By Kirstie Alley. I'm reading this at the moment. I've got right back into reading and it's only taken, ooh, 7 months or so, after the whole undergraduate degree debacle. It's not really a diet book as such, but it is quite helpful as it's making me realise I'm not alone. Just finished Dear Fatty by Dawn French. Yet another book with a misleading weight related title. It was not as laugh out loud funny as I expected, in fact, it was pretty fucking weird in places. I think moany was right to give up on it at the first page. Alan Carr's book, on the other hand, is brilliant. So lots of books recently. I have £60 of free money to spend in either HMV or Waterstones at the weekend, and I'm afraid it just might have to be in Waterstones. Current wish list includes Notes From A Small Island and Fahrenheit 451.
Not much else on really. Still plodding along at work, day 2 of diet has gone splendiferously. I may go to the gym tomorrow in my non-designer tracksuit bottoms as my Adidas ones have gone missing. I am not a chav, I just can't shake some of the things I learned about fashion when I was a teenager.
Anything that isn't Nike, Reebok, Adidas, Ellesse, Kappa, Fila or Umbro is wrong.
Did we even have Lonsdale stuff when we were at school? There seems to be an alarming amount of it about now. And a lot of it ended up in my wardrobe when I was uber fat.
In other news, I have decided I really should go down to the 'pool and poke Yvette Fielding in the eye.
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