“Whatever it is that compels me to write a diary is the same thing that inspires me to write and create characters and draw and sing and dance: the inability to express myself verbally or orally. (May 24, 2003)”

FATGIRLslim | Tracy's Mad Fat Diaries

Warning: THIS IS A SERIOUSLY IMAGE-HEAVY POST. But pretty interesting, too.

I don’t know how many of you have been watching My Mad Fat Diary. It should probably be ALL OF YOU, but probably won’t be. It’ll probably be closer to none of you, which is because a lot of y’all are in America. For details, check out the Wikipedia page, because otherwise I’ll spend about 2,000 words babbling about it. Suffice it to say that I found myself relating to the main character, Rae (Rachel), pretty easily… except for the whole bit where boys found her attractive. That never happened to me.

See, I’ve kept a diary ever since I was a kid. Like, since I was maybe five or six. I should have diaries dating back more than 20 years, but the diaries I kept when I was that young got torn up and/or burned when I was scared that my Mum and Dad or sisters would find them. They were the cutesy kind, with the lock on them, and the pretty paper inside. Not such pretty things inside, though, as I’m sure you know by now.

FATGIRLslim | Tracy's Mad Fat Diaries
Instead, my diaries start in 1998, which is where I was 15 and at the end of third year in high school. It’s pretty weird, when I look back through it, because I started this little thing that I’ve kept up: time, music, place and date in the top, and then “dear [journal],” although “dear journal” was only for the one written in the ringbound notebook; the others have all been “dear diary,” except for the entries which have been written specifically aimed at people.

Yes, I sometimes write entries in my diary, aimed specifically at people. No, you don’t want to read them if they’re aimed at you.

This is part two, covering diaries five to six. Part one, covering diaries one to four, is here.

Mad Fat Diary #5: July 19, 2007 to January 1, 2012

(Again: if you’re reading in RSS or a reader or anything similar you’ll probably have to come to the the entry to see the gallery below, which includes all the photos from Mad Fat Diary #5.)

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Unlike the other diaries, I don’t need to look far to find the first mention of hating myself; maybe because it’s about year or so after my girlfriend/fiancée, Danii, and I broke up.

July 19, 2007

Dear Diary,

It’s silly, though. The only thing that’s really bothering me right now is the fact that I’m still single. Not that I’m used to being in a relationship; I’ve had, what? 4 girlfriends and 2 boyfriends in my lifetime, and the longest of those was nearly 2 years, entirely unconsummated? Yeah, I’m the relationship Queen, baybee! Haha.

But no, seriously.

I’m just annoyed because I’m totally aware that I probably wouldn’t have this problem if I wasn’t fat. People don’t want GFs (girlfriends) as fat as me (although I’m getting skinner!) and GOD, all I want is a significant that Cola can like.

(Cola’s my best friend in the entire frelling world. I’ve known her since 2001, and so far, she’s only ever liked two of the people I’ve dated – The Girl, who she moderately liked, and my current boyfriend, Reese, who she actually likes.)

August 8, 2007

Dear Diary,

I lost 5.5lbs this week. Mum’s right.

I am totally doing this.

I am beautiful.

I am bold.

I am healthy.


Resolutions for 2008 included, “lose 98lbs (7st) – as always, ‘lose weight’ is among my resolutions, but this year past has proven that I can do it. I’ve already done it!”, “Stay sober for at least 364 days of the year, because I know that denying myself entirely is the worst idea in the world. Been there, done that, gone off the rails,” and “try to love yourself more.”

Apparently 2008 was a leap year, because I mention taking 366 pictures (one a day), which gives me two days of the year to get drunk. That’s pretty kind of myself, haha!

I’d also joined Curves in 2007, and complained about my ’68″ ass’ making me seem shorter than I actually am, but on January 1, 2008, I get to a point where I weigh less than 27st for the first time since 2004. But that was at night, and I think, by the next morning, the weight wasn’t the same.

January 12, 2008

Dear Diary,

I am admitting this to you, because admitting it is half the battle, right?

The past several times I’ve been in Tesco, unaccompanied, I’ve bought a 6- or 8-pack of Viennese Whirls and a 6- or 8-pack of Cherry Bakewells. And it needs to stop RIGHT NOW.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, I also admit to eating, “an 8-pack of Viennese Whirls, a 6-pack of Cherry Bakewells, a half of the big pack of Doritos, and one of those [Eeyore] cakes that’re meant for 4 or 6 kids,” while my parents were in Paris, washed down with a 2-litre Coke Zero. How/why I didn’t vomit, I will never know.

Not at all related to weight-loss/self-hatred, but I’d forgotten that I lost my phone when I was in Downtown Disney. When I got back to Ireland, I said:

“So my phone is pretty much officially lost; it’s not even going to voicemail anymore; it’s now going direct to “this call cannot be connected”. Which is kind of shit; that phone was only 6 months old (and 2 days away from retirement!).

There’s tonnes of stuff like that littered through my diaries. You can tell when I started getting into weirder fandoms, when I start using “WTF” and “OMG” and when I used The Dark Tower-isms even when I’d never read the books, and when I actually used the word “frell”, even although I’d only ever seen Farscape in passing. (But I’m almost finished the entire four series now on Netflix.)

This diary’s different, though. I don’t know why I decided to do it with this diary, but I kind of created a scrapbook with it. I’ve got a Chili’s beer mat “margarita bar” and all of my World of Disney” squashed pennies stuck on one page with writing around them, and my tickets to Tampa via NYC-Kennedy on the opposite page.

A ticket to the shitty nightclub we went to on my 25th birthday. The ticket for Eddie Izzard’s Stripped tour at the Tampa Theatre. Train tickets from a trip back home to Scotland, while I was living in Ireland.

Resolutions for 2010 were, apparently, “Fuck resolutions right up the arse, and just be a healthier, happier, better person.

But then, of course, I turned 27, and made the following resolutions:

  1. Lose weight
  2. Exercise consistently
  3. Leave the house more often
  4. Stay at Weight Watchers
  5. Drink more water!

This is after I’ve joined the gym, but it’s Weight Watchers in Scotland, which isn’t quite as successful as Weight Watchers in Ireland, for some reason. This specific entry, which isn’t actually on my birthday, but a few days after, ends with:

I’ve had so many years where I’ve told myself I’m going to lose weight and change my life.

This is just going to be the year that I actually do it.

Over the page from that, I’ve got an autograph from Michelle McManus, from when my Dad worked in The Hilton in Glasgow. It was a really lovely thing for him to do, because Michelle’s a big girl, too, but confident and beautiful and – well. Yes. She’s rather faboo, really.

July 2, 2011

The people from Supersize vs. Superskinny: Families called Lorna and I.

I’m really hoping we get accepted; it would be so good for both of us. We really need it right now.

It’s around this time, though, that I’ve started updating after a huge empty time, and of course, what happened in this empty time? My sisters got married, and before my big sister got married the year before, I started dating my boyfriend.

Lots and lots and lots of entries about my boyfriend, oops. At least I’m not bitching about how much of a cock he is. He’s the decent one.

August 12, 2011

Dear Diary,

So, Lorna and I got called back for The Biggest Loser! :) We were so worried that we weren’t going to be able to make it to the final stages because they take place in London, and I was looking at flight prices and train prices, and they were all too expensive. We couldn’t both afford to fly, or take the train.

[...]The bus trip down was horrendous. We got picked up at Hamilton, but because the bus stopped at Glasgow first, by the time we got on the bus, there were only empty seats right at the front… and the driver had his bags on the seat behind him, so Lorna and I were the only people forced to share a seat (SERIOUSLY. EVERYONE ELSE HAD A SEAT TO THEMSELVES!). Right at the front. Where there’s the barrier at the stairs. Where you can’t stretch your legs out at all.

The air conditioning was broken, and the heat passed 30° at one point. I watched it the thermostat. I thought I was going to vomit and/or pass out at one point. When we got to the rest stop, I got out and stuck my fingers down my throat, but I didn’t have anything throw up. It helped me feel better anyway.

[...]I managed to get us through the Tube easily, which is surprising, considering the last time I was there was in 2004, and I needed about a dozen Original London-Born Sherpas™ to guide me through! NOT THIS TIME, THOUGH.

I did have to ask for help once, to make sure we were getting on the correct train. Other than that, I’m amazed at how much I remember from one visit to London almost ten years ago.

The medical tests/audition went well, I think. There was this one thing: you had to step up and down onto this big metal step for three minutes, and I’d forgotten to bring my inhaler, so I only managed to make it to two and a half minutes before I felt like I was going to faint. I can only hope it doesn’t count against me.

I’ve got my fingers so tightly crossed right now. We’ll find out if we’ve got through around Aug 23.

If we get through, everything kicks off on Sept 11.

One month, and my life will either change or stay the same. But we are going to get on, Lorna and I, and we are going to change our lives.

The people we auditioned with are really nice! I forget most of their names, except for Tamara, who was a young black London girl. She reminded me quite a bit of myself. There was only one person larger than me – a guy whose name I can’t remember – who I just kept on calling “Mr. Greedy” in my head, because he was wearing a Mr. Greedy t-shirt, and he said he weighed 26st. (When they weighed me in, I weighed 160.2kg, or 353lbs.)

But yeah! I think we all got along pretty well, especially the Welsh girl and her Dad, they seemed really nice. I’d love to see some of them in the house, but there were two guys who were really annoying. We were asked (not all of us) who would we eliminate? and one of the annoying guys said they’d eliminate me, because of “deep-fried pizzas”, which Lorna and I had mentioned when we’d been talking about local foods we liked that you couldn’t get anywhere else.

I mean. Seriously?!

The series producer, Louise, told him it wasn’t a valid elimination reason, so HAHA FUCK YOU, MAN.

I remember sitting in the bus station, waiting for our bus home. I made sure Lorna and I were the FIRST PEOPLE ON THE BUS, and we sat on separate seats across the aisle from each other, put our bags beside us, and fell the hell asleep. Nobody bothered us. I think, being as we were both overweight, nobody would have anyway. But the bags were an extra precaution.

(Obviously, Lorna and I didn’t get on The Biggest Loser – it was this series, and we actually met the winner, Kevin, (and Amy Mac) at our originally audition in Glasgow, whereupon I said to him, “Well, you’re a shoo-in to get on the show. They’re not going to turn down a guy of your size.”

He didn’t take it as a criticism. He gave me that sort of corner-of-the-mouth cocky-confident smile that people do, “Yeah, I know.”

The Welsh people I mentioned that I liked, in London, are Geoff and Sarah. I felt really sorry for Geoff, because he got through and then pulled out before getting into the house, for health reasons. :(

A couple of entries after The Biggest Loser thing, there’s an entry where I’m getting nostalgic about high school after, shock horror, watching High School Musical. Because I was a music geek in high school: choir, string group, orchestra, drama. Individual viola tuition. Days where I only had to go to 1 class because of winter/spring/summer concert rehearsals.

October 12, 2011

[...] I’m 28 years old, and I feel like I sleepwalked through high school. I feel like I was never really there. I never really lived those years, because I…

Because I was fat.

It’s one thing I’m pretty fucking annoyed about: I feel like I’ve never really lived or done anything, because I’ve been too busy being fat.

I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I lose weight. It’s not like I can rewind time to when I was 12, but be a healthy weight the whole time instead. I’m going to live with all these stupid regrets for the rest of my life, and that pisses me off.

It’s not even the things I listed on The Biggest Loser form (being able to run without hurt, being able to take a bath, etc); it’s things like: have a boyfriend – or girlfriend! – as a teenager. Have a first kiss worth remembering! Have someone ask me to dance at the school disco. Don’t spend playtimes hiding from bullies in the library.

How’d you get stuff like that back?

How do you do away with the fact that you’re 28 (now 31) years old, but you feel like you’re still 12 inside, because that’s basically when you stopped actually being able to do anything the people your age did?

A few pages after that, there’s an autograph from Ruth Lorenzo, my biggest X Factor Girl Crush EVER. Also from when my Dad worked in the Hilton. It’s got a big smiley face next to it. It’s stuck above an entry where I’m bitching about everyone in the house bitching about everyone in the house… :/

Resolutions 2012: include lose weight, exercise more, try to get a job, blog at least twice a week, move into your own place.

Shock horror, eh? Well, I stuck to most of them this year: I did exercise more, I did try to get a job, this was the year that I started blogging twice a week, and I moved into my own place at the end of January 2012.

Mad Fat Diary #6: January 12, 2012 to Present

(Again: if you’re reading in RSS or a reader or anything similar you’ll probably have to come to the the entry to see the gallery below, which includes all the photos from Mad Fat Diary #6.)

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I’m still in the midst of a breakup when this diary starts. “Let’s hope I find someone amazing who doesn’t ever let me down, or let’s hope that I have lots and lots of unfulfilling sex as I try to fill a void in my life. Personally, I’d hope for the latter. *shifty*”

So far, I’ve counted four entries written to my boyfriend during the breakup.

I want your heart broken
Some sign of emotion
I wanna see the tears tumble down
Show me I meant something
And that you feel nothing
But your world crashing to the ground

Meat Loaf’s Cry Over Me is my definitive break-up song. Screw every other break-up song ever.

November 29, 2011

Dear Diary,

Today’s a pretty bad day. I feel like I’m coming down from the worst high ever and I thought for a minute, “If it wasn’t for Reese and Cola, I’d just kill myself right now.”

That’s how bad it is.

And I know why. I bought a load of crap while I was doing my shopping, and then I ate all of it at once.

I am fat and disgusting and I don’t deserve to live.

I just wish I could fix what was wrong with my brain so I

A) wouldn’t feel like this anymore, and
B) wouldn’t feel the need to eat like this any more.



The first few resolutions for 2013?

  1. Blog at least twice a week. Your readers still deserve this. Try to make them quality posts, too?!
  2. Walk once a day, no matter how short a walk
  3. Lose some fucking weight, you fat fuck.
  4. Turn 30. Don’t die.

Apparently, 2013 was the year to “go fucking big or go fucking home, Tracy.”

Amazingly, 2013 was a really quiet year. I think I spent most of it in front of the PS3. Or FATGIRLslim. But there’s not a lot there, and if there is, it’s stuff that’s, for a change, not about me.

Even when we get into 2014, there aren’t any resolutions. It’s just, “Hey it’s been a while btw this is what’s happened,” and then, this past week, “The Universe decided to drop some shit in my lap this past weekend!”

I think the thing that’s most surprising is that while this probably seems like a lot, considering these diaries cover almost sixteen years of my life, I thought there’d be more self-hate.

Considering how much I sit in my head every day and think, “ugh, I hate being this fat,” (and that’s very rarely not followed up by, “I should do something about that.”) there’s very, very little of it actually written down. Even the entries that are “I’m starting a diet tomorrow!” entries aren’t, for the most part, “I’M STARTING A DIET TOMORROW BECAUSE I’M FAT AND DISGUSTING AN UGLY AND I’M GOING TO KILL MYSELF” entries.

The entries where I’m feeling disgusted with myself are the entries where… well. Where boys or girls are involved. Where food’s been involved in one way or another.

Where things are externalised.

I honestly expected to look back over my diaries, only to find that every other entry was filled with, “I hate myself, I’m so fat and disgusting, I’m going to kill myself and I’m going to bleed Hershey’s syrup because I’m so fat,” kind of a thing.

It’s been weird to find that, mostly, I’m just really, really lonely. My friends are all spread across the globe. I don’t have any friends that aren’t “through a medium” as my therapist puts it.

I’m basically using food to try to fill those voids that I talked about up there. But food isn’t love. Sex isn’t love.

Especially not if it’s the kind of love I can give myself.


Who thinks it’s about time I start forgiving myself? ‘Cause I certainly do.

“Whatever it is that compels me to write a diary is the same thing that inspires me to write and create characters and draw and sing and dance: the inability to express myself verbally or orally. (May 24, 2003)”

FATGIRLslim | Tracy's Mad Fat Diaries

Warning: THIS IS A SERIOUSLY IMAGE-HEAVY POST. But pretty interesting, too.

I don’t know how many of you have been watching My Mad Fat Diary. It should probably be ALL OF YOU, but probably won’t be. It’ll probably be closer to none of you, which is because a lot of y’all are in America. For details, check out the Wikipedia page, because otherwise I’ll spend about 2,000 words babbling about it. Suffice it to say that I found myself relating to the main character, Rae (Rachel), pretty easily… except for the whole bit where boys found her attractive. That never happened to me.

See, I’ve kept a diary ever since I was a kid. Like, since I was maybe five or six. I should have diaries dating back more than 20 years, but the diaries I kept when I was that young got torn up and/or burned when I was scared that my Mum and Dad or sisters would find them. They were the cutesy kind, with the lock on them, and the pretty paper inside. Not such pretty things inside, though, as I’m sure you know by now.

FATGIRLslim | Tracy's Mad Fat Diaries
Instead, my diaries start in 1998, which is where I was 15 and at the end of third year in high school. It’s pretty weird, when I look back through it, because I started this little thing that I’ve kept up: time, music, place and date in the top, and then “dear [journal],” although “dear journal” was only for the one written in the ringbound notebook; the others have all been “dear diary,” except for the entries which have been written specifically aimed at people.

Yes, I sometimes write entries in my diary, aimed specifically at people. No, you don’t want to read them if they’re aimed at you.

This is part one, covering diaries one to four. Part two, covering diaries five and six, is here.

Mad Fat Diary #1: June 7, 1998 – August 17, 1998

FATGIRLslim | Tracy's Mad Fat Diaries
The first entry I found in the 1998 journal re: weight reads as follows:

(time): 10:54am
(place): bedroom
(music): California Dreams OST
(d8): 10/7/98 (July 10th 1998)

Dear Journal,

I have decided that I, Tracy E. Webster, am going to lose weight, and it’s about time too! I’m just not happy with the way I am, and I’m going to change that – I’m going to be happy! I start on Monday!

I don’t know why, “I start on Monday!” According to Google, it was a Friday.

(There’s an entry where I’m listening to “The ‘I dunno’ Song”. Dear 15-year-old-self: WTF.)

21 days later? “Having seen the last diet of mine fall to pieces because of a total lack of willpower [...]“…

Mad Fat Diary #2: August 18, 1998 to December 31, 2000

The second diary, I forgot to get a picture of the actual diary… but you can sort of see the material of the book in the picture up there. Second from top. It’s covered in a kind of brocade fabric, and it’s pretty thick. I’ve got a picture of the inside:

FATGIRLslim | Tracy's Mad Fat Diaries
Most of my diaries have stuff like this: little snippets of my life at the time. A Hanson photo, a photo of boys from high school in a football team? I think, some bank details, and something that’s supposed to be Mandarin but I’ve never been able to figure out what it actually is.

First entry I could find to do with dieting/my weight/hating myself:

September 12, 1998

Dear Diary,

I hate myself. I’m fat and ugly and so hateful. I hate almost everyone I know for one reason or another.

And then I list reasons that I dislike everyone in my life. Including thinking that my BFF-at-the-time was “my idea of perfectness” because she had “a slim body. She’s also dead smart”.

I wish I was kidding.

Date: January 4, 1999

Weight: 19 stones (I believe this is the first actual mention of my WEIGHT in my diaries)

Aim: 15 stones

Dear Diary,
I have once again decided to lose weight. Every Monday I will weigh myself and update you on how well I am doing. Here’s to skinnines!! (sic)

Date: January 6, 2000

Dear Diary,

[...] It’s not their fault (I felt like a third wheel). I could have a boyfriend, but I’m not pretty or a size 10 [...]. None of the guys that I know are interested in me like that because I’m overweight. [My BFF]‘s lucky – she’s normal; I’m a freak.

There’s also a wonderful post in October 2000 where I officially come out to myself, even although I’ve known I’ve been anything-but-straight since about 6-years-old.:

I’m kinda scared to write this down, because if I write it down, then it’s true, and I can’t hide it. I’ve been fighting it since Primary Six, and I feel like it’s killing me. Okay, here goes. Deep breath. Nerves tumbling, heart collapsing, I say: ‘ I’ve fantasised about women since I was eleven. I know I’m not gay because I like guys, but the thought of a penis at the moment makes me sick. Damn you to hell, Thomas King. A woman has never sexually assaulted me, and I guess this is why I am physically attracted to them? Because of this, I know I am bisexual, although I have never yet been with a woman, or kissed one yet either. I, Tracy Elanor Webster, am bisexual.’

I still think it’s funny that the dates are always skewed in things like this. I say, “Since Primary Six”, when I was eleven in Primary Six, but I had a girlfriend when I was aged 5/6, and we snuck off behind bushes to kiss and hold hands and giggle and do girly stuff together. It’s not intentional lying; it’s just unintentional forgetfulness. There’s actually a huge amount of that, dotted all through my diaries… and through my memory.

Reading through my diaries is like looking at a completely different life. I remember complaining about an unhappy childhood and teenagehood, but the amount of complaints in my diaries are… wow. Impressive. I don’t remember hating my parents and siblings and my friends quite as much as I make out in my own handwriting.

It’s amazing.

Mad Fat Diary #3: April 30, 2002 to May 24, 2003

Book three was a book bought for me by my friend, James. I describe him in the first page as, “Best guy-friend in the world. From Norfolk (OOH-ARR! [- even although, y'know, Norfolk's in the feckin' EAST] – very sweet + innocent. We think.)” He’s still my best guy-friend in the world. :D

FATGIRLslim | Tracy's Mad Fat Diaries
This one’s just a plain black lined notebook with a panel of artwork stuck on the front – Latin writing in the middle, and I have no idea what any of it actually is, obviously. I like the actual notebook, though.

FATGIRLslim | Tracy's Mad Fat Diaries
The little “self-esteem” sticker came from an egg vending machine somewhere in Oregon, close to Century High School in Hillsboro, I think? If I can remember properly. The diary starts before we knew we were going to Oregon. I probably weigh about 25st (350lbs), and I’m working in a video store in town.

But there’s an entry, five days before I’m due to go to Oregon, when I’m talking about my fears about leaving the country, which include:

  1. [Forgetting] my passport
  2. [Breaking] my glasses on the way to the ‘plane
  3. Lost my luggage
  4. Couldn’t fit in the seat
  5. Wasn’t allowed on, due to weight restrictions

Funny thing? I fit in the seat just fine, and I’ve never once been questioned about my weight when flying. I’ve never once been told that I’ll need to buy two tickets – if I had, I’d be screwed and stranded at the airport – despite my fears due to what I’ve seen in the news.

(In that same entry, I’m also talking about our hamster, and apparently he’s called Mr. Nibblesworth. I’m pretty sure that was my little sister’s doing, like she was the one that named our cat Twig. Haha!)

But still, resolutions for 2003 included, “Lose weight by: [going] to the gym 3 times a week (starting Monday) as long as we’re here.” and “care more about myself” as well as “improve [my] life”. That was the year that I got put on the combined Pill; the year when Mum and I started eating healthily and I got a (sort-of) boyfriend and a (sort-of) girlfriend and I walked everywhere and swam a lot and lost something like 40 or 50lbs in 4 months, and then put it all back on and then some when I went home.

And I never did actually go to the gym three times a week while we lived in Oregon. But I did go for a swim in the complex pool almost every day.

It’s weird that it’s not often I actually talk about the crazy, though, like I’m fine admitting the fat and the gay but talking about the crazy? No no no, don’t talk about the crazy because then it’s REAL.

January 6, 2003, John and Marrie’s Kitchen

Dear Diary,

I think I might be crazy. I think I keep on seeing things and I keep on hearing people shouting on me when there’s no-one there.

But mostly, it’s the seeing things. I see shadows and reflections of things that aren’t there.

And it’s not paranoia. I haven’t been doing anything to be paranoid about, but I still don’t know why I’m seeing things.

There goes one now; a shadow just passed behind my left shoulder, and five minutes ago, I could have sworn someone stroked my arm.

Truth be told, this still happens to me – the shadows thing – but I’m on Quetiapine/Seroquel for the voices after I went to see a psychiatrist in 2004/5 when I heard someone whisper my name right in my ear, and heard someone banging in a wardrobe that belonged to the house we were living in, despite the fact that I was alone in the house, since my little sister was in Canada, and my parents were up in the Highlands or something.

There’s other stuff in this one, too – like how there’s the entry where I lose my virginity (one month and a day after my 20th birthday), and it’s written in GLITTER GEL PEN (Dear 20year-old-self: WHY?!) but when The Boy comes into the picture, there is, of course, talk about “it’s the last fucking time [I pig out]. I want to be one of the girls the guys see wearing a bikini down by the pool and immediately wish they had X-Ray vision. And it might seem shallow, but it’s not just about that. My knees are hurting, and I can’t walk up the two flights of stairs to my room all at once without either getting out of breath or getting lightheaded. I want to go cycling with [The Boy]. I want to be able to jump in the pool without hitting the bottom. I want the boys to pick me up and I want to have a reason to wax my bikini line. I want to be able to play with the kids [I'm babysitting] and not just watch them play with each other and I want to be able to dance and be silly and crazy and I want a fucking GODDAMNED LIFE™.”

Mad Fat Diary #4: June 18, 2003 to December 12, 2006

(Anyone reading in RSS or a reader or anything similar might have to come to the the entry to see the gallery below, which includes all the photos from Mad Fat Diary #4.)

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The start of this one’s mostly me bitching about The Boy and The Girl and how they’ve gone off to have a nice wee relationship by themselves, and I’ve been left all by my lonesome. There is a lot of bitching from me, let me tell you. Annoyingly, it’s mostly about how I still really, really like them both, but, “I know I’m not a keeper. I know that. I just wish I could have been ‘kept’ a little longer, to find out if we had a relationship or not.” At this point, I’ve basically convinced myself that the reason The Boy and I broke up, and the reason The Girl and I broke up, is because of my weight, and how I look.

There’s an entire entry dedicated to the fact that I’m not as pretty as The Girl, and would The Boy and I still be together if I was thin?

(For those confused: There was The Boy. Stuff Happened between The Boy and I; he called it “a relationship”; I’m not entirely convinced that’s what it was. I don’t think he was, either. Then there was The Girl. Who ended up dating The Boy. And who ended up dating me. And. Stuff. It got complicated. :|)

It’s really weird that this diary doesn’t have any/many(?) cinema tickets stuck in it, because it’s OREGON, and I know that I have a lot of stubs from the Tanasbourne Cinema, including at least 7 from going to see whichever Lord of The Rings and Pirates of The Caribbean movies were out at the time, and one from the Only Date I’ve Ever Been On In My Life And Even That Wasn’t Really A Date when The Boy and I went to see Tomb Raider together.

[...] or it’s the way I look or… or he’s a coward and afraid his friends would laugh at him if they saw him with me.

Basically, all of 2003 is me bitching about what a dickface The Boy is. Because he was. I don’t know him now; I could request an add on Facebook and see if he’s still a dickface, but. Yeah, not going there. There’s a reason I’m not friends with him anymore.

2004 starts with: “Still trying to do good on my resolutions. As of tomorrow, though, I’m seriously going to cut out the junk. I am sick to death of being fat, lazy and slobbish.”

This is the year that I went to college, so it’s about a month before I joined Weight Watchers for the first time.

Wow, there’s a terrible piece of poetry. When I was 19/20/21 etc, I used to write terrible poetry all the time. I never knew there was a bit of it in my diary, though.

August 15, 2004, Uncle Andrew’s old room, Granny and Granda’s house

Dear Diary

Have you ever missed a day at church
Have you ever told a lie?
Have you ever sworn deliberately
To make a young one cry?

Have you ever hurt a loved one?
Have you ever slept around?
Have you ever wished a bomb would fall
And flatten your whole town?

Have you ever done a terrible thing?
Have you ever done something worse?
Have you ever walked right through the mall
And made a grab at someone’s purse?

Have you ever been a bad girl?
Ever kicked in someone’s head?
Have you ever been something other than good?
Ever wished that you were dead?

Would God forgive me my sins,
If I forgive him his?
Have you never wanted anything
That was more than this?

I should probably include a disclaimer that not all of this is about me, but sitting in Granny and Granda’s house before heading to college, under the watchful gaze of a crucifix or two, brings out a guilt you wouldn’t believe.

But then, of course, I basically stopped writing while I was in college, unless it was to talk about my girlfriend/fiancée, or the roleplay group I was a part of, or my plans to apply to University of the Arts London after finishing my HND Graphic Design, so that I could move down to London to live with some of my fellow RPers. At this point in time, I preferred to write online, on Livejournal, but annoyingly, I’ve done a few clean-ups of my Livejournal accounts, and a lot of it’s missing.

So, my birthday, 2006: resolved to “exercise at least 15 minutes a day. Lose weight,” etc etc.

March 29, 2006

Dear Diary,

Wow, a week already. Still haven’t exercised or anything yet. I know it’s hard to get started and everything, but hey! I danced a lot at the weekend [while probably being blind drunk]. Does that count? I hope so. My arms were killing me on Sunday, along with the rest of me. But it was so worth it.

I think the brackets kind of explain a lot about college and the year after: blind drunk. I spent about €100 every weekend I lived at home going out with my parents, and probably £40 I was at college. And during the week, it was two bottles of rum and probably about six or seven bottles of Diet Coke during the week because I was a fucking alcoholic and couldn’t get through a day without a drink.

Sometimes, I think my girlfriend/fiancée had it right to get shot of me when she did. It took me until… oooh, late 2006 to give up the drinking-every-day schtick, I think. Which I replaced with eating-a-tub-of-dulce-du-leche-Haagen-Dazs ever day, because I bought it on the way home from work and my flat at the time didn’t have a fridge or freezer so it all had to be eaten at once. The same reason I lived on takeaway for a solid six months…

Want to read more? Because there’s more. There’s still another two diaries to go, including that one time my sister and I auditioned for The Biggest Loser

Continue on to part two!

(First off: sorry for the lateness of the second review. Life dropped something in my lap over the weekend when I was supposed to be writing this up, and I couldn’t get on the computer for more than 5 minutes. I’ll explain in another post!)


Phentaslim Bottle - FATGIRLslim Phentaslim Review

The Outcome

Before I get started on the nitty-gritty of the actual details (weigh-in and measurements, etc) of the month, I’d obviously like to talk about how the month felt.

When I was taking Optimum Nutra’s other supplement, Superfruit Slim, there was a noticeable increase in my energy; I mentioned that in the review at the time.

However, while taking Phentaslim, not only was there an increase in my energy, but there was an increase in my alertness. I wasn’t just able to feel energised during the month, but I felt awake during the month, and it wasn’t the same kind of energy you get from a cup of coffee. It was the kind of energy you get from a really good night’s sleep. I’m not just saying that, either! During the last month, my sleep pattern has completely changed. I’ve gone from sleeping until 3 in the afternoon, to going to sleep close to midnight and waking before noon, looking forward to the day.

There’ve been days when I think the only reason I’ve been able to stay awake, has been because of the energy Phentaslim‘s given me. I had a day where I had 4 hours’ sleep, and I managed to stay awake until midnight without napping, where normally I’d sleep for a few hours during the day and then go to sleep really, REALLY late and regret the whole thing and… ugh, yes.

I also feel as though my appetite’s been lessened, which is quite amazing, considering how much it’s already been lessened by my use of Slimpods, but there’ve been days when I’ve literally been happy just eating my three meals. The last time that happened to me, I must have been a kid. But it happened more than once, this month. And I’m pretty sure hell hasn’t frozen over.

All right, though. Time to get down to the nitty-gritty, huh?

Weigh-in time.

Mid-Month Phentaslim Weigh-in

-8.5lbs since Phentaslim Part One

If we go by my March weigh-in, I’ve lost 8.5lbs since I started taking Phentaslim… but that’s not including the weight I gained and lost during the month. I mentioned in the April weigh-in that I almost hit 380lbs at one point in March, due to a seriously low ebb in my mood and the accompanying binge-eating, which means it’s actually more like 15lbs. (Plus a couple more, probably, since I’ve also just gotten over That Time Of The Month…)

I’m more than thrilled with that weigh-in. I can actually feel the difference in my body – my knees don’t hurt as bad as they do when I’m creeping up to the 380s; I’m not gasping for air as much when I’m climbing the stairs to my flat; and while my back still hurts, I can walk that wee bit further before it starts hurting.

It’s all good!

Mid-Month Phentaslim Measurements

March, 2014

  • Left wrist: 7″
  • Upper left arm: 18″
  • Left thigh: 33″
  • Left calf: 20″
  • Left ankle: 11.75″

  • Right wrist: 7″
  • Upper right arm: 19″
  • Right thigh: 33″
  • Right calf: 19″
  • Right ankle: 10.25″

  • Neck: 16″
  • Bust: 57″
  • Band size: 48.75″
  • Waist: 54″
  • Hips: 66″
April, 2014

  • Left wrist: 7″
  • Upper left arm: 18″
  • Left thigh: 32″ (-1″)
  • Left calf: 20″
  • Left ankle: 12″ (+0.25″)

  • Right wrist: 7″
  • Upper right arm: 19″
  • Right thigh: 33″
  • Right calf: 19″
  • Right ankle: 10.25″

  • Neck: 15.5″ (-0.5″)
  • Bust: 57″
  • Band size: 50″ (+1.25″)
  • Waist: 54″
  • Hips: 68.25″ (-2.5″)

Phentaslim Pros

Well, I talked above about the best pros above: the amazing energy and awareness that you get while taking Phentaslim. I’m not even kidding! I wish I had more than a month’s worth. :) If I was a student, I’d kill for the energy and alertness these things give you – so long as you use them WISELY, and as PART OF A VARIED AND BALANCED DIET, and don’t use Phentaslim as a substitute for food or as a substitute for a varied and balanced diet. >:( Pills ≠ food.

But they really are quite amazing when it comes to increasing energy and alertness. I can’t talk science re: their claims for supercharged metabolism and thermogenic fat burning, but my weigh-in’s pretty effing decent, considering I didn’t do any actual exercise this month. I walked home once or twice (two miles at most) and did the grocery shopping. Usual stuff.

I didn’t do any intentional exercise this month!

And I do like the fact that they smell like raspberries when you’re taking the pill out of the bottle. But that’s a personal thing. :)

Phentaslim Cons

The cons list is really, really small, because there have only been two side effects that I’ve noticed.


It may just be me, but I’ve noticed quite a big increase in my need to urinate this month. That includes going to the bathroom during the night. I usually go once a night anyway, but while taking Phentaslim, I’ve been going twice a night; once, I went three times a night. It’s not a huge inconvenience, and not a terrible thing. It just means that I’ve had to remember to “go” before I go out, more than I usually do, and that I’ve been going more than usual.

(And my pee is kind of pink sometimes!)


Probably connected to the above, I’ve needed to drink a heck of a lot more this month than usual, which I fully expected, given that caffeine is a diuretic. It’s not unusual, and, as I said, I totally expected it, and it’s probably completely different for everybody, but just something you should look out for!

Phentaslim: Overall

Overall, I was absolutely thrilled with my month on Phentaslim. I had masses of energy, I felt alert, and I was able to pay attention to what I was doing without my bipolar disorder taking over and having me run away to do seventy thousand things an hour. Being able to pay attention was a wonderful thing, and meant that I was able to sit and knit and crochet and watch TV for a good long while, and I got a good chunk of a project for my Granny done, when I’d have gotten bored easily and moved onto something else if I hadn’t been taking it.

I love the fact that my appetite was suppressed without me even realising it – and isn’t even a claim made by the pill! – and that I’ve seen a really good weight-loss, even if the measurements don’t quite match up, although that could be down to using a new 120″ measuring tape this month, where I was using a different measuring tape last month.

Overall: ★★★★★

Recommendation, Phentaslim Availability & Pricing

I’d definitely recommend Phentaslim to anyone who needs more energy for looking after kids or trying to exercise or trying to study while losing weight; the caffeine and guarana should work wonders for you!

As for everyone else?

Well, if you’re interested, why not give it a try?! Phentaslim is 100% natural, and even comes with a 30-Day Guarantee, so if you’re not 100% happy, you can get a refund (subject to terms and conditions, of course).

I honestly can’t recommend it highly enough.

It’s available exclusively at Phentaslim.com, and is priced like so:

Starter Pack – 1 Month’s Supply (30 Pills): £34.95 (a saving of £25!)

2 Months’ Supply – 60 Pills: £59.95 + free shipping (a saving of £59.95!)

3 Months’ Supply + 1 MONTH FREE! – 120 Pills: £89.95 + free shipping (a WHOPPING saving of £149.95)

And I’d be really, really thrilled if you’d share this review far and wide, using the “sharing is caring!” links below. :)


I have not been monetarily compensated for this review. I received 1 (one) month’s supply of Phentaslim.com to try and review, and was not required to, nor asked to, write a positive review. My opinions are my own. As stated in my disclosure page, any links in this page are affiliate links, which means that, should you buy a product linked from this page, I’ll receive an affiliate’s payment for it.

In Which Tracy Goes Into The Woods Again - Title Image

Into The Woods

I’ve been waiting for a good enough day to walk home from Mum and Dad’s house, so that I could go through Udston and Glenlee Woods again; the last time I was there was apparently September 2013, according to Foursquare. And since I’m the one who created the Foursquare check-ins for the two woods, and I’m probably the only one who knows they exist, I’m probably the only person who’s ever checked into them.

So I’ll trust Foursquare on that one.

It was kind of weird. Still a little muddy, not really as overgrown as I thought it’d be. I know that green things tend to stop growing in the winter, given that whole lack of nourishing sunshine thing, but I also know that there are some things in the woods that thrive in winter.

It was even more weird that the place looked completely empty in some places, though. I know that there are some spots that are new plants, and so it’s expected that the trees are going to be extra-bare when there aren’t any leaves around, but it actually looks like half of the trees are gone at one bit.

At another bit, just as you get into the Glenlee Woods, there was this awesome bit, where I normally go down to the left and follow the creek down, but today I went to the right.

Mostly because of this, on the left:

In Which Some Things Didn't WANT Tracy To Go Into The Woods Again

In Which Some Things Didn’t WANT Tracy To Go Into The Woods Again

I probably could have gotten under it, but with the ground as squishy as it was, I also didn’t wanna risk going to the left and falling on my ass and rolling into the creek. (I’m not sure it is a creek. I’m pretty sure if you follow it, though, it leads to the River Clyde. Which, in turn, leads down to my hometown of Greenock. Which is pretty shibby.)

So I went to the right, and found the big Oak tree. I’m not ashamed to say that I talked to him for a wee minute. You have to talk to Oak trees. *nod* Especially when you’re from Greenock. (Green. Oak. Well, not really, but it’s a town legend. *grin*)

Then I crossed the bridge, and found one of the two big American Redwoods – I read somewhere that there are only two in these woods, although how the hell there are two American Redwoods in these woods in the first place, I’ll never know! – and went over to see it, because it looked, I swear to god, like the bark was fuzzy! It wasn’t exactly fuzzy, but it was kind of… it had just kind of broken like that, so the ends were all soft and not jaggy, and it was really nice, actually!

And then there were the cheeky grey squirrels running over my head and dropping the blossoms on me, and the guy who looked at me like I was nuts ’cause I looked like I was just staring at the trees when I was actually watching the squirrels, oops. XD

But there are so many bare patches, it’s weird. Hard to say whether the Council’s clear-up guys have been in and were over-zealous, or whether it’s just because it’s spring and everything isn’t back to its end-of-summer beauty like I saw it last year, which is kind of sad, because it was beautiful last year, when I was picking wild raspberries the whole time, and even when I couldn’t get my hands on any brambles because everyone else was stealing them, it was still beautiful.

And the best news is that if I get this job I’m going for on Wednesday, I can walk through Glenlee to get to it every day it’s a good day! How’s that for a nice wee bonus, eh?

Fingers crossed.

-0.5lbs since Jan 15 2013

Yay! I’m in the minus digits again!

An apology and an explanation for the late weigh-in

Well, kind of but not really. Sorry I didn’t post it yesterday. Kind of didn’t want to post a weigh-in on April Fool’s Day! Especially not one that’s good like that.

And I know it’s not 8lbs (which would be an average, 2lbs-a-week kind of a month), but I’ll take what I get!

Considering the fact that I’m actually keeping an eye on my weight if I feel something’s a little off (like my knees hurting going down the stairs, and getting really out-of-breath when getting to the top of the stairs in m close), I stepped on the scale at one point during the earlier part of March, and the scales read 379.somethinglbs.

When I was saying that I was having a really tough time lately, I wasn’t joking. It was worse than I was letting on; I tried explaining that. I don’t think I quite got it across.

One fortnight, I didn’t have enough money to buy an actual proper shopping – like, meat and fruit and veg and stuff – because a lot of my bills have converged into the first two/two and a half weeks of the month. And what money I did have, I spent on buying junk food, instead of proper food, because that’s what my pleasure centres wanted, according to my therapist.

She said I’m not getting the good feelings elsewhere most of the times – my lack of friends and human contact means I’ve got these weird problems with impulse control, and despite the fact I don’t actually have cravings any more [YAY THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN, seriously, I can't thank Sandra at ThinkingSlimmer.com and Slimpods enough. CRAVINGS SUCK.] I still have impulses to stifle the lack of pleasure and happiness that you’d usually get from things like human interaction and just… basic day-to-day activities like going to work and being around other people and walking around and stuff.

So yeah, that’s happened once or twice now. What it means is that I’m actually starting to get signs of what I keep on thinking of as, “Oh dear fucking god no, please tell me I’m not getting malnourished,” but it probably is. It’s showing up as little blisters in the back of my throat that I need to reach in and scratch to pop so they don’t rub against my tongue and drive me mad. The one time I actually remembered to buy multi-vitamins from Lidl, I took them for two months, and the blister-y things went away! So yeah. Lack of macronutrients and vitamins. Signs that I need to eat actual food, and not try to subsist on a diet of pastries, crisps, and gummy sweets.

But that’s also why, at one point in March, I almost hit 380lbs again.

It’s also why, at the start of April, I’ve got my head on straight. Again. Therapy’s slowly breaking me down. I’ve never cried in front of anyone as much as I’ve cried in front of Dr. Walton, I think. (Or, well, not in this short a time, anyway. Over the 31 years, I’ve probably cried in front of Mum more, obviously. Linda and Lorna, too, maybe. Haven’t cried in front of Dad too much, I hope. [*♥ my family*]) She doesn’t put up with my bullshit, and that’s important. She threatened to discharge me if I didn’t actually start to process stuff, because, uh, how else am I going to change?

And I think that’s the important part, really, isn’t it?

I have to want to change.

Maybe I’ve been blogging all these years, thinking I’ve wanted to change, but deep down I’ve been scared I’d never make it or that something’d go wrong or I’d still be a laughing stock or something. I’ve not been ready to change.

I think I’m ready to change now.

I’m ready to change so that I can stop being in pain.

I’m ready to change so that I can be happy.

I’m ready to change so that I can be healthy.

I’m ready to change so that I can have a future.

So I’m going to change.

FATGIRLslim’s going to go through some changes, too, in the next month, but don’t worry, you’ll probably hardly notice a thing.


The important thing is that I’ve got my head on straight, looking to the future, and that I’m seeing clearly and I’m not scared anymore.

That’s a good first step, right?

My second interview, the face-to-face interview, was this afternoon, and I’m going to apologise straight up, because I didn’t get a photo of my outfit. When I got home, basically what I did was the fastest undressing I think I’ve ever done in my life upon coming home (and this includes the few times that reproductive acts were imminent).

I’d gone through the interview, which I think went pretty well. I’ll not tell a lie: I’ll be very, very surprised if I get the job, as it involves being on my feet 7 hours a day, 5 days a week, and the other two gentlemen who were down in the foyer with me were… well. “Normal”-sized.

I know they can’t not choose me on that basis, but I also had to answer that I had no experience in one of the questions, as that was complete truth (no, I have no experience with car parks from a parking point of view, other than yelling at my Dad from the side/backseat about how bad other people’s parking is), but I’m supposed to find out tomorrow, so we’ll see.

Luckily, however, there was this photo that @CommitToAwesome on Twitter replied to two days ago that made me think of which outfit I wanted to wear:

Almost My Job Interview Outfit
I didn’t wear the hat, and I wore my black boots and my smart city shorts instead of leggings. I also wore the Obi-Belt underneath my boobs. Before I rushed out the door, I had a moment to think: “I look like I’m auditioning for a part on Pirates of The Caribbean.”

I meant to take my coat off when I got into the building, but kept it on because I didn’t take my bag off. Oops. So I got interviewed wearing a bright red coat instead of my cream-coloured Victorian-inspired dress. Hopefully the sleeves of which covered the tattoo on my wrist; I’ve been turned down for a job before, the role of which didn’t even deal with the public, because “we can’t hire you because of your tattoo; it goes against our ethics”. No joke.

Makeup was a smokey eye (with a tiny hint of pink), the pink-toned pillarbox red lipstick, and my eyebrows filled in. The second that I put foundation on, I swear my eyebrows disappear.

Makeup for Interview
The makeup I wore for the interview: smokey eye (with a hint of pink); contoured cheeks; pink-red lips.

I Hate This Foundation
Unfortunately, this is what my foundation looked like. It didn’t look this bad when I was putting it on, I swear. The different lights, I suppose? But when I was taking it off, I just sort of went, “WHOA WHAT THE HELL,” and immediately found the foundation and threw it in the bin, because despite the fact it looked fine on my jawline when I tried it on, and the fact that I’ve put it on with my fingers before, this is the first time I’ve put it on with my ACTUAL FOUNDATION BRUSH LIKE I’M SUPPOSED TO, AND IT LOOKS DREADFUL.

Fingers crossed the ladies in the interview didn’t count my foundation against me. Everything else looked good, right?!

Ugh, but anyway. I got out of the interview, had a wee cheeky McD’s for my lunch (3/4s of a Chicken Royale, 1/2 large fries, 1/2 large milkshake. I’d have been better ordering a medium meal, but I’d forgotten how much smaller my portions are since restarting my Slimpods, and I really wanted the Monopoly pieces…) and headed down to Watt Brothers for some more wool (why? My wool box is actually overflowing. I don’t need new wool. But I need different colours, which is annoying. I need a bigger damn BOX. XD) and then down to Iceland to buy some ACTUAL FOOD.

Or, well. Actual FROZEN FOOD.

Like, I have frozen breaded cod fillets, and Aunt Bessie’s chips, and a turkey breast, and chicken breasts, and things like that, and again, I won’t lie: I bought Cornettos. But I have FOOD. In my freezer. I need to actually go to Lidl tomorrow on the way home from therapy to get fruit and veggies and milk and eggs and stuff, but I have FOOD.



It also meant that I was walking around for an hour and a half just as my painkillers were running out, so I got a bus home instead of walking the half mile. Not lazy. Also not a waste of money, because the buses were broken all day, and weren’t charging anyone anything. :D I got a free ride into town, and a free ride back home.

Can’t complain about that.

Now I just need to get through tomorrow and see how this job interview has turned out. See if smart/casual was the way to go, or not.

Tracy Looks Totally Fabulous

In Which Tracy Looks (Totally) Fabulous
I actually managed to take a decent photo of myself today.


This post was not endorsed by SimplyBe. I’m just a huge fan, have an account, and buy a lot of my clothes there. None of these links, unless otherwise stated in the Disclosure post, are affiliate links.

FATGIRL’s Fatshion

While I’m not a fatshion blog, I do actually have quite an interest in fashion, even if I don’t follow trends. Admittedly, I spend mostly of my time dressed in “whatever’s comfortable”, but for the most part, if there’s an event – birthday, Christmas, a night out – I do prefer to look good, and have a tendency to panic about what to wear, and have an even worse tendency to spend money that I don’t have on outfits for one day.

I got lucky, when I found out that I had an interview, in that I found a dress on SimplyBe, for £13.50 (at the time), that was not only cute, but (mostly) black, and almost indecently cute. I also actually bought a piece of lingerie, in the shape of a slip.

Now, you’ve already seen what I planned to wear to my interview in this post; I actually decided to go with different shoes, and to go with a different belt altogether. (Since I only own two belts, it’s kind of a one-or-the-other situation with my belts, haha!)

So here, have a few photos of what I ended up wearing today (I also used the bag in this post, which is super-cute, and matched the feel of the outfit, but still had a kind of seriousness about it somehow, like, “I AM SERIOUS. I WILL WORK HARD SO I CAN BUY PRETTY THINGS.” kind of a thing):

In Which Tracy Looks Terrific: Shoooooooooes
Shoes! I’ve had these shoes seemingly for a million years. I think I got them while I was in college. And if I didn’t get them while I was in college, I definitely got them when I was working in either AMAP/Plot or The Topic, which is somewhere between 7 and 8 years ago. AND THEY’RE NOT EVEN LEATHER. They’re just amazing.

In Which Tracy Looks Terrific: The Complete Outfit
The Complete Outfit. Yes, I only buttoned up one of my buttons, because it makes my shape look better. And yes, my hair looks dreadful because it’s been blown around by the wind. I hope it didn’t look this bad while I was in the room with the council ladies…

In Which Tracy Looks Terrific: See the difference when I wear the purple belt vs. the black belt?
See the difference? I think the pop of colour from the purple belt makes a huge, huge difference – and also the fact that the purple belt is less malleable meant that it didn’t squish up under my boobs and disappear. Which is totally a good thing.

Just ignore the cat butt in the background…

I feel like I should point out at this juncture that this is probably the first time since I was a kid that I’ve gone out in an outfit – not including dresses, because this is also technically a dress, but it’s mimicking something else in its styling – that the top doesn’t extend over the bottom, covering my stomach.

See, my huge, huge, hugest fear is that people will see my stomach hanging down. It’s stupid, because it’s completely obviously there, and I actually don’t worry about my huge butt, but my stomach? Yes. I worry about them seeing my stomach. I cannot get t-shirts or tops long enough to cover it, and it sends me into panic attacks sometimes when I’m trying to find something to wear and I can’t find a top that meets my jeans/trousers/jogging pants and goes beyond them.

The best tops I can find to do this? Those skater-style arse-skimming “dresses” that are in right now. I’m tall enough and everything on me hands low enough that it just looks like a long top on me, which is kind of shitty – and also why we should have models at both ends of the scale. (Seriously. Look at that dress, above, on me, and then look at the dress on the model. I’m 5′ 10″, and I weigh somewhere around 373~lbs. How tall is the model in the SimplyBe photo? The skirt doesn’t reach MY knees. And look at the photo of me in the slip, below. And look at the photo of the model in the slip. Same story. Models on both ends of the scale. Seriously.)

In Which Tracy Looks Terrific: Tracy actually owns lingerie
I actually own lingerie. I like this slip; it’s multi-way, so I can take the straps off, or do them crossover or whatever. It also doesn’t slide up, which is awesome. Minus points? It doesn’t suck my stomach in as much as I’d like. :(

Fatshion Future?

So, today’s “interview” wasn’t even a proper interview. What happened was a 10-minute written test: “are these license plates the same or different/are these street names the same or different; do these sums with time, and then put the answers in ascending order”. (The last part was actually evil.)

The problem is that I was informed in the email that it would be an interview-stroke-written assessment that would last HALF AN HOUR, which generally means talking to someone.

I mean, I’m glad I put the effort in, because (as I said on Instagram), I’d rather put the effort in and (having been shown to put the effort in), get the job, than put no effort in and not get the job.

I’ve got to wait and see if I get called up for a second interview, which probably will require actually talking to someone. In which case, WHAT DO I WEAR THEN?!

I have this dress that I bought from George @ ASDA last year, and even although it’s actually a size 24, some of the size 24s in ASDA have this weird tendency to fit me. (I’ve got at least 3 tops that fit me with no problem… :|)

And it’s a beautiful shape, and definitely interview material. But, I-need-an-opinion-time, is it too tight?

In Which Tracy Looks Terrific: A size 24 George @ ASDA dress
It looks kind of okay from the front, except for the gut-hips at the side.

And then we get to the side-shot, and I think: I know this is supposed to be fit-and-flare, but this is a little too extreme, isn’t it?

So, what say y’all? Does the dress need to weight (haha, that pun’ll never get old) until I’ve lost a good few inches? Or do we think it looks all right now?

I personally like the top part of it, but not the bottom. I think the butt-n-belly make it too short, and a slight breeze’ll mean my lingerie’s on show for the whole world. I’m thinking that for the next interview, if I’m not wearing this, I’m probably going to go for my smart city shorts and… something.

I want more polka dots.

Happy Birthday, Tracy!

Perhaps not shockingly, as I turned thirty last year, I turned thirty-one this year.

We didn’t even do anything special for the day this year; Dad managed to get the day off, though, so everyone was here, except for Lorna and Matt (SADFACE), who are, of course, still in Canada until May. I cannot wait until May, when I’ll get to see them for a while before they go back home again. Stupid short holidays.

Huge difference between this year and last year?

I still have most of my cake left, this year.

When I came home last year, I had a chunk of my birthday cake that I’d brought home with me, and by the time midnight came around, I didn’t have any of it left. Right now, I’ve had one (wee) slice of the cake at Mum and Dad’s house, and I did bring home a big chunk of it, but I cut the chunk in half, acrossways, and then down the middle, too, and had one of the wee bits from the middle when I got home.

I understand that this is more than “normal” people have, but I hope people also realise that, at my size, I’m far from normal, and that this isn’t a slip-up. It’s my birthday, and perfectly allowed to have one-and-a-bit pieces of birthday cake!

Of course, I think this is entirely down to the Slimpods, which I’ve thankfully started listening to every night again. My food choices have been better at meals, when I’ve been grocery shopping, although I still need to work on my impulse purchasing.

(Wonder if there’s a Slimpod for impulse control? Hah. Maybe I’m just doomed for that one.)

But I sat down with myself last night and made some (birthday) resolutions. I figured, why make New Year’s Resolutions when for me, a new year technically doesn’t start until March 22?

So here we go.

Tracy’s Resolutions: Year Thirty-One

  • Give up drinking alcohol for the year
  • Try to learn how to love even the worst parts of myself.
  • Make at least one new friend.
  • Don’t think you’re a failure if you don’t manage the above.

Why the alcohol thing?

Why not?

I don’t tend to drink a lot of alcohol, which means that when I do, there’s usually a reason. And it’s usually a bad reason. I turn to drink for the same reasons I turn to food: anger, guilt, hatred. At myself. It’s a coping mechanism.

I had a bottle of Crabbie’s Alcoholic Ginger Beer in the fridge that’d been in there for about three months (maybe more), and I drank that last night while eating my dinner, and whether it’s because I don’t drink a lot now, or because of the pills I’m on (another good reason not to drink!), but even just that little amount – 4% alcohol, 500ml – had me a little lightheaded. Coming from a former alcohol, that’s… incredible.

Mostly, though, it’s the pills. If nothing else, it’s a good excuse, hah.

The rest, I think, are self-explanatory.

I spend far too much time, which could otherwise be spent being productive, being completely counter-productive. And I’d quite like someone in this neck of the woods, of my own age, to…

Well, I’m not entirely sure what to do. What do people do when they’re friends and live near one another? The last time that happened, I was still into the club/bar scene. Or in high school.

Oh my, how times have changed.

(I also have this plan to totally invade America and just live illegally in my friend’s loft. That’d work, too. /laughing)

As a wee random added fun piece:

Happy birthday, Tracy! from Google

I went to Google (obviously to search for something), and laughed, “Ha! Google’s celebrating my birthday!” But when I hovered over to see what the celebration was (550th birthday of the sponge cake, maybe?)… they, uh. Actually ARE celebrating my birthday. I’ve never seen anyone mention them do this before!

You might remember that I tested out Superfruit Slim last summer. The same company offered me the opportunity to test out their other dietary supplement, Phentaslim, and of course I said yes, as I’d had a very positive experience with Superfruit Slim.

Phentaslim – Packaging

As with the Superfruit Slim shipping packaging, it’s completely discreet, with no hint that it’s any kind of weight loss or herbal product; if any of you are embarrassed about that sort of thing, you can lay your mind to rest!

Phentaslim Shipping/Packaging
Completely discreet packaging!

The Bottle And Contents

Phentaslim Bottle
The bottle definitely looks like a health supplement, doesn’t it?! (The asterisk leads to the following on the back: * These statements have not been evaluated by the FDA. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any disease.)

Phentaslim "For Your Protection"
While Phentaslim has the ubiquitous Sealed For Your Protection sticker – which is surprisingly difficult to remove, which is a good thing! – it doesn’t have the cotton ball pad that Superfruit Slim had. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing! Does anyone know what the point of those things are, anyway? :)

Phentaslim pill/bottle size comparison
The size of the pill, as compared to the size of the bottle; it’s an average-sized pill. And they smell vaguely of raspberries!

Ingredients List and Claims

The claims made by Phentaslim are that the supplement will help you to supercharge your metabolism, will give you extreme energy and mood support, and provide thermogenic fat burning. It’s the specific ingredients included, such as guarana seed, green tea, capsicum and raspberry ketones that provide these effects.

It also includes Vitamins B1, B2, B6 and B12, which, at the correct levels, are clinically proven to support and increase the rate of metabolism, maintain healthy skin, hair and muscle tone, enhance immune and nervous system function and promote cell growth and division. (Some text taken directly from Phentaslim.com.)

This is the full ingredients list:

Phentaslim ingredients

Impressions Of Phentaslim So Far

I’ve been taking Phentaslim for a week already, and the main difference I’ve noticed is, of course, my energy levels. I’ve had at least one day where I’ve been surviving on minimum sleep (4 hours!) but I’ve lasted because I had the energy from Phentaslim – I don’t think I’d have managed without.

As for other effects, I can’t say; my weigh-in will come at the end of the month, as will my measurements. For now, however, I’m relishing the ability to stay awake for a full day, even when I’ve not a full night’s sleep.

I’m looking forward to the next three weeks, to see how the increased energy will help, and to see how true the claims are. My metabolism can do with some boosting!

Availability and Pricing

Phentaslim is available exclusively at Phentaslim.com. One month’s supply (60 capsules) is £34.95; two months’ supply (120 capsules) is £59.95; if you buy 3 months’ supply, you get three months plus one month free, at £89.95.

And every purchase comes with a no-quibble money-back guarantee. :)


Check out the website, Phentaslim.com, for further details on everything I’ve mentioned above and more. There’s complete information, testimonials, FAQs and pricing information available for your perusal, as well as a contact form if you need any further information before making a purchase.


I have received no monetary compensation for this review; I received one month’s supply (60 capsules) of the Phentaslim Dietary Supplement in return for an honest review. I was not required to write a positive review. All words, except where stated, are entirely my own. All opinions are, and will remain, my own.

I mentioned on Twitter, that I have my first job interview since 2010. Seriously. 2010.

So, what’s the first thing I do, ten days before my first-stage, written interview?

I panic about what I’m going to wear, of course. I don’t know if I’m going to talk to anyone at length, or what’s going to be involved in the written interview, but I figured that there’s no harm in being well-dressed.

Of course, I only own one actual outfit kind of a thing – pants, a shirt, and a sweater (or, a sweater/fake shirt thing, too) – so I decided to go for a dress.

For the love of all that’s holy, please ignore my hair in these photos. It’s in that horrible too-short-to-get-it-cut, too-long-to-sit-properly stage.

The Interview Clothes

Complete outfit: shoes, dress, belt (you can’t see the belt), and jacket.

Shoes, dress and Obi-belt.

Shoes, and dress without belt.

And, just for the fun of it? A booty shot. If I didn’t have the belly in front, I’d be a Kardashian with an ass like that.

Now, the important question is: should I wear the dress with or without the belt? While I like the fact that the belt’s covering over the join between the skirt and the shirt, when the belt’s not on, the shirt’s got that lovely floaty-looking look to it.

And the shoes? I love the shoes, but: should I take my basic black heels and change into them before I go in? Just because, y’know. Heels. They’re not, like, crazy-high heels. They’re pointy-toed, maybe 2.5″-3″ high. If these shoes were black, I’d stay with these ones. But because they’re nude, it kind of just makes it look like I’m barefoot.

So yes.

I have a job interview.

I’m kind of panicking.

I’m kind of excited.

And of course there’s also the: what the hell do I do when I get to the second interview?! I’m gonna have to come up with a second outfit…

And of course, if I get the job, what the hell am I going to do if they try to find a uniform for me?

The job’s for a parking attendant at a car park in town. It’ll require a full uniform. I’m almost having panic attacks at the idea of them not being able to get a uniform to fit me, and I’ve not even had my first interview yet.