I’d like to begin today's blog entry by offering my sincerest apologies to the commuters on the 10:11 East Mids Train service to Bedford. Calling at Wellingborough, Kettering, Steph’s Booty and Bedford. And to satisfy any curiosity you may have, this is what I look like from the front. ——>

Had you had the opportunity to actually identify my face you would have witnessed the horror that I attempted to disguise as nonchalance, but my blushes would have given the game away. It was indecent, I know, and I am so sorry. However the exposure of my arse is an extremely infrequent occurrence and I can assure you all that it will *not be happening again. 

If it might be of any consolation to you, I’d like you to know that, my bottom, contrary to the eyeful you got this morning, was once one of my worthiest assets.

Indeed twas in fact the bearer of one of the most prestigious awards I’ve ever won. You see, ladies and gents, what you saw this morning, that sort of resembled a Belgium bun, was actually once awarded the title of Brannigans Bar’s ‘Rear of the Year!’ (in 2002 I think?! Either way it was a million moons ago. Ooops, pardon the pun!)

Yup! So really, if you think about it, you’re kinda lucky you got a quick flash for free. ;-)

Of course it isn’t often that my derriere gets to see the light of day. Not since it tried to battle gravity and sort of lost a bit. But today it seemed that my trusty butt fancied a cheeky glimpse of the outside world, so it took it’s chances, waited for a bit of wind, (not THAT kind of wind!) and escaped out of my flappy shorts.

Unfortunately, at that precise moment in time I had found myself trying to negotiate my way out of a mud puddle, (gimme a pair of heels and I can strut across the globe any-day, but put me in flats and I’m pretty much useless.)

My trainers squelching, my arms stretched out for balance and my face raspberry-red and sweaty. And that’s when the wind blew. And that’s when the train passed. And that’s when I decided to buy some nicer pants. (Oh and ensure I always, always include my bottom when slapping on the fake tan from now on.)

I’m not sure about weight, but I always manage to lose my dignity whenever I exercise.

Alas I have little choice at the moment. Not since it became very apparent that I have been carting evidence of some of my passions on my hips. I’m not kidding. It’s all there. All that sugar from when I replaced my nicotine habit with chocolate instead, all the yummy bread from my bread-making escapades, the extra wobbly bits from spending too long sat writing my book, the baby weight from my delicious babies (I didn’t eat them, you understand! (Though babies were about the only thing I didn’t eat whilst carrying my children.)) And now, much like Shakira’s, my hips are most definitely not lying.

And so, modesty intact or not, I’m on a mission to find that inner goddess (I didn’t eat her either, in case you were wondering,) and bring my sexy back. Yeah. (Did I mention, by the way, that Justin Timberlake is actually my other husband?! Yep. It’s true. Just thought that you should know.)

Of course the exposure of my arse isn’t the only tale I have to share with you on the topic of my new fitness regime, I have lots and lots to tell. But you’re gonna have to wait, because my bottom and I have already spent far too long sitting at the laptop for one night. ;-)

Steph x

* Unless under the influence of lots of alcohol / being paid ridiculous amounts of money / becomming so skinny that my trousers accidentally fall down lots.  
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30th August 2008

 “ . . . Now the drugs don’t work, they just make you worse. Or so I’ve been told.

 But that’s okay, cos right now I don’t need drugs anyway. I’m high on life.

 God that sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? But it’s how I feel right now, right now at this very second. And guess what? Instead of over-analysing this, like I do with most suspicious emotions, (I can’t help it, I’m female, it’s what we ‘do’) I have decided to embrace my new found high and run with it, (not literally though, I’ve already done enough exercise this week, thank you very much!)

 Speaking of drugs though, (and sorry if I get that crappy Verve song stuck in your head,) – I went through a stage not so long ago of really believing that I needed some kind of substance to keep me going.

I’m not necessarily talking about the illegal kind, (especially if any policemen happen to be reading this,) – I just felt like I needed a new addiction.

Cigarettes are out of the question, since I quit last July, (not that I’m counting the months or anything) – Jay won’t let me even look at them. Which is such a shame since I’ve sort of forgotten why I quit in the first place now.

The Nut Squad, (whom I haven’t seen in a least a week, (check me out!)) have prescribed me some kind of anti-depressant which makes me feel quite pissed, which is sort of nice, but can be a bit of a pain in the arse when it comes to putting my make-up on or something, (Co-Coa the clown needs to learn my techniques,) – They’ve also given me beautiful, beautiful drugs to take for when I need to sleep and can’t. I think they’re about the closest thing to heroin I’ll ever get my hands on, (heroin’s quite expensive isn’t it?!) I shouldn’t joke about that, heroin isn’t funny at all. It is just a waste of tea spoons, (or so I’ve heard.)

I’d love to get my mitts on magic substances of the green variety, or, ‘Wacky Backy,’ as my Mum still calls it, but unfortunately there’s not much call for it here in, ‘no mans land’, so all the drug dealers, (much the same as the pizza delivery drivers,) don’t seem to cover our area.

I was looking out for an addiction that doesn’t require a small mortgage to fund, (thus eliminating cocaine from the equation,) and doesn’t make you feel sick if you accidentally have too much, (so there goes booze too, which is good since the Nut Squad have forbidden me to drink just in case I end up sitting outside the local church with a can of Tens, slurring my words, peeing on myself and scaring the choir boys.)

In the end I settled for a very dangerous substance. Dangerous as it can be found in almost every household and therefore there’s no getting away from it. It is so amazingly addictive that they even sell it in our local shop, (which is a miracle, trust me) – no, it’s not aerosol sniffing, (I never did really understand all that sock and deodorant stuff anyway,) it is Chocolate.

One moment on your lips and a lifetime on your hips, yet I still crave it almost every evening. And now I can’t help but think how silly I am for wanting a new addiction in the first place.

Quickly I need a new fix? I’ll welcome all reasonable suggestions. Just don’t suggest I turn to exercise as we all know that that’s a load of bollocks. If exercise and endorphins and all that jazz were really as good as they’re cracked up to be, how come half of the world’s population is still obese??! Huh??! . Exactly. . .”

Seventeen months on and not only am I still a non-smoker but I am also a non-eater now too. (Of course I am still eating a bit, just not a lot.) And I’m kinda wondering what non-smoking, non-junkie, non-eating people do for kicks these days?!

Since I adopted my new saintly lifestyle I’ve found myself surrounded by rules and regulations. My new regime does not include consumption of chocolate, for example, which is a serious travesty. I am not allowed to smoke. Merely to breathe in the scent of somebody else’s cigarette smoke, (which may sound revolting to all you born and bred non-smokers, but is actually heavenly to former fag-heads like me.)  I am allowed to drink vodka, with juice, (cos at least that kinda counts as one of my five-a-day,) but Budweiser, (my beloved beer of choice) is totally outta the question.



So many rules. Too many for a gal with a rebellious approach to life, but I’m trying my very hardest to be a good-girl. After all it was my idea, (well, it was sort of me, the stroppy stubborn me that occasionally surfaces to put her two cents in from time to time.) And I can’t let myself down. (because stroppy stubborn Steph can be a force to reckon with you know.) 



I’ve got loads to tell you about regarding my mission to be a health saintly Steph, but for now I’m gonna indulge in something highly addictive which thankfully I know is good for me. Something I’ve been deprived of for way too long. Something that I know will leave me totally satisfied yet craving more at the same time. A little trip down Wisteria Lane and a large dose of the new series of Desperate Housewives. Yeah baby! :-)



Love to all



Steph x

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