Eating 5 meals a day before 7 is becoming a bit of a test. Especially when one of those 5 meals has to contain celery. According to Marie Claire’s article on easy ways to lose weight, this will help ease water retention. Like a small child, I have to trick myself into eating celery due it possibly being the vilest naturally produced substance other than a big steaming turd. (The 2 come very close along with their little pal Brussel sprouts). I do this by coating the celery in either cream cheese or some sort of dip. And like a small child, on Wednesday I manage to flick said cheese into my eyebrow mid morning at work, and not notice until I went to the loo at lunch.
Due to having the food intolerance test straight after work, Husband had made me a sandwich for my tea so I could have my 5th meal before 7pm. I ate it at around 6, went for my test (See last post) then met my friend Tann at the Odeon to catch the “Orange Wednesday” showing of The Hangover.
The only problem was the majority of Manchester seemed to have the same idea, it was due to start in 5 minutes and the queue was snaking back towards the entrance.
We decided to go to another cinema across town, but got sidetracked on the way by a Slug and Lettuce pub. The next available showing was 9:45, and my stomach was beginning to grumble. All I had for the film was a Ribena, so felt that the best tway to appease my now rumbling stomach was to have a massive glass of Rose wine.
By 9:40 we were in the cinema, stood before the food counter. Ben and Jerry’s ice cream tubs were stacked in the freezers on the back wall; each one seemed to be calling to me “you know you want me, what is this 7pm nonsense? You’re not a bloody Mogwai!” My inner monologue started having a row about the pros and cons of failing on the first day, in comparison to inhaling an ice cold tub of the wondrous joy that is Ben and Jerry’s Ice cream. Marie Claire won and Tann looked at me like I had finally lost the plot.
He bought himself a tub along with a radioactive looking blue slushy. He offered me a sip, but each time he gestured the slushy towards me I instinctively repelled backwards. I’ve got a real issue with blue food, ever since I was a young child and ate a bright blue ice cream called a “Goggle eyes”. About 2 hours after eating said ice cream, I produced the most magnificent bright blue poo, it had my mother spitting feathers wondering whether or not to take me to casualty. What do you do when your child’s bowls have morphed into a miniature nuclear reactor? Since that incident, any blue food consumption has been limited entirely to blue WKD at parties when the Vodka has run out.
Tann thought it was hilarious to waft his ice cream at me once seated in the cinema, but luckily he stopped. Smelling the danger in the air, he anticipated the situation before I instinctively jumped up and wrapped his skate board around his face.
Visions of me snatching the tub of ice cream and legging it out of the cinema, foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog were abruptly interrupted buy a tall plum guy and his petit attractive oriental lady friend. They wanted us to move so they could sit in the seats next to us.
As they sat, the film started.
The film was really amusing, much better than I expected (Thanks Marie Claire!) but the plump guy next to me was by far the funniest thing I’d seen in a cinema in years.
As each joke materialised on screen, he would turn to his pretty lady friend and exclaim in a thick, European accent (I think German or Austrian as he sounded like Bruno)
“Ahh no vay! Der ist a chicken in da hotel room… HAHA das ist FUNNY no?!”
“No VAY, OH MY GOD, Der ist a Tiger inst de Bathroom – Das just vouldn’t happen… HAHA das IST funny!”
This continued throughout the whole film, making me laugh so much I had to run out mid way through and go for a pee.
I would recommend going to see the film, even without the bizarre European commentary, but it definitely added to the experience for me. Maybe I have enough time to write to the producers and suggest they track him down for the DVD commentary?
Once the film was over, Tann and I made our way down the escalators towards the foyer. As I rummaged in my bag for the keys and pulled them out, they caught on a teaspoon I had taken to work to eat me second meal of the day, which was fruit and yoghurt.
In a cinematic, slow motion style - fitting for the surroundings, I wrenched the keys from my bag projecting the teaspoon in to the air. It span towards the heads of a young teenage couple a few steps down from us. I cringed in horror as it just missed and clattered at their feet.
The young lad bent down slowly and picked it up, turning to me with a look of confusion and mild accusation.
“Erm sorry, that was er a bit random”
Was all I could mumble as he handed it back to me.
The couple turned away snickering and I felt like a complete loser, I could feel the red in my cheeks flushing. I bet Gisele never lobbed a teaspoon at strangers in a Cinema! With that, it was definitely a signal to take Tann home, massage each foot for 20 seconds as per the July list (much to husbands despair as he was in bed and I switched on the lamp to do it) and call it a night .