As I am sitting on my sofa, barely able to breathe after the enormous dinner, I am idly toying with the thoughts of ways to start losing this post-baby weight.
Tonight I managed to consume:
- Grilled aubergines with garlic which by themselves are not terribly unhealthy, if not for the salt my mother covered them with. At least 10 slices.
- Five chicken burgers. Before you think whatever you might think of me, they are pretty flat and small.
- Two slices of Tarte au citron my mother attempted to make for the first time in her life and succeeded.
- A cup of decaf coffee to wash down the above.
So...No, I have not got anyone else to blame for the extra pounds but myself. I use breastfeeding as an excuse. Despite the common idea that breastfeeding helps you lose weight; I personally put it on if I have a small baby to feed. I feel constantly hungry, like Shelob, and turn into an animal, with no will power to stop.
But the problem is, besides the Korova Milkbar situation, is that I love food. I love everything about food. The glass of vino, the company, the conversation, the going out or staying in...I love breakfasts and I adore dinners. I love carbs. I love meat. I love BBQ and I love deserts...I guess what I am saying is I am destined to get fat.
The problem with it is not just my health, or my husband leaving me for a slim model one day. It is also that from what I noticed in the UK, most of the posh ladies are slim. It is not the same back home. You can easily get away with being slightly overweight, and still be seen as posh, elegant or successful. In the UK, majority of ladiiiies are slim. I noticed that fat women in this country are usually poor. Or common. Or, very often, a bit of both.
You would think, wouldn’t you, that it should be the other way around. But of course, it is cheaper to eat unhealthily. It is a lot easier to buy cheap ready meals, or a McDonald's rather than a whole sea bass or a fillet steak. It is also probably caused by feeling low about being poor, and having nothing to do with yourself but get fatter. What, however, is more fascinating to me, is that a typical lower class fat woman in the UK is almost always accompanied by a very skinny bloke. How does that work? What happens that makes a poor woman bigger and a poor guy skinnier? I have no answer to this question; however I have nothing to worry about. Fortunately for me, my husband is (really) not that skinny, and I am (really) not that fat. Yet.
Anyway. The reason I am going on about being fat is because I really enjoy eating a lot right now. And eating a lot right now made me think about the next blog post which is coming very soon. I am excited to be hosting a fellow blogger, a very talented and clever girl who is also from Baku but lives in the USA and runs a wonderful azeri food blog. I thought I have not hosted anyone here for ages, and you guys need someone else to occasionally bring some sanity to these pages. For a bit of healthy balance. Feride will visit very soon, and will be like a green salad to go with my burger and chips questions.