Just call me q

A woman contemplating life, incognito

I Love Ballet…


cartoon picture ballet shoes

I love to watch ballet. The grace, the poise, the elegance of the dancers; it’s so mesmerizing. But anything that involves me moving, well… then you can count me out. Yes, because movement means being noticed; movement means all eyes on you; movement means  every part of your physique being scrutinized, assessed and critiqued and I absolutely hate the thought of that. Make me the centre of attention and I freeze; I become conscious of every molecule in my body.

Are they too red? (My cheek molecules.) Are they in the right place? (My hair molecules.) Are they strong enough to hold in quite a large amount of liquid? (My bladder molecules.) It’s exhausting, I tell you. Simply exhausting.

embarrassing molecules cartoon picture

And as for getting me up on the stage? Never. Me in a tutu with a spotlight trained on me? You must be joking. Looking all serene and floaty in front of hundreds of people? Not in a million years, my friend. Oh, and then on top of all that you expect me to move? I’m sorry, but it’s just not gonna happen. No, I’m serious; my molecules simply wouldn’t allow it; they’d go rigid. In fact, you could probably tuck me under your arm after the last act and carry me off horizontally  ‘cos my body would be that stiff.

cartoon picture carrying someone horizontally under arm

But like I just said, that’s not going to happen. So I can book tickets to see Swan lake or The Nutcracker or some other suitably seasonal performance safe in the knowledge that I will be in a seat… and not moving. But just in case they decide to haul someone up from the audience (yes, alright, it’s not Panto but you never know) I think I’ll book the back row. I’d feel a heck of a lot safer.

cartoon picture of a stage

10 Valid Reasons Why I Choose Not To Exercise Today


cartoon spider

1 – There’s a spider in the corner of my bedroom and I won’t be able to concentrate on my star-jumps.

2 – I noticed – when I bent down to take my tights off – that my toenails need cutting.

3 – I’m wearing a cape. It’s going to be tricky… especially the roly-polys.

4 – When I look at myself in the mirror, without my glasses on and in semi-darkness, I don’t actually look that bad. (Admittedly, I am still wearing the cape.) 

 5 – I ate two custard doughnuts and a box of Maltesers last night and I know I’m gonna do the same tonight so what’s the point?

6 – I’ve got three episodes of The Apprentice to catch up on.

7 – I’m cold.

8 – I’m tired.

9 – I’m hungry. (Is it too early for a doughnut?) 

10 – I just lay on the floor ready to start my ‘floor warm-up’ and all the bones in my spine clicked into place and that is enough.


bones in spine cartoon

I Am Staying Indoors Until Someone Invents A Pair Of Slippery Woolly Tights



I’d like to say that I welcome each coming season equally and with open arms… but I don’t. Because, you see, whereas Spring makes me zing,


spring flowers grape hyacinths daffodils cartoon


Summer makes me smile (and, admittedly, sweat)


sweating in the summer sun cartoon


and Winter is just wonderful


cartoon snowman in snow globe


– autumn, for me, is just a complete nightmare.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I rejoice in the changing colours of the falling leaves,


cartoon tree in autumn


I relish the wind whipping through my (already messy) hair


messy hair in the wind cartoon


and I love to watch with wonder as the squirrels sprint around collecting nuts for winter


squirrel pushing an acorn in a trolley cartoon



how can I be expected to put one foot outside my front door when – thanks to my very warm and fashionable (but very rough and fuzzy) woolly tights – my A-line skirt insists on riding half way up my legs* to reveal the chubbiest set of knees this side of the Northern hemisphere BEFORE I’VE EVEN MADE IT TO THE END OF MY DRIVE?


chubby knees in woolly tights cartoon queline justcallmeq Q


Exactly. I can’t. And so that is why I am staying indoors until someone invents a pair of slippery woolly tights.


woolly tights and chubby knees cartoon



*And, yes, the legs still look like root vegetables. Thankyou for asking.

Help! I’m having a breakdown – a collagen breakdown



collagen breakdown ageing aging wrinkles crepey crepy saggy skin justcallmeq Q queline


The other night I had a dream and this how it went:


Me: Doc, can you help me? I think I’m having a breakdown.

Doc: Okay, Q. Talk me through your symptoms, why don’t you?

Me: Well, alright.

1) My skin is really dry and I seem to have way more wrinkles than I used to,

2) my legs have lost their muscle definition and my knees are beginning to sag,

3) the skin on my upper arm has lost its elasticity and is beginning to look all crepey and (last one, Doc, and I’m done)

4) it’s getting thinner in all the wrong places (and by that I mean everywhere except for my butt).

Doc: Now, look. Let me stop you right there! These are not the signs of a person experiencing a decline in their…  Ugghhh! Just STOP wasting my time, will you, and get OUT of my office RIGHT NOW!

Me: No, no, Doc. I think there’s been a misunderstanding… I’m having a collagen breakdown.

Doc: OUT!!

collagen breakdown wrinkles saggy crey crepey skin agin ageing justcallmeq Q queline


Actually, I didn’t dream this but I’ve been having a few problems with my skin of late and… I know that the break down of collagen is an unavoidable part of the aging process and… I know that we all have to age but I swear that – some – days I can almost see myself decomposing. Oh, where, oh, where will it end? 

Silly question!

collagen breakdown justcallmeq Q queline cartoon coffin



What the cluck! I’m turning into a chicken…




I’ve got these horrible little bumps all over my arms and my legs that make me look like a freshly plucked bird – and I don’t mean of the tweezered female lady-girl-woman kind.

And, okay, I know I shouldn’t be too worried about them because I’ve had them for years, and I know exactly what they are (they’re a skin condition called keratosis pilaris), but – for some strange reason – they seem to be getting worse and I don’t know why.


keratosis pilaris chicken skin ingrowing hair follicles justcallmeq Q queline

My keratosis pilaris! I know it’s not Christmas but I put it inside a bauble. I thought it best.


Could it be that I’m lacking in some kind of vitamin or nutrient maybe? (Mmm, a possibility…)

Am I eating too much of something? (Apart from cake… Please God, don’t make it be cake.)

Or perhaps it’s because my body hasn’t seen a flannel/scrubbing mitt/dry-skin brush for the best part of three decades. (No. That’s far too simple. It couldn’t possibly be that.)

Ah. I know what it is! It’s because I am, in fact, turning into a chicken.


ex-battery chicken Semi Floppy Fork Pam BHWT backyard hen justcallmeq Q queline

This chicken has been heavily disguised to protect its identity.


Yes. Yes. I knew that if I thought about it logically I’d get there in the end. Ahhh, great. Well, that’s sorted then, isn’t it? I can carry on living my life.

No, wait.

What if someone tries to stick an onion up my bottom and roast me on Gas mark 5?


roast chicken keratosis pilaris justcallmeq Q queline chicken skin ingrowing hair follicles


Oh, cluck! I hadn’t thought of that.

I think it’s time I started an exfoliating regime.


It’s not easy having the lower limbs of a root vegetable…



Imagine a torso sitting ‘atop two parsnips…

Well, that’s me.

thick thighs big botty root vegetable legs thigh cellulite justcallmeq Q queline


I have the most incredibly spindly ankles but – as you work your way up my legs – they widen out continuously until – BOOM!!! (thick thighs) – they’ve more than quadrupled in size. In fact,  if I were mathematical (which I’m not), I’d have to say that you’d be looking at a ratio of at least 6:1. (No, really.)

And it’s annoying because people who don’t know me tend to think that, because of my cocktail stick-like ankles* (and because I hide my botty so well), I’m skinny all over… but I’m not!

flamingo justcallmeq Q queline


They don’t realize that, underneath my (carefully selected) clothing, hide



thick thighs root vegetable legs justcallmeq Q queline


Actually, I’ve jazzed them up a little bit too much. Underneath my (carefully selected) clothing hide



thick thighs root vegetable legs justcallmeq Q queline


Actually, I confess, I haven’t jazzed them up at all. If you look very closely at the piccy above you will see that – instead of my pins – I have, in fact, substituted a couple of real parsnips. (No, look closely… I have.)

And, sadly, as a result of being the unfortunate owner of a pair of pastinaca sativas (as they say in latin), I find that following fashion is nigh on impossible.

Patterned tights, for example, are out: the distortion of the stretched fabric once past the knees? (Say no more.)

Leggings, jeggings or any other type of lower-body clothing with lycra in it are out too. The ‘give’ in the material is… what can I say? – truly unforgiving.

And as for flares, well, because it’s practically impossible to predict when their endless yards of material are going to billow and wrap themselves around the most bizarrely disproportionate and, quite frankly, freakiest-looking part of my body (thus accentuating the problem), I can never truly relax in them.

So, yes, ummm… forgive me if I say it again – won’t you? – but… it’s not easy having the lower limbs of root vegetable. 


*Sorry, I couldn’t find a cocktail stick so I had to use a plastic flamingo pick instead. I would absolutely   love to have legs shaped like a plastic flamingo stick… but without the bird at the top, obvs.



Dear Twitter, I am (temporarily) leaving you…


My Dearest Darling Twitter,

It is with heavy heart and deep regret that I have to inform you… I am (temporarily) leaving you.

We seem to have been spending an inordinate amount of time together recently; so much so that everything else has gone by the wayside.

My chickens are having to collect their own eggs. (Yes, Twitter, you didn’t know that I kept hens, did you? No, well, they’re ex-batts and they’re great and I’ll tell you about them some time.)

Twitter ex-battery chickens bhwt Floppy Semi Fork Pam backyard hens justcallmeq Q queline


The cat thinks I’ve died; it’s been so long since she’s been fed.


Twitter cat justcallmeq Q queline


And my house is so disgustingly messy that it required a good ten minutes, the other morning, persuading the postman that I hadn’t been burgled (and I’m not sure he quite believed me even then).

But, dear Twitter, my dad coming round…

seeing my wet-suit hanging up in the utility room…

and saying “why is it so distorted?” is the main reason that I am (temporarily) leaving you.


Twitter big botty bottom bodyboarding justcallmeq Q queline


Yes, because I have exactly two weeks to reduce the size of my backside before I go body-boarding in Cornwall. Please wish me luck. I think I’m going to need it.

Yours truly

Q xxx

Me and my big botty



It’s no good! I can’t (A-line) skirt around the issue any longer… I have a big botty; a big, round, white, soft, squishy one.

And I know that I should embrace it because we’re in the moment’ of the bountiful booty (think Kim Kardashian, think Iggy Azalea, think Beyonce) but I can’t – partly because I don’t want to and partly because it’s behind me… so I can’t reach.

So I’ve been sat here sitting on my plump, pillowy posterior wondering… what exactly should I do about it?

Should I ignore it perhaps – pretend it’s not there?

Or should I find ways of making my mahoosive ‘mother of a mountain range’ a might less visible?

I know what I’ll do… I’ll write down some of the tricks that I’ve employed in the past, and then I’ll see if I can come up with any ways to improve upon them in the future. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Okay, so here goes:

In the past:

1) I’ve worn dark colours on my lower half.


big botty bottom justcallmeq Q queline A-line skirt


(I think that this could only be improved upon if I were able to get hold of some of that paint that NASA uses on its stealth bombers, you know, to make them invisible..?)

2) I’ve worn long length cardys/jumpers.

(Which has been fine in the winter months but utterly unbearable in summer, so there is some room for improvement with this one, I feel.)

3) I’ve refused to wear leggings.

(And I’m sorry but I will continue to give them a wide berth until someone can come up with a stretch fabric that doesn’t give me a wide berth.)

3) I’ve tried going last in queues so that no-one gets to see the back of me (which has made shopping trips a complete nightmare as you can imagine and is virtually impossible in this age of 24 hour opening that we live in).

(I could ‘get with the times,’ I suppose… shop online and have my food delivered?)

4) I have actively sought out walls to back up against so that (as above) no-one gets to see the back of me.


big botty bottom justcallmeq Q queline


(This one has only ever worked in mazes so I don’t know why I put that one.)

and finally

5) I’ve avoided any ‘high-viz’ activities such as bowling, jogging, swimming (other than back-stroke, of course), cycling, dancing, running and walking. Come to think of it, I’ve avoided any activity ending in the word ‘ing’… including living.

Oh, my goodness. I’ve just re-read that last bit and… how sad.

I can see now that I’ve let my bottom dictate my whole life. How limiting is that? I simply must learn to embrace it before it’s too late. I must, I must, and I will… right after I’ve given NASA a quick ring to see if they’ve got any of that paint going spare.


nasa big botty bottom justcallmeq Q queline


My second post: Just a quick Woo-hoo, perhaps? Ok. Maybe not…


Good morning, brave, anonymous and slightly worried me.

Did I give too much away the other night? Oh, I do hope not. I can’t have anyone knowing where my ’emergency’ biscuits are; I simply can’t. I mean, what if a real-life situation requiring instant sugar were ever to occur? How would I survive without my oat crumblies? How?

Waaahhh! Why am I even thinking about my crumblies? I should be panicking about concentrating on staying under the radar so that I can just write whatever I want to write.

But what if people recognize the big botty, horrid hair and terrible trotters combo and decide to ‘out’ me?


big botty justcallmeq Q queline

Big botty

messy hair justcallmeq Q queline

Horrid hair

terrible trotters flat feet justcallmeq Q queline

Terrible trotters

Oh, piggy poo poo’s. I can’t let my insecurities ruin it for me – I just can’t. Tomorrow, I write the first thing that comes into my head and we’ll take it from there.


My first post! Wooh-hooooo…



cake blogging queline justcallmeq Q


Ah, that’s it. The hard part’s over. Now that I have my very own space on the worldwide web – where I can anonymously jot down any little thoughts that pop into my head – I can relax. Yes, because no-one knows this is me; no-one knows that I’m here, and no-one is going to come up to me tomorrow morning and say:

1) do you really think about cellulite 15-20 times a day?

2) does your mum mind that you get all your self-help and ‘weirdy’ books delivered to her house and that the postman thinks she’s nuts?


3) why do you keep ’emergency’ biscuits in the tumble dryer and, more importantly, WHAT EXACTLY CONSTITUTES AN EMERGENCY?


justcallmeq Q queline



Ahh, this is great, this is. I can say what I like…

Oh, alright then, I will!

“I have a huge bottom.” (Boy, that feels good.)


big botty justcallmeq Q queline


“My feet are flat and I have ginormously big big toes.” (Wait a mo, will you, while I punch the air with my fist?) Done.

“I have rubbish hair, my eyes don’t work, my thighs undulate and I have a cake addiction so severe that I could probably do with a stint in rehab.”

YEAH! This is just so liberating. I don’t know why I didn’t start a blog years ago. Oh, well. Never mind. I’ve started now and that’s what counts.

Goodnight brave anonymous me. Xx