Week Two

Another week down on the 4:3 diet. At this point I’d just like to mention that I had cheesecake for dinner last night. I may also need to confess that I had cheesecake for lunch today. On the surface that seems like some very loose dieting on my part, but in my defense I did spend about 7 hours doing sweat-inducing gardening during which I stabbed myself various times with roses, grevillea and razor-sharp palm fronds so I figure I deserved it. And may I also add, damn that was some mighty fine cheesecake!

I’ve decided not to weigh myself during the dieting experiment. Being the anal person I am, I usually get totally obsessed with the numbers on the scale and I get uberly depressed when things aren’t going my way. I figure that by not weighing myself I can’t disappoint myself so win-win.

The fasting isn’t bothering me so much. The only thing I notice is that I do have a moment of sad when I wake up and remember that today is a fast day so there’s no yummy dinner to look forward to. I am starting to get sick of the simple soups I’ve been having which usually revolve around miso, carrots & onions so I might need to break open a can of lentils and make some curry or something. I’ve been sticking with soup mainly because it is filling and warms me up on the chilly nights.

I fast on the days I go to gym so sometimes I do find myself in the middle of a gym class thinking that I’m running out of fuel, but I ultimately find it easier to fast on those days because (a) I get home later and (b) Exercise stops me feeling hungry.

There’s a guy at work who is also doing the 5:2 and he has his fast days back-to-back on Monday and Tuesday. That to me sounds like some hardcore fasting and I won’t be doing anything like that anytime soon.

On a positive note for the week, I got a pay rise and a nice little bonus! Yay for me. It’s only taken 2 1/2 years but I think I’m now actually earning close to what I wanted to be paid in the first place! Lol. I think I’m also finally making what I used to earn back in Japan when I was translating. It only took 7 years and 5 jobs, but I’m back to where I started. Life is funny, isn’t it?


Week one

Well, that’s week one down and dusted for the 5:2 diet. Well, it was actually 4:3 but hey, who’s counting?

I discovered something on fast day one, which was Monday: my normal work day is pretty fasty even without being on the 5:2. The only difference is whether I have a proper dinner or not. I usually have a small breakfast made up of 45g of cereal and coffee. Then I’ll have yoghurt and some fruit for lunch. Dinner is whatever M cooks up. So when I’m “fasting” I have 2 eggs for brekky, baked beans & rice crackers or yoghurt for lunch and some soup-type thing for dinner. Voila.

The other thing I discovered is that its actually calorie cycling. I had my first run in with calorie cycling when I was doing the calorie-controlled diet thing in 2009 and I plateaued, so I spent a few weeks shuffling around how many calories I had on different days, trying to kick-start the weightloss thing again. It’s essentially the 5:2 just on a  less structured scale.

The only huge, huge mistake I made was waking up on Saturday morning and stuffing my face with crumpets and a big-ass cappuccino and THEN deciding to make it a fast day. That left exactly 60 calories for the rest of the day….Not a good plan. I went to circuit class at lunch time and by 3pm I was ravenous. I kept drinking endless cups of tea – green, black, rooibos, green with brown rice. I went through my whole goddamn tea collection trying to keep myself occupied and my mind off food. Fortunately my circuit class kicked my ass so I also spent a lot of time thinking about how much pain I was am still in. Using the mouse hurts. Typing also hurts. Remind me never to go to a circuit class again.

I’ve got a post bubbling about my collar, I’ve got a fairly important chapter of my story to finish writing and I think I also need to go and lay down and curl up into a ball because I hurt EVERYWHERE. I’m hurting, hungry and cold…hey, whaddya know? It’s good research for my story.  For some strange reason I also can’t stop listening to Diamonds by Rhianna. And I also need to watch True Blood…mmm nom nom….Eric. So many things to do and so little time.


Can’t handle bush

I read an article in the newspaper over the weekend that stated that the new generation of men do not understand ‘what to do with’ a woman’s bush and ‘can’t handle a hairy woman’ because they’ve grown up learning everything about sex from internet porn (where the women are sleeker than a baby’s bottom).

I was thinking about this as I removed my bush once again *very* carefully with a cream that will make you call down the sweet jesus’ protection if you get some on your clit. (Not that you needed to know that, but I thought I’d just share what I did on Saturday afternoon.)

So men are fine to have pubes so long they can choke me, but women with a neatly trimmed nether region are not okay. Hilariously enough, one guy interviewed in the article said that he always wanted to have sex with a woman before he dated her just in case she was hairy. Apparently, hair=no dinner.

And just on that same thought that we have raised a generation on internet porn, does that mean that women ‘can’t handle’ or ‘don’t know what to do with’ a guy with a small cock. Because, as we all know, those internet porn guys are hung like a horse.

It’s an interesting double standard, isn’t it?

pubic hare
Would have been ten times funnier without the erroneous apostrophe

Catch Up

It was a weird week. It started hardcore with 3 back-to-back nights at the gym (Body Combat 56 might be the death of me…) and ended with the season finale of Game of Thrones. Now I’ve got nothing to watch until Breaking Bad starts again in August! Nothing worse than long, cold nights in the Australian winter with absolutely NOTHING to watch. Damn TV producers and their northern hemisphere seasonal bent.

I think I’m still having a GoT hangover from the previous week.  I could so relate to all those reaction to the red wedding videos that were posted everywhere. I remember coming out to M after watching the episode and going, “Oh.My.God.” I didn’t know how to process what I’d just seen. What was even funnier was building it up for him so much and then he was watching it and fifty or so minutes in he chirps up, “I thought this was supposed to be….oh…hang…on.”

Priceless moment.

No, I haven’t read the books and I’m a little on the fence about it too. While I’d love to read them and figure out what the hell is going and who the hell everyone is, I don’t want to spoil my TV viewing experience. I used to be an avid fantasy reader and the Dragonlance Chronicles, Riftwar Series,  Belgariad & Mallorean are some of my favourites that will forever live on my bookshelf. I tend to just read the same books over and over again though because I find it hard to invest myself in a new set of characters and a story. Maybe I’m getting old…eeep!

In totally unrelated dieting news, I’m thinking about jumping on the intermittent fasting diet bandwagon. I always love me a good fad diet and this is one I haven’t tried, so I figure, why the hell not? I’m in two minds whether to do the popular 5:2 or the less popular every-other-day version. Maybe I’ll start with the less onerous 5:2 (five days normal eating, two days fasting) and work from there. Anyone have any thoughts or experiences they want to share?

I love fad diets because they give me rules. Generally speaking, I love me some rules because they help me work out how I’m supposed to act. It’s probably a lack-of-confidence thing in that I’m not comfortable ‘doing my own thing’. What I don’t quite understand though, is that while I love rules, I have to feel comfortable with/understand those rules before I’ll feel happy about following them. How does that work?

Oh and on the Body Combat thing, “Matrix” kicks make me feel like a total retard. Just sayin’, Les Mills.

Work has been…bearable. It’s the time of year for bonuses and pay rises, so I’m crossing everything that can be crossed in the hopes that some money will be heading my way. I saw an ad for a Japanese-speaking EA last week and was seriously thinking about applying for it. I already get made into the GM and MD’s bitch on a regular basis, so I figure actually having EA in my title might be a little more meaningful. Although I don’t know whether it’s better to be a Sales & Marketing ‘something’ as opposed to an EA for future career prospects. No impending trips to Japan are on the horizon and I’m just hunkering down to get through the winter at this stage.

Finally, I had a weird moment of actually feeling ‘okay’ about having my nipples pierced. It’s probably because I haven’t had a goal or a ‘big event’ this year so I’m hankering for a ‘challenge’. Nipple piercing has been threatened for a very long time and I’ve totally resisted the idea up until this point. I mean, not that my thoughts about it would actually affect whether or not M did it, but for me it’s ‘easier’ if I’ve internally come to a happy place about my impending doom. I casually mentioned my acceptance of the piercing and was met with a, ‘Pfffftt!’ which I guess is fair enough because my acceptance means fuck all, but still I was a bit miffed – which doesn’t seem appropriately slavey enough at all, does it?

My feelings of acceptance were fleeting and somewhere between Wednesday and Friday, they disappeared completely. I told M that I was ‘over’ nipple piercing now and he laughed and said that once again he’d been right. I hate it when he’s right.

P.S We watched the director’s cut of Pulp Fiction again for the millionth time. That is still a damn fine movie.

red wedding

How to Make Out in Japanese

One of the first things I did when I got to Japan was fall in love. It didn’t take me long, three or four months in I was lusting desperately after the English-speaking, US-schooled Japanese guy who worked at the same hotel I did. There was also another geeky guy I worked with who was very uncool and spoke no English, but I was too busy lusting after the other guy to pay him much attention. Anyway, I later found out that the hot guy already had a girlfriend and I ended up having my cherry popped in a love hotel and marrying the geeky guy, but that’s another story.

Growing up I had a rather interesting affliction of needing to constantly be in love with someone. I don’t know if it’s an adolescent girl thing or what, but the guys in my class at school used to rotate through my ‘List of boys I want to go steady with’ with wild abandon and I spent most of my free time deciding who was going to be my number one for that particular week.

Anyway, I was eighteen and still pretty immature when I went to Japan. While I didn’t write down my list, I still had one going in my head and I needed someone to be lusting after. After the hot guy quit, the geeky guy I was working with moved up into number one position. I don’t really know why, maybe I’d spent some more time with him and got to know him, maybe my Japanese had improved so that we could actually carry on a conversation or maybe there was no-one else who could be at the top of my list, but whatever the reason, I put my plan to go steady with the guy into full gear and I went into attack mode.

Except I had no idea what sort of things I should be saying to the guy or how I should be acting. He liked Japanese girls who spoke Japanese, so that was my starting point. Cue the need for some reference material in the age before the internet, so that was how the book, “Making Out in Japanese” and a couple of months later, “More Making Out in Japanese” became my Rosetta stones.


Japanese is a very curious language. Although most languages have some sort of delineation between men-folk speak and women-folk speak, Japanese is more defined than most. There is also quite a big difference between casual language that you use with your significant other and/or friends and neutral language that you use with everyone else around you (there are also several other levels of honorific language and humble language that you use depending on who you’re talking to and what you’re talking about, but let’s not muddy the waters too much.) When you start learning Japanese you learn the neutral form of the language, which is great for asking for a kilo of apples or how to get to the train station, but when you’re asking someone if they like to be t-bagged, it ain’t going to help.


I liked these books because they had little male and female symbols to show you what was appropriate for a person of your gender to say. I already sounded stupid enough as a foreigner trying to speak Japanese, I didn’t want to sound like a boy as well.

Doing the sex talk in my native language is hard, but I’m in two minds about whether it’s easier to talk dirty in another language. In some ways it’s easier, once you figure what to say, of course, because they tend to just be ‘words’ without the social stigma and connotations that you get with words you are more familiar with. It’s hard to explain, but saying cunt will make me blush to the tips of my toenails, but saying manko is a bit easier. It’s a phenomenon that I’m sure Chomsky or someone else of the linguistic bent has already explored in great detail, but I always find it fascinating.



The only problem with the books was that they were written by a male foreigner and a female Japanese (which, by the way, tends to be the norm for Japanese/foreign couples) so there was plenty of stuff in there that wasn’t applicable to my situation. It wasn’t useful in preparing me for how a Japanese guy would act or react in a relationship and my Japanese significant other seemed to be drawing on all his knowledge of how foreign women “wanted” to be treated from hollywood movies. There were some pretty bizarre moments involving him carrying my handbag and telling me how big my eyes were while I was spending all my time trying to be cute and wearing cardigans.

Anyway, I found these books when I was cleaning up my room the other day so I thought I’d share. I should get all danshari and throw them away, but I think I’ll hold onto them for another 18 years.