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other.
    And maybe it would be good. Maybe this diet would be the one that provided the magic key that unlocked the secret of losing ten kilos. This time it just might work.
    “Ok, well, must fly, my yoga class up at the gym starts in an hour.”
    “Sure, talk soon then Mum, love you.”
    “Love you too Darling.”
    And she hung up. I imagined her whizzing around the house on her designer high heels getting ready for her yoga class. She went to the most exclusive women-only gym on the Gold Coast, one that let it’s well-shod clients not only leave their toddlers at the inhouse creche but also leave their spoilt pooches at the inhouse kennel. It was a testament to the clientele that the creche was usually empty while the kennel was permanently stuffed with dogs of every description, all wearing designer collars from Dogue, the store that did high fashion for canines.
    Mum never went anywhere without Triska, her tiny, pure white pekinese. Despite being spoilt rotten, Triska was the sweetest little dog. I teased Mum that she was a replacement grandchild and it was probably true.
    Over the years Mum and Joseph had risen up the social ladder on the Gold Coast and now were like minor royalty. They had made a fortune in clever property investment plus a sideline in swimming pool installation. Their latest business was a chain of surf schools up the coast to satisfy the never-ending demand from tourists and travellers wanting to learn how to ‘catch a wave’.
    With financial success well under their belts, they were now looking for new challenges and Joseph had recently launched a campaign to run for local government. Mum, on the other hand, used her power for good through lobbying -- not to mention bribing when necessary -- the local government members who were already in power.
    Her heart was in the right place though, she was a strong and vocal supporter of environmental issues and animal rights. She’d virtually singlehandedly saved a rare species of tree frog by campaigning against the construction of a highway through the one area where the frogs still lived. But, rather than chain herself to a tree, as was the usual modus operandi of green activists, she had entertained, charmed and seduced -- platonically speaking of course -- the local councillor in charge of making a decision on the highway.
    She says it was her brandy and dark chocolate trifle that won the day and saved the frogs. As the final attack in her plan of action, Mum had thrown yet another dinner for the councillor, Tom Beveridge, and his wife Yvonne. After Tom’s seventh glass of port, specially imported from Portugal, a large crystal bowl of Mum’s famous trifle and some gentle flirting, she says he would’ve left his wife and eloped with her to Slovenia if she’d suggested it.
    The frogs were saved.

Chapter 5: Food as a Drug
     
    Dear Darla,
    Sometimes during sex I just want it to be over and I know I’m not going to orgasm so I fake it. Is that really bad?

Lindsay, Tasmania
     
    Dear Lindsay,
    In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have to fake it. You wouldn’t have to lie about something that is at the very heart of the most intimate act two people can share. But, lets get real about it shall we Lindsay, the truth is that orgasms have been faked by millions of women for millions of reasons ever since the human race took its first breath all those centuries ago. Maybe you don’t want to hurt his feelings, or you want to finish up in time to watch the Sunday night movie, or you don’t want him to think you’re frigid…the list is endless. Personally, I think if you fake it once in a while, big hairy deal. Put it in the same basket as lying about the price of those shoes and keeping Mars Bars hidden in your car for sneaky treats. But if you’re faking all the time, that’s a problem because you’re denying yourself a wonderful and satisfying sex life. If that’s the case, your next question is whether it’s him, you, or a bit of both? Is he