Friends are the Bacon Bits in the Salad Bowl of Life - Homer Simpson

So, I went back to the Doc this week to get the results of my blood tests.
Iron. Good.  B levels. Good. Hormones. Good. Thyroid. Good. Guts. Rooted.
It turned up that I have a 95% chance that I have Coeliac Disease!
Basically, it means that this crafty little mo-fo called Gluten that is in a stack of foods, goes into my guts and like a gooey steamroller flattens & inflames my bowel. Nice.
This is referred to as "Villous Atrophy" which sounds suspiciously like a character from a Harry Potter book.

Finally, after all these years of my body & joints aching like crazy, being tired & cranky, my belly being all bloated out while doing mega stinky farts that almost asphyxiate my husband, my inability to lose weight and fertility issues I have a name for what is wrong with me.
I am not a hypochondriac. It isn't just in my mind. It's all because of that son-of-a-bitch GLUTEN.

I am booked in to see the Gastroenterologist (I shall call him Mr Poo Doctor) next Wednesday.  I then have to go into hospital & have a tube put down my throat and they will then cut a few chunks of of my bowel (icky) and test them for Ceoeliac.  At least I don't have to get the old garden hose up the clacker!

"Why don't you just stop eating gluten now you stupid woman?!!" I hear you warble.

Well, the blood test is ONLY 95% accurate & there are some other funky diseases that appear like Coeliac that aren't anything to do with Gluten so to be ONE HUNDRED percent I have to have the tube down the throat.  Imagine if I just said "stuff it" and it turned out to be something more fucked up.
Nup better to be safe than sorry.

I'm actually looking forward to starting a new lifestyle eating plan..
Naturally, I am expecting that 20 kilos will magically disappear from my body within a week of deleting the bastard gluten and I will have super human strength & agility. Sweet.

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In Vicki socialite news....

Last Sunday I was invited to a wonderful vintage clothing sale with a few members of the elite notorious Brisbane Vintage Mafia.  The sale was hosted by the wonderful Janis at her truly wonderful home.
I have bought a number of lovely frocks from Janis over the years and this was no different.
Despite the fact that it was about 60 degrees Celsius the vintage-loving jet set dames still managed to look ravishing as we jostled to try on gorgeous frocks, hats & shoes.  There was much sighing and swooning at all the treasure up for sale.

3 of the frocks I tried on were met with cries from the girls "OH MY GOD YOU HAVE TO BUY THAT!" and " OHHHHHHHHHH" and "OH GOD THE HAT OH GOD THE HAT!".
So, of course, I simply HAD to buy them!

YES!!! Frocks that fit my boobs!

It was such a fun afternoon with this bunch of uber-glamours talking shit about vintage fashion, diarrhea & how much we loathe the heat.
Thank you so much for having us Janis and for selling me your fantastic frocks & hats!
xoxoxoxoxo

The BVM - able to smell Lucite and vintage rayon from 10 kilometres away.

The eyes are the nipples of the face. - "House Bunny"

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am not camera shy.

I'm not vain.... I just think it's fun having my pic taken. 
When I was growing up we had a camera but it was only really ever used on special occasions and even then sparingly because film was expensive back in Oakey in the Seventies.  Then, when you HAD used up the film, you had to drive into Toowoomba & take it into Piggots store where they would send it off & about a month later you would get your photos back.

I LOVE today's digital age where everybody has a camera with them all the time on their smart phone. I LOVE instagram and I seriously do love looking at everybody's pictures of their food, selfies, their cat sleeping and their feet.

So when my friend Donna (Bubba Beanz Photography / Donna Rushton Studios) asked if I would like to be part of a photo shoot I screamed "Hells Yeah Baby!" and fist pumped the air like crazy.
Donna is normally a child/baby photographer & so she was well prepared to work with a playful, immature woman/child like me.
Luckily for her I didn't even chuck any tanties. (even after the 500th time she made me ride my bike up & down the hill)

Donna wanted to capture the theme of  FUN and well roll me in garlic & call me stinky if she didn't come to the right gal for that! We had a freakin' ball!
It was a great excuse for me to finally drag Red Betty bike out of hibernation and fling my legs out like a lark.
Thanks Donna for making me look good and fun without coming off looking TOO deranged. LOL

 

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www.facebook.com/pages/Bubba-Beanz-Photography/101672719884833

 

www.facebook.com/pages/Donna-Rushton-Studios

PHOTO:  Bubba Beanz Photography/Donna Rushton Studios

 

HAIR & MAKEUP:  me

 

FROCK:  Atomic Martini Vintage at Clayfield

Yawl Gonna Make me Lose My Mind. Up in Here. Up in Here.

Well, sorry about my last post.  Sometimes it's like a brain sucking tornado comes down & into my head & grabs all my thoughts & shoots them up into the air & spins them all around like crazy until they are all just jumbled up.

Thankfully the storm is over & the rainbow has come out & the birds are tweeting again (and all that shit).

My thoughts have floated back down & settled into their normal little places.

One of the things that sent me over the edge is that I have started a new eating programme.  

(yes ANOTHER one) 

I QUIT SUGAR. 

 www.iquitsugar.com/8-week-program

Look, you nay-sayers & tskers,  I will continue to try every cotton pickin wonky eating plan in the world until I find what makes me feel good, healthy, energetic and not bloaty, lumpy, cranky and stinky.

I have been feeling SO much like shit that I went to the doctor to get blood tests. 

Yes I deliberately ASKED to have a needle driven into my arm! (I'm still waiting for the results)

CHUCK held my hand

This programme is an eight week long eating plan which basically is all about QUITTING SUGAR (duh).

One of the elements of this is what they call The Sunday Cook Up. 

Any of you who know me, know that I am a social butterfly. I like meeting up with my peeps, talkin' about vintage frocks & bowel movements and bagging out the horror that is today's fashion. However, I also like hangin with my hubby and chillaxin near his big gorilla self.

Add to this, trying to fit in visits with the family who probably think I am either avoiding them or have been kidnapped & sold into slavery.

There is a lot of prep in The Sunday Cook up.  I think TOO MUCH. My brain literally imploded with the (self imposed) stress of having to get it all done. 

So, I've decided (now that my brain has returned to its normal mooshy chilled out self) that The Sunday Cook up can go jam it up its bum.

I mean, I work full time. My weekends should be spent doing good things that I ENJOY.

Like napping, trying to avoid trapdoor spiders when geocaching, swearing at my sewing machine, spending quality time with my husband sitting on the bed with our laps tops watching video compilations of cats attacking children and catching up with family who can remind us that they hardly EVER see us anymore.

I don't want to spend my whole day pureeing up 500 kilos of pumpkin, boiling up 20 chicken breasts & searching all over town for fucking fennel bulbs.

In saying this, so far (I'm up to day three) the eating plan is pretty good. Hubby & I raised our eyebrows at the dubious looking sausage, kale, beetroot & walnut hash BUT it was actually very tasty.My oats, chai, coconut "bircher" muesli does taste a wee bit like coconut Clag glue with some berries mixed in but definitely    edible.I am feeling much less bloaty and I have stopped looking at buying Millers elastic waist pants for work.  My mid arvo hunger pains have also disappeared!  

My wee is VERY stinky & dark though. I am trying to convince myself that it is all the fat in my body is being peed out of me.

Thankfully, this weekend I have bugger all on so I can give my brain a mini vacation. Phew.

Inhale... and OUThale

xoxoxooxoxoxoxo

No time to say Hello, Good-bye I'm late I'm late I'm late.

 

 

My brain is full again.  It once again feels like I am in a small room with 20 talk back radio stations all turned on but playing different stations in my mind.

Work out eating menu for next week- Write shopping list - Don't eat sugar - Do food shopping - Put away shopping - Relax - Wash Clothes - Clean up House - Count calories - Sew - Write Blog  - Eat too much bread - Geocaching - Relax- Visit the in-laws - Watch Movie - Write Blog post - Feel guilty about not visiting inlaws - Read book - Prepare lunches for week - Don't eat fat - Put clothes away - Cook Dinner - Do the washing up - Wash hair - Worry that I've eaten too much bread - Shave legs - Crave Ben & Jerrys - worry about money - Relax - Nap - Do some Exercise - Drink more Coffee - Go to Yoga - Walk Dogs - Weed Garden - Be Grateful - Socialise with friends - Stop drinking so much coffee - Visit my family - Dye hair - Relax - Go to work - Go to the doctor - Drink more water - Check oil & water in car - Walk - Don't eat so much fruit. - Clean & vacuum car - Book into mole scan

RELAX!!!!

When I'm like this I just want to sleep.

There is not enough hours, minutes, seconds in the day.

Not enough TIME to do ALL THE THINGS.

Too much to think about.

Don't eat this.

Do eat this.

Family, Friends, Husband, Chores, Hobbies, Exercise, Eating, Sleeping.

Guilt.

Crankiness

Tiredness

Craving for blessed apathy.

Craving for nothingness.

Craving for stillness in my mind.

I don't know how people with children cope.

 

What must it be like to be a person who doesn't give a shit?