CFD/AFD

No, it's not some trendy new diagnosis of children who obsessively wash their hands while screaming that they have nut allergies, it's my new mantra.

And, as every good Buddhist knows, mantras MUST be abbreviated to TLA's (which in itself is a joke, three letter acronyms? geddit!!)

So, this weekend, past, My delicious friend, Peakie and I embarked on my very first Blonde Ambition Tour.

Peakie is (sometimes, even erstwhile) blonde, as are some of her besties, and they all get together on various girls weekends, in the country and overseas, and each one of these girls weekends/weeks are referred to as a Blonde Ambition Tour.

Very similar to my Namaste Bitches sisters and our Florida Tour last year

(pee ess, The Namaster Bitches 2011 Tour is to the UK to see THE OPENING NIGHT OF THE FOO FIGHTER'S WORLD TOUR.. more on that later!)

And what happens on a Blonde Ambition Tour STAYS on.... well, you know the rest.

Except this time, we decided to be a gang, The Blonde Ambition Gang, which of course, leads me back to the topic of this post.

BAG.

Thus we all had to have gang names.

Mine, I am proud to announce, was Lemon Iced-T (BAG). And rocked the SHIZZ out of the Torquay Caravan Park. We TOTALLY  played Lilly Allen's "Fuck You" really loud. Like on 4. At about 6.30pm.

We were ROCK STARS, man, we kinda slumped around that Caravan site causing fear and havoc in the hearts of all who saw us. Although we replaced the hoodies and bandanas and low slung jeans for one piece bathers with built in spandex support and sarongs, we were FEARSOME, dude. Our slumping gang skillz even had a zed.

We even had someone knock on the caravan door at 10.30 and tell us to "Keep it down" . It was one of the proudest moments of my life.

Now, Girls weekends, I've had a few. But I can honestly say that I have never come home from a weekend having only existed on chicken twistees, blue cheese, havarti and cowboy shots.

Seriously. That is all I consumed for an entire weekend. Maybe a few random CC's in there, and there is a vague memory of a handful of BBQ Shapes. And possibly a mouthful of  2 minute noodles.

Did you know that you can re-use the pre-fab Cowboy shot glasses, and make BETTER ones? Like with Baileys and Scotch?

Believe me, after your 17th, they taste AMAZING!

Tip for young players?

Make sure you get the angle of the weird little curvy plastic divider in said pre-fab shot glasses right, or it just dribbles out of the side of your mouth, and you look drunker than you actually are.

And you waste alcohol, which is a violation of both BAT and NBT rules.

So, this past few days have been deemed CFD/ AFD's

Cheese Free Day and Alcohol Free Day.

Quite seriously, if you put a wodge of  Pule in front of me, I'd just about vom.

So, Sunday night, after the above weekend, I had this:



Tofu and chive Asian dumplings, with wilted choy sum, tomato and cucumber.

I could actually feel the nutrients returning to by blood stream and forcing the chicken twistie badness from my liver.

I'm too old for this. 

Just incases you didn't believe me...

I told you so.

Complete with spigot for lay backs.

liquid lunch?

Is it Full Moon?? Every lunatic on the fringe-rug of life either rang or attended my office yesterday. If I get one more **insert nasal American computer-generated Marge Simpson voice** "CONGRATULATIONS!! YOU HAVE WON AN OPPORTUNITY TO......(at which point I always hang up) call, or some freak from Mumbai trying to sell me a better deal on my mobile phone, I am going to go grab a large bore automatic weapon and find the nearest clock tower.

My boss, Elvis (for what else are you going to call a middle-aged Jewish Surgeon?) and I are run off our feet at the moment. What with associate staff being sick and going overseas for 5 weeks, we're paddling hard against the current.

I am probably the most Type A person I know. If I don't start cleaning my house at the exact same point (by the microwave, on the left) every time and clean my house in a distinct order, then it's not "clean".. so chopping and changing theatre sessions at work, and re-organising patient lists has left me feeling quite frayed.

And on Friday, I forgot my lunch.

Long gone are the days when I could party like a rock-star until the wee smalls and then head off to work, not eat all day, and make it to 5 o'clock unscathed.

By the time I had repeated my "happy place" Mantra for the umpteenth time yesterday, I was feeling dizzy and most unwell.

And I recently discussed my alcohol consumption with a friend and remember distinctly saying "I don't ever recall actually NEEDING a drink"

Well, bugger me backwards with a spoon, but on the drive home last night, I counted down the minutes until I could get home, peel off the work duds and down a chardy or seventeen.

But, as I have mentioned.. I hadn't eaten a thing all day.

And we all know what happens to middle-aged women when they drink on an empty stomach. I just KNEW that within 2 glasses, I'd be caterwauling "Tainted Love" into an empty shampoo bottle and making trashy, tearful phonecalls to friends I have recently neglected. Hell, I might have even got out the wedding video and made Furry watch it... Who knows how low things might have got??



So what is a poor girl to do??

V-8 and vodka, that's what!!! It's got all the nutrition of veggies ("1 glass= 3 serves of veggies", the bottle proudly proclaims!)

A glass of V-8, a splash of Absolut, a splash of Wooster-Sooster, a drop of Tabasco and finish with a sprinkle of "Slap yo' Mama" cajun seasoning! Mix with a random spring onion that Furry had earmarked for garnishing dinner.

2 of these little beauties and everything is alllllll right in the world.

Except you forget to really look when you're taking pics for your blog and end up getting the dodgy lace cafe curtains you loathe with an consuming passion, in the background of your photos.

oooops.