Not a Recipe Exchange blog...

Why the macaroons I hear you ask? Well it is just a reminder of how I put on the extra 70 kgs in the first place. I didn't often cook macaroons (indeed can't ever remember having cooked them) but when I was/am stressed and feeling out of control I crave sweet calorie laden cakes and desserts. Well that's today. It is a cold wintry day reminiscent of my childhood. My mother would always spend Saturday baking the weekly cakes, cookies, slices and desserts. The kitchen always had a sweet aroma and trays of goodies cooling. My Dad didn't think there ocould be a night-time meal without a dessert, and there was always weekend afternoon teas, mid-morning snacks and even suppers during card and board games. It was a fun way to live but not good for a person with a tendency to stack on the kilos if not doing rigorous excercise. Needless to say my whole family was sporty and I had my moments but when I stopped acting (and dancing classes) I began to pack on the weight.

I can say that I am pleased half of the excess is now gone but my emotions are playing havoc with my will-power, despite hypnotherapy! It is holding in as far as fast food and fried food, both really repulse me but it just cannot defeat sugar and chocolate. It is that whole need to reward oneself at times of stress... a reward for surviving it? No sense at all but hey we are talking the sub-conscious here.

Also my alcohol consumtion is vastly reduced (due to it also being calorific and EXPENSIVE... at least anything I like drinking).... so the cakes seem really obtainable instead. GRRR. will need even stronger mind-control and respect for my new body.

Can someone, probably a woman tell me how to respect my new body when attempting to deny a broken heart? It doesn't get easier with age, I can assure you no matter how many times you rationalise and tell yourself that you won't succumb. My dear old battered ego needed a good dose of flattery and I fell for it all.

Am trying to get out and about but when feeling emotionally isolated one's eyes are always drawn towards the apparently happy couples everywhere... well not everywhere just where the middle-classes come out to play. I have been seated amongst roughly 3 - 4,000 people in theatre audiences and galleries lately and what is disturbing is my shallowness. I am judging everybody on their appearance... clothes, what they drink, how they speak and treat one another... particularly the blokes. It is scary that only 3... yep, 3 blokes have passed my supercritical gaze... Is it any wonder I am alone and eating cakes on a Saturday evening?

Well as you can see my dear friends I have loads more work to do before I can claim any semblance of emotional wellness or mood stability... but I am working on it.

Fun Friday...

Last night's book launch was fun. I felt I owed it to my dear colleague to attend his launch rather than the Alumni Chancellors lecture. Luckily this proved to be the correct decision, as the lecture was recorded and will appear podcast somewhere in the future.

I am sure that the panelists also use the same speeches at many events, and they will be readily available somewhere, perhaps at the Wheeler Centre sessions?

The book launch was good in that I met some new and interesting people, especially those from the outside world. Hello Ann! I admire people with the confidence to work in the private sector assured that their skills are marketable to demanding employers. I have never felt I had marketable skills for the world outside education or the public service sector. On so many occasions my lower middle-class background colours my sense of place in this world, no matter how many qualifications I accumulate.

It is as if I believe that my fate is to never be economically secure as I have rebelled against my 'station in life' so must be penalised.

How irrational is that?

After having left the launch I travelled back to my new, cheaper hotel. This time my pockets were empty and I had only enough for the train fare home. No room service for me, no lesiurely breakky or trips to the sales again. The only good thing was that I had some white wine left from the bottle my friend brought to my previous hotel room. I could pretend my life is comfortable and filled with wine, perfume, concerts, theatre, restaurants and companions...

Watch what you wish for!

Companionship.

Just when the night was ending and a lonely hotel bed is calling, one of my new friends arrives to share a nightcap. Luckily common sense comes into play as she is tired and we have drunk the whole bottle, plus the remainder of first bottle and some sparkling at the book launch. There is no way she should drive... so would you believe I share my hotel bed with a female friend, which I haven't done for over twenty-five years.

No lonely hotel room tonight, just two older mates being sensible after sharing honest and reafirming conversation, genial friendship and partying a bit, if a book launch counts as partying?

I would say in the age demographic 50s it does!

After such a connected evening, I cannot face Friday alone.

Again a female friend comes to my aid. I 'train it' to her home and we actually spend hours working and brainstorming our PhD exegeses.

It was such a successful afternoon that we celebrate with the almost mandatory bottle of wine.

And yes dear 'new' friend (male) you owe both of us those promised bottles of Sauv Blanc watching the sunset over the water from her patio!

This being sensible is becoming a habit.

I have to phone home and get picked up by car. Somehow I have managed the entire week without succumbing to the black dog that was threatening earlier, and I have been able to do some straight thinking for my PhD. Is this that mich yearned for work-life balance?

Yoga, excercise, sanity, wining, dining, laughter, friendship, intellectual stimulation, job prospects, and writing!

What more could one ask for?

Oh yeah, don't go back there today.

Must not watch too many Hollywood movies.

Pity I am writing this too late after having a quiet n ight in watching my beloved Meryl Streep in It's complicated.

...If only!