Chewing the Cud

When I was twelve years old, I went on my first big trip overseas with about twenty other kids from my intermediate. We spent roughly three and a half weeks in Tacoma on a school exchange, and then went to Los Angeles for fun and games. It was all very strange and wonderful and will always be an experience I am so glad my parents worked for me to have, but there were a few odd things I noticed about the States while I was there. And one of them was chewing gum.

I've never been a chewer of gum. Which is odd, because one reason I can eat a lot of food in one sitting is because I don't suck sweets or lick ice-creams or whatever. I just chomp my way through them. (Probably one reason why I never really took to humbugs, actually; they're far too hard to do that with. My flatmates in Sheffield couldn't understand why I'd bought a huge jar of them when we went to Scarborough for a daytrip to the seaside, because I was never seen to eat them. Partially it was because they just reminded me of my English nana, but it was also because I simply couldn't eat them without breaking my teeth!) But while I was in the States at the age of twelve, I was constantly offered gum. I rarely took it. But now...there are probably six packets of gum on my desk. At least. Two of them are open -- I have two flavours on the go -- but...it's a bit odd. I can have up to five pieces a day, and I find them great after meals or inbetween to just...have something to do with my mouth, now that I'm not filling it full of crap at every given opportunity. Go figure.

I'm in a surprisingly upbeat mood today, although I keep thinking I haven't lost any weight this week. Tomorrow will tell, I suppose. But speaking of trips, I think I'm showing my privilege by having realised yesterday that I am just not happy unless I have an overseas trip in the pipeline. It's not that I travelled much as a kid -- as I said, my first real overseas trip (not counting the fact I lived in Queensland for about a year when I was an infant) was at the age of twelve, and then I didn't go overseas again until I went to Melbourne for a university trip at twenty-one. But then, after graduating, I started averaging maybe two trips a year? At least. Living in the UK skews it incredibly. But I've been unsure of my plans for next year because of both this diet and my parents' having moved to Australia and leaving the house in the care of me and my brother, so...I decided to take the week of my birthday off. And I figure I might take that and go to Western Australia to see my parents. It's related to the diet, mind you, in that this is early/mid February I'm talking here and surely by then I should be approaching Bikini Babe status. Not that I ever expect to actually be a babe, but...Australian heat and a town where no-one has a fucking clue who I am or where I'm from? Holy shit, that's probably the best time EVER to wear a bikini for the first time in my life.

In the meantime, I did the happy dance in a supermarket today because I found turkey breast. Finally! It's not a common meat in New Zealand outside of Christmas time, so...a change from chicken! I also felt pleased because I was wearing my size sixteen jeans and my ZOMBIE: EAT FLESH t-shirt, which was always a little too tight before but is now definitely loose. It was also appropriate, it being Halloween tomorrow. It tends to cause people to double-take, too, but for once I was happy to have people looking at me. I caught sight of myself a few times in shop windows, and...yeah. I'm changing. It's incredible.

I must stop spending money, mind you. I bought some DKNY Be Delicious perfume, because it's bright and summery and so New York. It's also rather expensive. But...I want to spend money being pretty. This is progress. So...I might allow it. Just a bit longer, anyway. <3