next two months and then we can get out of lease. We agree to live side by side as have been doing and not to do anything inconsiderate like take other people back to the house for shagging when other is there.

I go home to New Zealand for a holiday to be bridesmaid for Rachel. I arrive in New Zealand and weather is sunny and wedding is to be near beach. I stop off first at home to have mothers home cooking and wine by pool with sisters. Sisters are thin and sit near pool with large cold glasses of Sauvignon in bikinis. Their current thing is oysters and vodka shotglasses. Is perfect for summer evenings. Lovely lovely alcoholic sisters. I forgive them for their thinness. I then head to west coast of NZ to do bridesmaid duties.

Am cursing those last Oxford blowouts with American girl as Bride has gotten serious case of bridorexia. She has barely any curves or anything left. I ask her what her secret is and she says that she ‘hardly drinks anymore’ as no longer lives in London. This is one diet I will not be trying to emulate.

Staying at bride’s house for days preceding wedding we organise tables, lights, menus and gift register. Bride does not eat at all in the three days. I have no car and am dependant on her for transport. I feel that I should be as thin as her and therefore can’t ask for nine pints and kebab which is what I crave. I text my family from my bedroom. ‘Help’ I text ‘have not eaten for day and a half there is no food in the house and we never go anywhere that sells food’. My sisters text back ‘we will come down soon for wedding and bring food. Just drink wine in the interim ‘ ‘no wine in house ’ I text back. I don’t think they know what to say. Is alien concept.

The next day Odile flies back from London for one and a half days as she is hard-hitting city lawyer. She comes into bride’s house and I am lying down half conscious on floor with hunger. I point at mouth as this is all I can manage. Odile gets straight to action despite her jetlag. ‘Im taking Arabella to pick up the wedding maps’ she says. She drives me straight to a café where I get a savoury muffin filled with sundried tomatoes and feta, and a pie and I order a glass of wine in a paper cup to drink while we drive round getting maps. I stare at Odile in adoration. She has saved me.

Wedding day dawns bright and clear and bride looks thin waif like and beautiful. She walks down outside aisle with red carpet and petals. It is very moving. Afterwards we sit at top table and we are served salmon on citrus mash. Me other bridesmaids and bride all stop talking and eat the mash in fast greedy spoonfuls. Look up and see alcoholic sisters watching us bemusedly. They come up to top table and bring their portions of mash. ‘It appears you all need some carbs’ they say scraping their mash onto our plates. Lovely sisters.

Friday of week three

2008-08-21T16:05:00.001+01:00

Friday morning Dimitri is explaining how to make low fat Ragu from scratch on our bus. I get a text from Scottish man saying ‘are you in London this evening?’
I have no plans to be in London at all that weekend. ‘Yes will be in London why?’ I text back.’ What’s up? ’.

‘Thought we might have a drink’ he said. Frick, I think, have not even told him I live in Oxford. I look like shit. I am wearing brown tartan trousers with scuffed bottoms, a red shirt which is too small round my arms and pushes out arm flesh, and a pale turquoise wool scarf which goes down to knees. But must see Scottish man who I love and want to marry. He texts ‘I’ll be in the city around 7 - lets say Liverpool St’. ‘Ok will try’ I text back to appear breezy and not desperate. Outfit I have on will not do at all.

I eat no lunch in order to try to get skinny to see him that evening. I tell boss I have appointment and leave at 3pm to get into London it takes about half an hour to get to reading from my work and half an hour from there. In London, I go to Selfridges and get eyebrows done and moustache removed with ancient Indian art of threading. I go upstairs to the outfits sections after this and buy entire new outfit and sexy boots, short black dress and officy shirt for under this so looks like I have come from work and am naturally starchy and white and clean. I dispose of the trousers, red top, and scarf in a nearby dumpster. I buy deodorant and toothbrush. I change into new outfit and redo hair in changing room at Selfridges. Dress makes boobs appear to hang round stomach so I buy new bra and run in and change this also. Rush to Liverpool street and use station toilet to brush teeth and preen slow down walk to a saunter looking as if just came in from work looking for quiet drink. Scottish man is sitting with pint and watching me. He still has black curls and clothes are trendy and he is already making amusing wisecracks when I arrive. He comments that I am looking hot. I roll eyes as if ‘of course’. When he turns back to get me a drink I high five myself in excitement that he thinks I’m hot and not big fatty in gross unmatching clothes which I would have been if it were not for lovely Selfridges.

I tell Scottish man all my stories about Christian and how I hated him. Scottish man offers to violently dispose of him for me. I tell him about my friend whos husband went off with her best friend and he listens most interestedly and asks lots of questions. He pays for every round of drinks. We find another quieter bar. We talk about music and movies and how he is Scottish and loves poetry and did a masters in American literature. We do quotes and I laugh hysterically. ‘If we get married’ he says, ‘what will happen when you stop finding me funny?’
‘I will never stop finding you funny’ I say. We get kicked out of bar and head back on C2C train to his place. In morning wake up and he has enormous apartment with lots of Kitchen things for his amazing cooking. We read some of his books in bed. He gets up to make me breakfast.

I come downstairs and he is making eggs Benedict and the hollandaise from scratch. He adds asparagus on the side and a dash of truffle oil to the eggs. He comes out of kitchen to serve me and as he walks back I mouth I LOVE YOU to his back. Then I text Sally: ‘he made hollandaise from scratch I think I might accidently tell him I love him which is too much for second date’

She texts back: ‘is not a date - you live with your ex boyfriend in a house of hatred. Move out of house and then go on date with Scottish man. You are whore’.

She can call me what she likes while I am eating beautiful breakfast in lovely apartment with Byronish Scottish man with black curls and dancing eyes. After breakfast we take a walk around random Essex lake and feed the ducks. He laughs at me being scared of swans as am city girl. Have not mentioned I actually live in Oxfordshire now and work in Oxfords arsehole.

Week three oxford

2008-08-20T15:34:00.000+01:00

Found a morning buddy as well so am happiest. He is local bloke called Dimitri and takes my bus to the Country back bollocks offices every morning. He is amusing and does accents. He also loves food and recommends all the places I should go to eat alone. His mother cooks proper Greek food and he tells me the recipes and describes them. Our bus goes past her house and we wave to Dimitris Greek mother every morning.

We start a little morning routine where whoever out of me and Dimitri gets to the bus stop first goes in to get the coffee and the other one flags down the bus. Being the back of beyond the buses only come once an hour. Mornings are SO much more interesting now.

And in evenings American girl meets me. If not, then I have soup in different room from Jake so he can’t tell me off. This weeks growlings include that I am ‘naïve about people and just think I can make friends with a random bubble and he wont want anything in return’, and that I ‘don’t understand the way the world works’ and that I don’t know anything about England. Also going out to eat all the time is ‘stupid’ given the ‘current financial climate’ and I’m in for ‘a shock when I finally leave here and move back to London as I wont be able to afford rent’. I ask what a bubble is and he says bubble and squeak/Greek -is cockney rhyming slang. I tell Jake that English people are racist. I wonder when Jake is going out and leaving me in big flash house alone.

American girl rings and says lets do dinner. I say I’ve had my soup but can meet down the road for a quick drink. She says ‘ok let me just have some chicken first. We meet an hour later; I have bought a nice bottle of wine for us. She arrives and says she is hungry and orders a bowl of fries, a salad and some chorizo in red wine. She talks non stop and she stuffs food in her mouth. ‘Did you not say you ate chicken before you came?’ I ask her. ‘Yeah but I’m so fucking stoned right now’ she says. ‘Lets take this bottle back to your place’. I had noticed that she asked a lot of questions but could not concentrate long enough to hear the answers.

Back at big flash house she introduces herself to Jake and kisses him on both cheeks and convinces him to drink our wine with her. I am losing interest in the course of the evening and I go to the kitchen to make some salad to take for lunch the next day. American girl comes into kitchen and says she needs some ‘fucking honey toast’. While I am putting honey on her toast I hear rustling and turn around and she is going through my cupboard and eating my imported French biscuits stuffing them in her mouth 4 at a time. I usher them both out and they both decide to go visit her drug dealer to buy some pot and I go to bed.

I am starting to think American girl might be a LITTLE bit of a touch CRAZY.

Week two oxford

2008-08-19T16:03:00.000+01:00

I finally have to go and live in big flash house and start the new job in Oxford. Jake now no longer giving me silent treatment but tells me off everyday for being the worst person to live with ever. I tell him he is boring and eats the same food everyday and has negative outlook on life and is tight. This gives him the rage.

I come home and he talks about mango skins then about leaving cap off toothpaste and then when I try and watch television he says is annoying American crap and changes channel. I take to reading in my room in the evenings after the gym. If I run far enough I just go straight to sleep. Sometimes I stare at the phone and wonder if Scottish man will text me and eventually I fall asleep dreaming of marrying him.

Big flash house is very close to lots of nice restaurants. Decide that not speaking to Jake is no reason not to try them. Decide to take self out after gym on Tuesday to a nearby Japanese restaurant.

I take my current novel, Heat! and go for glass of wine at local pub first. The girl standing at the bar next to me is ordering wine. She asks what kind of wine it is the bar tender says ‘dry’. She says ‘gross’ in an American accent, and then the bartender says ‘you can add lemonade to it if you want’. We both snort and then the bartender goes out the back. She turns to me and says ‘gee I never saw trash take itself out before’. ‘AHAHHAHAHAAH! American girl’ I said dying of laughter. Was very excited that she was American. She was drinking alone as well as she is a student but her husband was in America and paying for her to study. He is in the CIA just like off the movies. We sat inside and giggled. ‘I fucking love you Arabella you know you are fucking great we towdally need to hang out’. She says. ‘I love you TOO American girl’ I say. We swap numbers.

I go to Japanese place and order something and I don’t know what im ordering but I love the freedom of being able to do that. When it comes out is like a meal for six people, full of veges and raw fish and a big sizzling bowl of broth. You put the food in to cook it and then wait and then eat it. Took ages and I was getting bored and hungry. It is not a good way to eat. Am also quite embarrassed at amount of food and eating alone.

American girl texts the next night. ‘Meet me for dinner so we can talk shit’ she says. Yay - I now have a friend in Oxford so I can ignore Jake and hang out with her. So I meet her at local gastro pub called Cape of Good Hope. I can not find anything low fat on the Menu. She orders steak with butter sauce and fries. I have falafel salad. She tells me that her husband is in America but she is thinking of having affair with a local Oxford boy. She is SO scandalous and interesting. She suggests taking bottle of wine and drinking it in big flash house. I decline as have work tomorrow but mainly because do not want to make Jake yell at me.

Do not go to gym as much for the rest of the week as I now have a friend to do much more interesting stuff with. On Thursday night we go out for Mohitos and Pizzas. Weigh self Friday morning and am back to 64kg.

Week One in Oxford

2008-08-18T10:00:00.000+01:00

Finally have to start work in Oxford and start spending time there. New job in Oxford is in small town called Crowmarsh Gifford. Population is like 14 people and everyone in my office is over 50 and wearing short sleeve shirts with tie. Worst fashion faux pas ever. Noone is amusing. Office backs onto an actual swamp and I have to wait for infrequent bus outside graveyard which has no light. I get mud every day on my expensive High Heels. Noone else wears high heels.

Have long bus ride everyday into Country backwater. Get up before Jake everyday and get skinny decaf coffee in the Oxford High Street. Have packed out my little cupboard at work with Ryvitas, Muller Lights, and have sliced chicken breasts and mustard on Ryvita for lunch. In evenings I have Spicy Lentil Organic Soup. As have no friends in Oxford yet and Jake does not speak, have plenty of time to gym in evenings. I manage Monday Tuesday and Wednesday to do classes but Thursday I am too weak, as soup for dinner and no bread can make you all lovely and weak and fainty.

Have also started having smoothies every day. I use mango and skimmed milk and is only 1.5 weight watcher points. Is great way to start the day. Does cause problems as in the rush I have to leave Mango skin and pulp all over kitchen and Jake gets into rage when he gets up. This was ok at first because I was long gone but then he worked out you can be abusive over email and I got what is now referred to as the famous ‘list’. This was a list that arrived by email from him one day with a list of all the things I do wrong. I forward this around my friends and after the horror subsides we mock him and draft our own list about him such as ‘is pale skinny English man with no tan’.

I manage to gym 5 times in one week. In the isolation of the countryside, my only contact is emailing Sally all day at work to find out how many calories we are consuming. I can not buy Laura Mercier or Mac Makeup in Oxford. Have ugly bald face and squinty eyes as a result. This does not matter as noone over 50 in office to see. On verge of depression but scales tell me am between 61 and 62kg which makes it almost worth it.

Friday night arrives and friends Vince and Hermione announce they are coming up to big flash house on river for dinner. I experience joy like have never known joy before. I clean house from top to bottom and Jake comments that this is first time have contributed to housework since moving in.

I prepare full menu with what is in fridge. I make Thai Coconut and Lentil soup and then pan seared Hare with Strawberry dressing. Then I stuff tiny roasted Quails and make Parmesan and Sun dried Tomato Polenta with it and Beans. Am tired and sweaty when we finally eat it. Vince has smuggled out of London across the border some Laura Mercier Makeup and I nearly weep with Joy. I give him extra helpings.

Scottish man texts and I read text under table, he says: ‘having Friday night with the boys -they are not as entertaining as you’.

Gay John texts and says: ‘How is your cold loveless home on the swamp? Please note I am in theatre surrounded by celebrities. London is fabulous. Mwah’.

Following week

2008-08-15T14:32:00.001+01:00

I still have to work in London and hate Jake so spend most of the following week in the empty London flat. I still have a grace period before I officially have stopped paying rent in London and therefore decide to stay there for the weekend also. On Friday I skip lunch entirely as noone from work is around to convince me to have Thai food or red wine. I leave work early as its Friday to meet Sally and Niles for champagne. Champagne is first thing I have eaten since a cereal bar for breakfast. Olives arrive. I mainline them. I tell Sally and Niles everything is great in new flash house on river and that could not be happier with Jake. Niles goes to toilet. ‘You want to move out don’t you’ says Sally. ‘Is moving in nerves’ she says.

Sally and Niles giggle lovingly and plan their wedding. I order bottle of rose for self as they are buying lovers bottles for two. I ignore their stupid marital happiness and begin long discussion with stranger at the next table.

I check messages to see if Jake has left furious text. There is a text from a hot Scottish bloke I had met in a pub a year or ago and we had sent the odd flirty text ever since but I had never laid eyes on him since. He had just facebooked me. ‘You are cute on facebook’ text says. ‘I see you are in Notting Hill tonight so am I, how about we meet’. I had always been intrigued to see him again as recalled black curly hair and intense eyes like Lord Byron. Also, crucially recall him being funny. I had always had a boyfriend before though when we discussed meeting up, that I liked. Do not care for boyfriend right now. I text back ‘Will be at Notting Hill tube around 11’. I then drink the full bottle of Rose in short space of time. I look up and Sally and Niles have gone.

I get to tube station and Scottish man is there. Has black curls and intense eyes. He tells me he does not live in Scotland but in Essex and has just come in on train. Immediately he is funny and I am so drunk I fall about laughing. Pubs are closed so we wander to my place. He has to hold me up. We both drink gin and tonics in my lounge. He immediately mocks me for everything and I find this amusing. We talk until the wee hours. We both fall asleep on my couches listening to Kate Nash.

Awake in horror and look over at next couch at byron-esque black curls and peaceful Scottish freckled face. He opens eyes and I expect horror and quick exit. He makes joke and then picks up conversation from where he left off. He tells me he loves Friends and Scrubs and American TV not British shows about ugly people. He tells me that he loves the water and we work out we are both the eldest siblings. He SEEMS to be relatively perfect and then he says ‘hey so this week Ive been cooking really beautiful meals for one. I cooked a whiskey sauce for my steak and I got a Vanilla pod and I scraped out the middle bla bla’ did not hear more as blood was rushing in temples. Man who cooks and loves food and talks about food. Is too good to be true. ‘Where is your boyfriend?’ He asks. ‘we are having some difficulties, he does not like to travel’. ‘I like to travel’ says Scottish guy. ‘He does not believe in marriage’ I say. ‘I believe in Marriage’ says Scottish guy. ‘He does not want to leave England and go and live in NZ one day’ I say. ‘I will move to NZ with you’ says Scottish guy. ‘He is tight’ I say. ‘Would you like some cash’ says Scottish guy.

I ran to toilet dry retch and text Sally.: ‘Took home man from Essex last night and I love him and want to marry him’ She texts back ‘You and Jake are just both panicking about moving in as is big step. Jake is reacting by being full of rage and you react by wanting to marry a random chav from Essex. Calm down. Is fine’.

Scottish guy and I talk on couches all day until 4pm. Then we decide to go to the pub for pint and food. He pays for everything. I have headache and he runs off to get Panadol and brings it to me. I order crab ravioli with butter sauce. We hold hands at table and then he leaves to go back to Essex. I go back to couch and lie down where he sat and stroke the indentation he left dreamily. I then pull myself together and decide to weigh self after butter sauce and various Pizza incidents. Strangely am 62kg. Smallest weight yet. - Strange as I have essentially not been dieting. Must remember this combination of stress, alcohol abuse, and butter ravioli for future.

Sunday Lunch

2008-08-14T11:04:00.002+01:00

Next day Gay John is coming up to Oxford to see house as I feel the need to prove to him that Oxford is not a ‘small village’ and that I have not moved to a backwater swamp. I get up early to go and get food to make in gorgeous kitchen overlooking the river. I decide to make a courgette and Boursin soup that I saw Nigella had recommended to start and then delicious wintery carby pie with mash and peas.

I still have no money cards however. This is a concern as can not buy pastry for pie or ingredients for delicious buttery mash. I go into the main bedroom where Jake sleeps. It smells like booze and fags and I curl nose in disgust even though this is probably what my own room smells like of a morning. I ask him if I can please borrow some money. ‘No’ he says, ‘you have to learn a lesson about gallivanting around and being hopeless’. I tell him hysterically that ‘I learned that lesson when I was outside in the rain with more than I could carry and no freaking HELP’ I say. ‘I don’t have any cash’ he says. ‘Fine I will take your card’ I say. ‘You cant use another persons card’ he says. He is stuck in ancient England where he thinks that a money card is like a cheque and its forgery if you use someone elses. ‘I will just take some cash out’ I say. ‘I can’t give you my pin number!’ he says in horror. I decide yelling in anger all the time is negative so instead I have decided to be passive aggressive and annoy him in other ways. I go downstairs and make tiny rips with my fingernails in all his tea bags subtly so they ruin his cups of tea. This is actually quite a time consuming activity but I persevere.

I find old outdated chequebook in my room and decide to shop at dodgy backstreet greengrocers where they accept cheques. I ring Gay John on my way back from the greengrocers. ‘Bring with you some cash for me’ I say. ‘I left my cards behind the bar a few nights ago’. ‘Why cant your country backwater boyfriend help you out?’ he asks. ‘Because he is a tight English cunt’ I say. Am very aggressive towards the English at the moment.

Spend LOVELY morning making a chicken and mushroom pie. Make a delicious white sauce with herbs and spices and mix in onions and sautéed mushrooms of various types. It is cold and bright outside and inside the kitchen windows are all steamy. I sip wine and stir things with glee. I put the pie in the oven, blend the courgettes for the soup and leave it simmering and make a delicious mash with mustard and butter and lots of cracked pepper.

Gay John arrives and he has bought beautiful creamy lemon cheesecake for desert. He says its horribly rainy out here in the ‘middle of nowhere’ so he has not had a chance to stop and get me cash. I leave him and Jake to have a drinky and I finish the lunch. Jake of course is happy to eat the delicious food, just not happy to put any money towards it or pick up a fork and help make it.

While I yell from the kitchen about how I lost my cards and have no cash Gay john says he will pop out now while I finish up lunch and get me some cash. Jake asks him to get him some cigarettes while he is out. Gay John says ‘no, cigarettes are disgusting and how about while YOU are out getting fags YOU get some cash for your girlfriend?’ Gay John can be quite direct. Jake does not agree to this but they discuss it and they both end up going out for a walk. I stay in the kitchen with the lovely pie and let it sit, while I spoon the creamy courgette soup into bowls. Then I have a lovely glass of red wine and gaze out at the river waiting for them. I have moment of wondering why they are taking so long and think perhaps Gay John has converted Jake to gayness and they are having lovely gay bum sex somewhere. Oooo totally hope so. This would solve all my problems.

They arrive back and Gay John comes in and hisses that Jake just ‘stood there completely nonchalant while I got cash out for you - it is like Carrie says on sex in the city - I kept waiting for the great moment of shame that never came’.

We sit down for the delicious carby lunch of carbyness. I bitch at Jake all through lunch as he eats it, doesn’t compliment it and doesn’t help dish up. Gay john says we are like Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor and that our living situation is a car crash.

After lunch to negate the fullness I walk gay john to the station and wave him off. ‘Off you go back to your cold loveless home now’ he says, laughing manically. Then I do indeed go back to the cold loveless home, and set up the spare room to be my separate room. I am still full from lunch so have no dinner but have had over a million calories today so hardly a saving.

Following week

2008-08-13T12:14:00.000+01:00

Stay in London for last week that am paying rent have only small amount of outfits and makeup left that is not in Oxford. Flatmate and I never mention snog and never make eye contact ever again.

However is least of worries as trying to diet and move and find job in oxford is v difficult. Jake and I do not speak on phone all week. He has moved from rage into silent white fury. Is not assisted by fact that he is in big flash house on own with most of my belongings and I stay in London to gallivant. I have leaving drinks with everyone all week. I ty to run every lunch time and then eat only a bagel and cup of fruit for lunch.,I manage this only once as Claudette and the few others from work who I don’t hate take me out for lunch each day to counsel re relationship problems.

Am offered 6 month job in Oxford. Claudette and work friends think that perhaps should not move there as Jake is filled with rage. I explain his threat to sue and beautiful house where I can have dinner parties. Perhaps Jake could go out lots. He has not spoken to me since I called him a tightarse and threw change at his head.

Decide to take 6 month job so can live in flash house without commute. Tell Jake will be there on weekend. On Thursday drink three bottles of red wine with workmates for third time that week. No food in house so have Thai noodles which I eat in street on way to house. On Friday I take the day off work and pack suitcase to head to oxford. Turns out to be much more stuff in my room to pack than one suitcase. Is three stripy chav laundry bags full. Have to make taxi driver come into room to help me carry them all. Taxi driver is Serbian and asks if I have boyfriend. I say yes and he asks if I like threesomes. I get him hurriedly out of my bedroom. At Paddington have to ask random student to help me onto train. I thank them very quickly before they can also make deviant requests.

When I am on the train I realise my money cards are missing and have been since I left them behind bar at pub with workmates the night before. Also have not eaten since noodles the night before and am sweating excess alcohol.

I ring Jake constantly all the way to Oxford on the train. He does not respond, even though his secretary advises me that he too, has the day off work. I count the times I have called him. Have called 41 times. I left 5 messages saying ‘Hi, realise you hate me but have no money for cab and I have too much to carry. Can you come and help me?’ He responds ‘watchin’ football.’ He actually did spell watching ‘watchin’. Like hes a cool cat chilling out. Gives me the rage.

I arrive in Oxford and scrape together £5.50 in coins and ask cab driver to drive me to flash house on river. He gets one street away and money runs out. ‘Please don’t leave me’ I say ‘I cant carry all my stuff’. He leaves me. It starts to rain. I text jake who is in pub ‘watchin’ football one street over. He does not come to help.

Finally two Hungarian men come along and help me and carry my chav bags all the way to big flash house. Gratefully I invite them into house for cup of tea and to show them river view. I have no sugar or milk so they shake head in disgust and leave.

I order a whole Pizza to self with thick base and delicious meat all over using the money from the kitty that Jake has obviously set up for just such emergencies. I settle in and watch back to back scrubs and friends. Pretend big flash house is own house all to self and Jake does not exist.

He comes in when pub closes and slurs abuse at me because you ‘come all the way to fuggin englin and only wash American craps and telly’. I tell him British humour is unamusing and he nearly has embolism and goes to bed. He ruins my Pizza experience and I do not binge eat the whole thing in one sitting as planned. There is a slight chance I will be pleased about this later. I sleep in spare room.

2008-08-12T09:47:00.002+01:00

That weekend, I told Jake needed one more weekend with friends in London. Told him to bring car down Sunday and we would both take last of my stuff out of London flat and move me into big flash house.He was disaproving but I was still mad about his inablility to cook dinner for me when I had enourmous commute for his benefit so felt justified in spending time with less annoying people.

Friday of weekend went out with Dario and Lee and other gays. Had lovely mohitos in crowded bar then went on boat where we talked about my boobs and how the gays love them but not in a pervy way. Was 12 pm when I stumbled in and hot flatmate was up drinking whiskey. He was exuberantly drunk. Was unusual as normally it is me who is hammered. We decided to take whiskey into garden.

While drinking in garden at midnight, flatmate lurched over and gave me drunken snog. I then hurriedly got up and lurched indoors doing full body slam on kitchen door and then picking self up off inevitable ground. Had managed not to eat dinner earlier though so was good eating day.

In morning woke with hideous hangover from whiskey and although stomach felt flat as had eaten no dinner, had to get out of flat in order to never see flatmate again. I texted Hermione who lives round corner and said have caused shame by drunken snog. ‘Meet me for breakfast immediately’ she says. She has croissant as she is thin and not hungover. I have muesli and soy milk and fruit and try not to vomit into it. I hold head in shame for course of breakfast. ‘Am whore’ I say. ‘Am whore’. ‘No’ she says. ‘It is possible that Jake is just not man for you. Perhaps you can marry hot flatmate and move to Australia with him?’ I gag into cereal bowl. Text Gay John to see what he says. ‘You are whore’ he texts back.

Loiter round corner of house till flatmate leaves, rush inside get changed and then head to soho for friend Nettys birthday. I am first there in v posh bar. Meant to be having sushi which would have been good for diet but at last minute all the English boys want to have Chinese. Probably they wanted crispy duck. All English men love crispy duck. Is v fattening so I had steamed dumplings instead. Looked at their crispy duck with lust though and slight bitterness.

Stayed in restaurant drinking beers till 1am until Chinese people kick us out. Wake up in London flat fully clothed, contacts in and fat from Chinese. Flatmate appears to be nowhere about. Horror dawns as Jake arrives and I have not packed anything in my flat for the move. Jake erupts in fury at my gallivanting and complete inability to pack even a single shoe. ‘Selfish’ he yells. ‘Have been at home getting our house ready and what do you do - gallivant’. He is also hung over and after putting some things in plastic bags and tossing in his car I promise him I will buy him McDonalds to say sorry. Is v bad diet day. When get to McDonalds I have only £10 and food costs £11. Jake has to put up one pound. He asks me for pound back when we drive back to my flat. I scream at him that he is tight English cunt and throw change at his head hitting car window. He drives back to Oxford leaving me behind in London.

One week later - THURSDAY

2008-08-11T11:40:00.001+01:00

Have had to revise diet to accommodate new commute from Oxford. All my things are still in London flat with hot flatmate but Jake very much of view that if I have forced him to move into big flash house I must be there. Breakfast is therefore at 630 when get on bus from Oxford. Is currently special k cereal bars (90 calories per bar) but in my opinion this just kick starts appetite as am starving at 9 when get to work. Try to run at lunchtimes round Trafalgar square to Buckingham palace and beyond. Much harder when tired from commute. Managed Monday and Wednesday runs only, this week.

Allowing self prunes or dried apricots in afternoon. Claudette often comes over and perches her tinyness on my desk. ‘Have a kitkat’ she says. ‘No’ I say. ‘Stay in London’ she says.’ No’ I say. ‘You are not only fat but are a deserter’ she says. I entertain self by teaching her to say cunt and then laughing hysterically at her French accent.

Normally get back to Oxford for 9pm. Jake gets annoyed as commute should not take this long. Monday and Tuesday I try to cook nice meals for him when I get in. He has normally snacked while making and argument brews while he watches me stuff food in own mouth while at same time yelling at him for not eating his after all my efforts. Hysteria levels rise each day with the tiredness.

Dinner situation culminated tonight as mobile phone cut out on bus home from London and I did not get in to big flash house till 930. Arrangement for today was that Jake would do dinner as long as was low fat and of course, simple as it was him cooking it. Got in and Jake answered door and yelled where had I been and why was I so useless with phone. I stormed past him straight to kitchen as had eaten only one finger of kitkat all afternoon. Found he had cooked himself spaghetti and tomato sauce but left the rest of spaghetti still in packet uncooked. ‘Would it have been too much to ask to cunting cook mine so I could have a night off cooking when I got here?’ I shrieked. ‘I didn’t know if you were coming home’ he said sullenly ‘you didn’t answer your phone’. ARE YOU EIGHT? I yelled ‘Are you? Are you EIGHT?’

In morning at 6am he got annoyed that ‘selfishly I woke him up’ when opened draw to get socks out. I was still not speaking to him but as I walked up road to get bus I could hear English accent yelling bla bla SELFISH blab la PHONE bla bla socks. Decide to stay in London with hot flatmate for rest of week.

Retrospective explanation for diet collapse

2008-08-08T14:34:00.001+01:00

The next day decided to have another day off in Oxford and avoid Christian. Spent day shopping and then got home one minute after I got in and I grabbed broom and pretended had been sweeping for hours. Jake came in the door and said ‘I have found a flat to live in will be cheaper if you leave London and move in with me’. Jake likes a bargain and this was him being romantic.

We went out for dinner to discuss and I had three large wines I ate Macaroni cheese even though was very high in fat. Then we went and saw flat. Was ugly. I insisted on looking at another overpriced flat down the road further as was exuberant with the wine. Overpriced flat was actually expensive entire huge house overlooking river. It even came with its own punt. ‘Please Jake please Jake can we live here with both our salaries half rent each we can afford’ I said. ‘No’ he said ‘you wont do anything around the house and will be out gallivanting whole time and I will be here cleaning up waiting for you paying high rent’. ‘Please won’t be like that’ I said, ‘will clean and will commute to work in London until find job in Oxford’. ‘Ok’ he said ‘but if you shaft me I will sue you and am not even joking as am lawyer’.

I made promise before having one more glass of wine at new local pub, and then stumbling back to London on bus to tell London friends I would be moving to Oxford. Got back to flat in London very late and told hot flatmate was leaving. Told him I would miss shirtless appearances. He backed away slowly. Texted gay John to get his approval. ‘You are leaving fashionista London and moving to Oxford to live in a swamp’ he texted back.

Day 15 Back on Track

2007-11-06T08:27:00.001Z

On Monday it was the most glorious moment waking up and calling in sick and knowing I would not have to see or talk to the Christian. I tried to get Jake to call in sick too but he takes his job all seriously and wouldn't. Also I think he liked the idea that I would stay home and cook for him and stuff which I was quite excited about doing but only for one day because then I would get bitter and resentful in manner of Sadie the cleaning lady.

I got up and watched back to back episodes of Friends and Scrubs and then realised it was midday and I hadn't done anything. I wandered into Oxford city centre and went to the covered markets. I had decided to make devilled sausages for Jake and so got all the ingredients. Then I met him for lunch in a gorgeus little pub with the yummiest wine list and fancy menu. I had squash and haloumi risotto and Jake had macaroni cheese and I ate half of his and all of mine and had two glasses of wine as well. Then he went back to work and I wandered home feeling full and got dinner on.

Then I boredly prowled round the house waiting for Jake to be home. Man being a housewife sucks. I looked around for some Valium but there was none so I wiled away the afternoon trying to hack in to Jake's neighbour's broadband. The happiest moment was when he finally came through the door and ended the monotony. And then, interesingly, he continued it, with a blow by blow account of his utterly boring day. He loved my devilled sausages on a crispy Jacket potato though. Then I realised I had forgotten to do my run. Decided I only have to run on workdays.

Day 14 Back on Track

2007-11-06T08:00:00.000Z

Today was Sunday but we had obligations. Had to get up early and drive 20 minutes away to take Jake's grandmother out for a pub lunch. Jake's grandmother is the Matriarch of the family and at 89 she is funnier than he is. And smarter, but then she IS a woman and he IS a man so it stands to reason.

When we arrived to pick her up she grabbed my hand and took me into her bedroom to show me her new outfit and also to bitch about other members of his family and turn me against them. This I find quite reasonable and is likely what I would spend my time doing at 89 so that is fine. We took her out for lunch and we had a glass of wine and I had a Thai vegetable curry and they had fish and chips which looked the yummiest.

After that we dropped her back off and went to museum and then to some markets and I tried to buy some boots. Everytime I tried some on they fitted my feet but when I zipped them up a roll of calf fat would appear over the top of the boot. I was horrified. This is a new level of fatness. One shop lady tried to get me to buy them anyway. I got the rage. In the end I dropped some boots on the floor and stormed out cursing all the stupid boots and boot makers in the world. Jake embarrassedly picked them up and put them back on the shelves and muttered 'frightfully sorry' because he's English even though there was noone around.

Actually earlier that day he demonstrated his Englishness because we went past this tiny butchers shop in Lavenham which always cuts up its different sausages and puts them on the counter for people to taste. I saw it and said 'oh YAY free sausages yum' and Jake fumbled round and said 'oh God are you going in there to eat their sausages?' and I ignored him and excitedly bounded in and tasted every single sausage and then was about to bound out again when Jake entered after me, having obviously been grappling with his issues outside. 'Oh' he said 'there are some sausages oh how nice' and then muttered 'must pop back later' and muttered something about 'perhaps buy some' and halfheartedly took one and then raced outside after me. I looked at him. Sometimes I feel sorry for the effort it must take to be that socially awkward.

Anyway for dinner we went to a buffet on a Jazz boat and I ate four helpings and three wines because I felt the need to get my moneys worth. Afterwards I felt so sick and uncomfortable that Jake and I decided that I was too full to go to work on Monday and should stay home and be his missus.

Day 13 Back on Track

2007-11-06T07:24:00.000Z

On Saturday morning Jake picked me up to go see his Mum. Normally you aren't supposed to be so excited about going to see the in-laws but I Love Jake's mum because she cooks the most beautiful food in all of the world. Last time we went she made a dish called 'sexy red rice' which was red rice soaked in apple juice and with peppers and Pomegranate seeds. Yummiest and healthiest. Then she made a Thai icecream for pudding with coconut milk and chili in it and it was a taste sensation.

She also lives in the most beautiful village called Lavenham and all the houses are wonky and crooked and it's tiny and a horror film was filmed there called The Witchfinder General and it's the coolest. So for me it's the happiest place in the world but of course to be cool when anyone said 'what are you up to this weekend?' I rolled my eyeballs into my head and was all 'oh have to go and see Jake's mom LAME' etc.

Wwe arrived she had made beautiful spicy citrus risotto and baked salmon done perfectly. It was the yummiest. When Jake gets there he talks for two minutes and then reverts to being a teenager and leaves me to make the conversation and help with the dishes and housework. This is OK because when me and his mum go to the kitchen to clean up and do things I can 'confide' in her about our 'relationship difficulties' but what I am really doing is telling on him so he gets in trouble. Funniest. And I can find out stuff like when he used to write love letters to his first girlfriend and then I can mock him about it later and call him a big giant homo and stuff.

For the rest of Saturday all I ate was a bag of Kettle chips and a small box of Jellybeans and Special K for breakfast. Have decided to relax foodwise over the weekend as have some food events to attend and also because on Monday I am going to start Shue's regime of running miles every day.

Day 12 back on track

2007-10-30T08:13:00.001Z

Fridays are brilliant in the office coz the Christian goes to teach at his church and Shue, who works part time, is there. I was very happy when she came in and said are we doing lunch today. I had had a bagel and coffee for breakfast.

For lunch we went to a Thai place that we went to once in the past when Gay Dario was still around. Over lunch we discussed diets and she discussed having liposuction as an emergency measure. We ordered starters she had spring rolls, and I had larb gai, which is yummy minced chicken and herbs and chilli. Then we had two realy hot curries and I had brown rice. Over lunch she told me that the best diet ever is to run every day and not like little piddly 20 minute ones like I had been doing. I said I had tried to run 4ish kms every day and 7 on the weekend and she said 'no point' you are better to do 7 k's a day and then 10 on the weekends.' SHE is so smart. She is the boss of all of the diets.

Must run 7kms every day. We decided to have a glass of wine over lunch to celebrate our new diet regimes. The combination of this and the chilli made me very giggly and floaty and we flounced back to work excitedly. Unfortunately when I got to the front steps of our building, I fell UP the steps, ripping my new funky stockings and horribly grazing my knee. For the rest of the day I had to walk around with a big rip in my stockings showing a white knee and a patch of matted blood.

French Claudette eventually caught sight of me, and in between crying with laughter and pointing out that I quite OFTEN fall over on Fridays, she gave me a plaster which completed my look.

I'm not proud of how I spent that Friday night. The local neighbourhood girls have started a pudding club and well, I went. Everyone had to bring something delicious and puddingy except for me I had to bring pizza as a base. We had it at Bree's house and she made a delicous moist ginger loaf. Hermione made ambrosia with marshmallows yogurt cream and fruit. There was a selection of pavlovas and a delcious giant dark chocolate torte. We also had wine and champagne. After some hours we danced for each other in the lounge and played games like who would you rather get off with Tony Blair or David Cameron. Was great laugh but am fat now.

Day 11 back on track

2007-10-30T07:24:00.000Z

This would be the first day in weeks that I actually stuck to the diet. I read somewhere that some supermodels eat normally every day apart from two, when they drink only vegetable water. Maybe I could be like that, only instead of eating normally the rest of the time I eat extra large amounts, and instead of eating just vegetable water for two days I could have say, only wine. THAT would be my favourite diet ever.

I had Special K and skim milk for breakfast, and was horribly late for work as a result. Note to self to stick with usual routine of rolling out of bed,and leaving house immediately, doing make up on the tube, and then eating breakfast at desk.

Lunch was a Muller Light and a small pot of hummous with crudites. In the afternoon I booked a massage for that evening on account of my rage. Jake said that working with the Christian had made me 'angry and tense' and 'ready to pounce alot of the time' so I should 'learn how to relax'. 'Yeah Jake' I thought 'it's coz of the CHRISTIAN and not coz of you being ANNOYING and saying INANE things which waste my time.' Jake also suggested I take some calming pills from Boots which are meant to suppress stress and irritation but he consistently tells me that they aren't working so THAT was a false economy.

My massage was at 8 and so I arrived at the gym at 7.30. I had only time to do a quick amount of exercise so I figured that the best thing was to run much faster than usual on the treadmill for 20 mins. This was still not very fast. However, I was purple and sweaty afterwards and so had a quick shower before the massage. The massage lady was skinny and I was quite embarrassed on account of she had to massage my back fat, but then I did relax and afterwards I went home and had carrot and coriander soup from Sainsburys and when Jake rang me he hardly annoyed me at all.

Day 10 back on track

2007-10-25T20:54:00.000+01:00

Had brilliant day swapping internet recipes over email with friend Hermione. I decided to make another delicious winter dish that night and cook for flatmate as he is still unwell and thought well I can't REALLY go to the gym if he needs me to cook.

It was a bad eating day actually on account of there is a new French girl who works with me and she is skinny but we have recently discovered a love of food and chocolate. Her name is Claudette and at first she was nice and brought chocolate to me which I declined and told her that I was far too fat to eat it but she should DEFINITELY eat it instead, because she needs to put ON weight she is that skinny. She insisted in her French accent that 'you are noo fat Arabella noo' but then one day I laughed at her when she was telling a story and instead of saying I just bit my tongue and said nothing she said 'I just bit my MOUTH and said nothing' and I slapped my thighs in mirth and shrieked at how she had it wrong. And then she looked at me and said sweetly in her cute French accent 'what are you laughing at you fat bitch?' and since then I have loved her.

Especially when she then sent me an email from across the room saying 'did you eat my Kit Kat? you know that is going to go straight in your arse' and she meant to say ON your arse and she said IN and I had these horrible visual pictures of trying to put a Kit Kat up my bum and I laughed so loudly that she heard me and said that I should shut my fat face.

I hadn't, as it happened, eaten her Kit Kat but now she buys them all the time to tempt me. So I ate half of one of her kitkats today, porridge for breakfast, a scoop of jellybeans as stupid Christian is away teaching at the church today, and I had soup and a roll for lunch.

Then I spent the afternoon planning dinner. I made borlotti beans and cabbage and onions all stewed together in herbs and olive oil with mustard and Tomato paste and fried with some pancetta. And on top I put some sausages but I gave my flatmate four and I had one and a half. I left the other half of that one in the oven and ate it later when I remembered it was there. And flatmate loved me and thinks I am a domestic goddess but then he coughed when Sex in the City was on and I had to tell him to leave the room and take his disgusting cough with him.

Day 9 back on track

2007-10-24T21:03:00.000+01:00

I just want to go ahead and take this opportunity to comment on some of the comments that have been posted on my blog. You guys are the funniest and coolest and most amusing. Mainly on account of some of you are quite abusive and stuff. I particularly liked the suggestion that we throw the Christian to the lions. Thanks to supporters and defenders of my blog entries - although it seems that someone who posted a comment stating 'Too much information, Yr mother' actually WAS my mother, and not, as another anonymous commenter suggested, 'an illiterate twat'. So just to advise that particular poster, who by the way I LOVE, that 'yr mother' (who is indeed MY mother) says that you are naughty and that she ought to wash your mouth out with soap. Although if she's offended by 'twat' I surely hope she IS too much of an 'illiterate twat' to notice that I used the C word quite liberally a while back.

Anyway hook yourself up with my Facebook profile - type in 'bridesmaids diet' and be my friend, or just click here. I am not proud or even picky so go on and friend me up and I am going to start posting my delicious low fat recipes on there. Or, indeed, high fat.

Um, so anyway on Tuesday I had a bagel for breakfast and then couldnt run at lunchtime on account of it was too cold. Both my flatmate and Jake are sick although thank God I don't have to cope with them both together. After a pureed vegetable cup of soup for lunch and a small wheat roll, I started thinking that the flatmate being sick would be a good opportunity to cook for him and I could try all my delicous winter recipes yet not eat any of them.

I made him a delicious beef stew which my friend Hermione gave me the recipe. She advised that I had to fry the beef in curry powder and 'evil butter' but I thought what the hey it's not like I will eat more than a mouthful. And then I added a can of beer, some mushrooms and some herbs. Then I got distracted listening to a long monologue from the flatmate about how sick he is, and then I accidentally burnt the stew and made it dry so there was a huge black hard bit along the bottom. I mashed it up with a fork and added a tin of tomatoes. As flatmate was starving I served it up to him shortly after this and he was very kind by saying that he loved it and especially loved the burnt bits as it gave it a nice 'Cajun' flavour. He would get on well with Vince. Perhaps Vince has schooled him in the art of being pleasing and distracting.

Anyway after making burnt shit and tomato stew I accidently ate some and had three large wines on account of, um, I wanted to and stuff.

Day 8 back on track

2007-10-23T08:16:00.000+01:00

Monday morning I had to do the usual get up early to get the bus back to London. This time however, the mists were hanging low covering Oxfordshire in a shroud of beauty and calmness. I'm just kidding. It was cold and I hated everyone.

In order to save time I did not shower or do my hair or makeup. My face was red and bald and I had almost no eyes. Because of the cold I had a cup of porridge when I got to work and a coffee. I put a dash of honey in it. I decided that since I had not showered the best thing to do would be to do a run at lunchtime and shower at work after that. So, I ran 4.4kms however it seemed to take me around 40 minutes. I emailed my friend Vince who takes protein shakes after lunch in distress telling him that at that rate it would take me 5 hours to do a half marathon. He said no it's ok, sometimes the cold makes you run slower.

This made me feel better, although sometimes I suspect that Vince is schooled in saying the exact perfect thing in a situation even if he doesn't mean it. For example, recently all the boys decided to set up a books and whiskey club. I found out about it and confronted Vince over lunch as to why I was not invited. He tried to allege it was boys only but this only got a rant about the patriarchy. He then said I wouldn't like it, and I shrieked at him that how could he KNOW that when I was DELIBERATELY discluded on account of my gender in order to oppress me and stifle my spirit and the spirit of ALL women. Vince then started to say something else but quickly changed it to 'It's because you are too pretty to be in it'. 'Stop it' I beamed at him, drawing little circles delightedly on the table with my fingers. 'You are...you are pretty'.

Anyway after the run I had a falafel wrap which is vegan and then some of the jellybeans when the Christian wasn't looking. And then for dinner I ate some tuna and peas and pasta and just some herbs, chicken stock a dash of vinegar and that's all. Have stopped keeping nice things in the house so I could not feed my craving for more.