I am feeling antsy. Can’t sit still and watch tv, feels like such a waste of time so I’m watching TV and blogging… it feels less wasteful…

The crew came over to watch Idol and eat Pavlova last night… well, at least some of the crew.. The usual suspects… Skeet, Surf and Mac. Not sure if I have introduced Mac before, she, like Skeet, is a former flatmate. The three of us go back the furthest in my Australian Circle of Friends. We willingly handed our numbers to Hollywood again and watched Love Actually. Our excuse is that Surf hadn’t seen it.

I am back on the wagon… the food discipline wagon…

Day One… too scared to stand on the scales… will give it a couple of weeks first.

The Song in My Head in the Morning:The Prayer:Anthony Callea (you should have seen it… (Idol) Unbelievable performance…)

It has been another stunning Sydney day… all trace of rain has gone and I spent the afternoon at Palm Beach…

Sigh… way too gorgeous…

Have refined the plan for tomorrow to exclude travelling long distances… Too much risk of getting caught out misbehaving on the roads and losing double demerits quite apart from a desire to avoid traffic getting back into the city…

So tomorrow is a blank page… anything could happen….

Anyway, it’s late and I’m heading for bed…

By the looks of things it is going to be a rather wet weekend. I like the sound of that, the perfect opportunity to sit at home, watch chick flicks from the sofa and eat popcorn (or the rest of the homemade butterscotch on the kitchen bench.

Of course I wont be vegetating all weekend because, before I knew it was going to be a wet one I booked the whole thing up. *mild grumble*

Actually, it might not be all bad… I am spending the whole day tomorrow at a singing workshop as hosted by these rather clever people The Idea of North. I spent 3 years learning to sing at a performing arts college and since then rather got the stuffing knocked out of me at work… Don’t ask how work can undermine your confidence as a singer… it is all a bit too dull.

Anyway, I haven’t sung in public for more than 18 months with one or two exceptions and I decided that it would be lovely to just go and sing for fun rather than get all tangled up in the worshipping God kind of singing I have been used to. (Lovely though that is as well… of course)

So, that is tomorrow accounted for with an evening of sitting on babies to pay for the workshop.

Sunday I have a picnic at this beach* all planned out but no cunning plan in case or rain… I am going with Bet and she is coming to church again with me afterwards… so need to think of a plan B… Maybe the movies… I still haven’t seen this… so that could become an option.

The cherry on the top is that Monday is a Public Holiday!!! Hoo Ray

Might go for a long drive to the Blue Mountains or the Hunter Valley or even the Southern Highlands for Tulip Time. Of course, if the weather stays lousy Monday will be the stay on the sofa with the DVD remote day…

*This beach is actually called Palm Beach… not Summer Bay and is loooong and gorgeous… and expensive to park at… but does anyone have a favourite autograph they would like me to get from a cast member should one be lurking around? (I’m serious actually – celebs at Palmy are not an unusual sight!)

In fact… I think it is going to be rather a good weekend all round!!!

BTW – have any of you tried speed dating??? Got any stories??? I am wondering if it might be a good place to get inspiration for this blog… Anyone? (*whispers* You don’t have to leave your name…)

I think one of the biggest strikes us Singular Girls level against ourselves is a dissatisfaction with our physical appearance. We see ourselves as either too thin, too fat, too short, too tall. We have no boobs, no bum, or too much of either or both.

The mental and physical energy required to do something about these issues, not to mention the dollars or the painful operating procedures are often mentally of physically or financially out of reach and quite frankly we hear too much about the fact that our friends who have succumbed to the knife or the peels or the suction still come away dissatisfied…

We are held to ransom by Cosmo, Cleo, (and Playboy and Penthouse) and we lock ourselves in our rooms wholly convinced that no one out there will ever be able to look at us and feel any kind of interest at all.

I have probably said in the past that I am 36 and comfortably upholstered … not in the sense of being unable to buy clothes off the rack. (Though I hate shopping with a passion – largely due to the difficulty finding clothes to fit my frame and flatter me…). I have a Gardner’s Bottom… That’s a family joke but something my mother passed on from her side of the family… I have a tiny waist, and while my bosom is disproportionate to my hips it is still of magnificent dimension. (Ask the colleague who can’t look me in the eye when he talks to me!!! I actually almost feel I have to crouch to look him in the eye … AND he isn’t shorter than me…)

The thing is, I AM dissatisfied with my shape… I could do something about it. I have done before… and will do again.. but the thing is, I am not going to allow that to get in the way of the rest of my life.

I am valuable not because of the way I look. The truth is I am not even valuable because of all the stuff I can do… It’s true.. I can do a lot of things what I do and what I could do if I felt inspired enough doesn’t define me.

Personally, I get my value because I believe that God considers me valuable. Yep.. God, the one the Bible talks about.

In this day and age to believe such a thing may be a bit controversial, a bit old fashioned, a bit weak and feeble. It may please some to level that accusation at me, but for the whole God thing to be able to get me to a place where I am comfortable with me makes it of infinite value to me – quite apart from all the other reasons that make me choose to believe. Regardless of how such a belief is perceived by someone on the other side of Christianity.

Comfortable with me, valuable in my own eyes (because of way the eyes of God sees me) is something that actually makes me a whole lot more attractive than a size 10, 12, 14 frame.

Ask YGM2! He found me attractive … Bummer that I didn’t reciprocate really. Actually, the guys I find attractive aren’t the ones who look like Brad or Tom, but the ones who are comfortable in their own skin as well… Who would have thought???!!!!

*This post was inspired by Julia over at Tequila Mockingbird another woman comfortable in her own frame!