HA # 4- - Drink Water to Win

We’ve all heard it. Water is the most important aspect to dieting. You can’t lose weight if you don’t drink water. 8 glasses a day! Water boosts your metabolism. Water can travel through time! Water will summon a weight loss unicorn to sparkle-zap away your fat! DRINK WATER TO WIN!

I knew that all of these things were true.  So I decided that, starting today, I would drink 8 glasses of water. I would drink my daily ocean, and thinness would be all mine.

I filled my glass with ice, then filled it the brim with cool water. I couldn’t wait to drink it, because in reality, I really enjoy water. The problem is, when I start drinking other things more, I forget how awesome water is. 

To be sure I got my first glass in, I drank the whole thing down in a solo chugging contest which I won hands down.

For whatever reason, my cat was very confused and his meowing made it hard to focus. I choked a little bit, but I drank the whole glass. I set down the empty glass with a triumphant clink. One down, seven to go.  

I waited maybe ten minutes, and then drank an entire second glass of water, because I’d heard somewhere that drinking a glass of water before breakfast boosted your metabolism by 30%. That meant that my cereal would now only cost me 147 calories instead of 210….theoretically. And we all know how sound my theories are. VERY SOUND*.

After breakfast, I felt like I’d had more water than I did. I’d only had two glasses of water. It irritated me that my body was being such a pansy, and so, out of spite, I drank another glass of water.  I felt bloated, but SO DID MY EGO. I would win the water challenge, and my body couldn’t stop me. I DRANK ANOTHER GLASS OF WATER and shoved my victory in my own face.

Feeling like some distant cousin of the water balloon, I made my way to my room to try to exercise. I felt like I was very round, and that it would be a great idea to teach my dog how to roll me to my room.

But my dog wouldn’t roll me; he just came to sniff me and wag his butt around and proclaim to me his undying love. But he didn’t help me get to my room so I crawled.

After forcing myself to do a few crunches, I was hit with an overwhelming necessity to use the restroom. I waddled my way to the bathroom to relieve myself, feeling oddly proud that I’d had so much water and that I’d had to go so badly. I was overcome with a peculiar sensation of victory.

I went downstairs again and drank two more glasses of water, hoping to further my triumph, but I only furthered the sensation of being seconds away from popping into a bazillion Davy pieces. It was then that I got a phone call. I heard my phone ringing halfway across the room and reached out with my hand, hoping it would magically levitate its way into my grasp.

It did not, and I had to WALK across the room and answer it myself. It was my mom. We had a brief discussion about something…about..stuff, and then I told her I felt sick, and she asked why, and I told her water, and she told me not to be silly, that water doesn’t make you sick.

SO THEN I DRANK MORE WATER, MOM. I drank all eight of my daily glasses of water, and I was PROUD. Bloated, moaning, groaning and PROUD. The best part was, it was only the afternoon, I could still drink MORE water and win EXTRA.

When my mom got home, she asked me how I was feeling. “AWFUL AND SUCCESSFUL” was my triumphant response.

My mom picked up my empty glass on the counter. “Davy, how much water did you drink?” she asked.

“Eight glasses, like I’m supposed to.” I said, almost condescendingly. I bet she hadn’t had eight entire glasses of water today. She was probably jealous. She wanted her very own weight loss unicorn, but she would never have one.

 “Eight of thse glasses?” my mom questioned.

I paused. “Yeah, why?”

“These are sixteen ounce glasses.”

I’d drank 128 ounces of water, all in the span of a few hours.

That was the day I got double unicorns.

 ----

  If you liked this issue, I'd love it if you'd comment or follow! You don't have to, though =) This helps me know which blogs you guys liked best, and which you didn't, so I can base future blogs on what's the best!  I think you can also subscribe to be notified of new issues, but I'm not actually sure xD  

You can buy Sparkle-rainbow and double unicorn merchandise on my zazzle store! I'd be grateful for any support =) If I can make money, I'd like to work on making my own stuff.

http://www.zazzle.com/double_unicorns_button-145654535532081226

HA # 3 - My Theory

(Now that more people are reading this, I think I should give you all a warning. My blog is what is considered "Creative Non-Fiction. This means that my blogs are based on true stories, but many things will be exaggerated for entertainment purposes. So if I type something like "AND THEN I RAN TWENTY FIVE MILES", don't worry about me passing out, because I probably ran like half a mile. So just keep in mind that my blog is creative-non fiction and enjoy =)  )

 

 

 So I'm on Myfitness pal, reading about everyone and their friendships and their success and their associative-networkness, and I'm thinking that I should do that too! So I type up a little intro about why I want to lose weight, and why you should be my friend, expecting to get like.. a friend...who friends me out of pity. 

 

I get a reply! A see a little red "1" by my friends request and virtually prance my way to my requests page to happily greet my new friend.  

In half an hour, I had three new friends! I won't mention names for fear of offending, but I will spin a tale of our overwhelming friendship!

 

My first friend is very pretty. I remember seeing her hair and saying "I want your hair!" because it's really long and awesome. Her fiancé is really far away ): Mine is too! But that makes us friends! Yaay. We're going to get thin and wear bikinis and prance down the beach and watch as the entire men people bow before our shimmering splendor. (Okay, not really, I just want to go to the beach) 

 

My second friend is FAMOUS. Yes, that's right, be jealous, because you are reading the blog of a girl who is MFP friends with a FAMOUS GUY. I'll give you a hint. He's a plumber, he always wears a red hat, and he's Italian. We're going to get thin and SAVE THE MUSHROOM KINGDOM TOGETHER!

My third friend is apparently a cat. At least that's what she has as her picture. But she's very cute. We're going to be fit enough to escape the zombies when they come to eat our brains.

 

Those were my three new friends. When I made my new friends, I decided that I was going to write a blog to motivate myself, and in my intro thread I asked if people might want to read it. My famous friend and my pretty friend both commented on my blog and I was so happy! I was tired, though, and I headed off to bed.

 

I woke up this morning and logged on to MFP thinking "I bet at least one more person has read my blog"

 

I woke up to 70 votes, and 30 comments! On my blogs! I didn't understand why so many people liked my strewing of words across virtual paper, but they DID. My mundane life with my muffins and my Nazi Wii had garnered me a following, and I felt awesome. I imagined myself under glittering stars on a pedestal, signing "DavyHolly" on people's printouts of my blog. I was blogfamous. Not only that, but in my imagination I was thin, because so many people gave me awesome ideas in the comments. Dark cocoa almonds swirled about me like magic. The sweet sound of a blender making various smoothies sang a sweet symphony in the distance. 

 

 

I realized in that moment that my blog was my key to success. I couldn't let down all my new friends. I MUST BLOG OR NOT BE A GOOD FRIEND. I had a new life now, with friends and popularity, and I must preserve it at all costs.

 

After reading all of my comments, and thanking people for their encouragement, I went off to weigh myself.

 

I'd lost eight pounds.

 

My mind began to conjure up justifications for how I’d lost eight pounds in only a few days. Then it came to me. The well kept secret, the holy grail of weight loss.

 

*Deep inside my body, there are little fuzzballs that I have deemed "happies". These happies are much like white blood cells or anti-bodies, which attack bad things in your body. Happies are a type of cell, unannounced by science, that attack and maul the things that make you sad. Like fat cells. Happies lay dormant in your bloodstream, waiting for a signal from your heart that you are happy. Happiness signals the happies to destroy things that make you sad, in order to be sure that your joy is not terminated prematurely. 

With each comment on my blog, and each vote up, my new friends had unknowingly activated my happies, and they went on a fat decimating spree of terror. Of. Terror.

 

And that's how I lost 8 pounds.  

 

 

*This theory has not been evaluated by science or science people. It’s just my theory, and I can have it if I want to.

 

 

But, seriously, thank you all SO much who read and commented on my blog! It means so much to me, you guys have no idea. I hope you guys like this one, and all the ones in the fuuuture.

 

   If you liked this issue, I'd love it if you'd rate it! You don't have to, though =) It's the little arrowy-thing underneath. This helps me know which blogs you guys liked best, and which you didn't, so I can base future blogs on what's the best!  I think you can also subscribe to be notified of new issues, but I'm not actually sure xD But you can be my friend! And then you'll know. I love friends. 

 

 To be updated on future blogs, and to vote for future issues and be in on idea discussion, join the "Happies Activate!" group. =)  

Happies Activate # 2 - My Antagonistic Wii

So I'm riding through Kmart on one of those wheely-race-cart thingies, feeling like a hybrid of a biker-chic and an old granny, when I notice a Dance Dance Revolution game ON sale, controller INCLUDED. I make a u-turn, pleasantly surprised with the precision steering on my wheelycart, and find my mom. 

 

"MOM"

 

"Yeah...?"

 

"DDR!"

 

"Deedee are..?"

 

"The game, the dance game, it's on SALE. And I'm SERIOUS about losing weight this time!"

 

My pathetic puppy dog eyes peering into hers, I overdramatize my injury. "I just wish my leg would get better so I could exercise and be healthy, and live a long life for your future grandchildren!" I whine.  

 

She rolled her eyes, and I watched triumphantly as my prize was placed into the cart. I imagined myself, dancing with full style and flair, precisely executing each move as instructing by those calorie-burning rainbow arrows of weight loss glory. In my mind I was a sexy, dancing machine! 

 

But we all know that NOBODY dances in real life like they do in their heads. Unless they happen to imagine themselves dancing like a crippled, mutated penguin that really needs to use the restroom. Then maybe they'll live up to their imagination's expectations.

 

It took two days of waiting patiently*

 

(*Patiently: To sit about and whine your head off and roll around on the carpet saying "I just wanna daaaaance") 

 

for my leg to heal before I was in good enough shape to try out my new magical weight loss game. 

 

I plugged in my Wii, set up the pad, selected the game and!

 

....

 

No sound.

 

How in the name of Curious Freaking George am I supposed to play a DANCING game with no sound? With no sound, I would have no chance of being the hot, flexible, majestic dancing pro I so imagined myself to be! This was unacceptable.

 

I changed the inputs. I muted and unmuted my TV. I reset the Wii. I unplugged and plugged back in random things that were associated with various technologies within a five foot radius of my television. I yelled at my Wii to stop being a jerk. I apologized for calling my Wii a jerkface and asked it politely if it wouldn't mind functioning properly.

 

Then I realized that my stupid brain couldn't tell yellow and white apart, switched those two around and had DDR music blaring in my ear because I was leaning down near the TV to fix the cables.

 

However. Success was mine. It was time to burn a bazillion calories by BEING AWESOME.

 

I hurry and go through the menus, entering information, selecting characters, and choose "Bad Romance" by Lady GaGa, because it's fast and I love singing "BLAHBLAH OOOAAOAAOA!" along with her, pretending to be an eccentric pop-legend.

 

Well, I’m going along, doing fairly well! I only look exceptionally ridiculous when I have to step the left, then immediately to the right. It sort of looks like I’m mushing grapes with my feet to make wine. Or an angry monkey. But at least wine is cultured. So I'm a wine-squisher dancer. 

 

Anyway, I’m doing alright. Until I get to the "punches". You’re supposed to bring the Wiimote to your chest, then punch hard in the indicating direction. NO MATTER HOW HARD I PUNCHED, it wouldn't register. My beautiful combos were being broken by my Wii's incompetence!  I imagined that I was punching an animal abuser, which made me punch harder, but my Wii was not satisfied. I pretended like each punch was landing square on the jaw of whoever invented Math. But my Wii was not amused. I imagined punching Hitler in the face.

 

It was then I discovered that my Wii is a Nazi. 

 

 

 

Happies Activate # 1 - "Thr..mufns...n'..chlt..br..."

I am not new to the world of dieting. The dream of a small, healthy, bikini-fit me has eluded me ever since I stopped playing with My Little ponies and realized how incredibly awesome food was. 

 Well, every once in a while I realize that I'm twenty years old and I'm wasting my young, healthy years being overweight and not feeling attractice. I get it in my mind that I'll be the next hot thing! I'll wear cute clothes! I'll look good in jans! I'll wear a bikini to the beach and roll around in my sandy victory!

 So I set off to walmart with the mindset that i'll suddenly learn to love salad and bow at the feet of pita bread. Aaaand while i'm at it, I'll get a chocolate bar. It will be my treat for when I'm good.

 Wrong. I look in the fridge and my bagged salad is staring back at me saying "It's not fair, is it? It's not fair that you can eat as much of me as you want, but I don't taste good, but that chocolate bar will ruin your dreams" 

Stupid patronizing salad. I slam the fridge shut and go to the freezer where I keep my chcolate bar. If...I only eat a small piece, it'll be fine.

 Sure, Davy. Have you ever eaten a small piece of a chocolate bar? No. 

I ate the whole chocolate bar. So now I'm irritated at myself. I know I can't keep up that kind of thing unless I'm happy the way I am.  

 I decide to go to Safeway and get some "inbetween" groceries. The kind that tastes better than salad, but is better for me than a whole chocolate bar. 

 I'm browsing the aisles and suddenly, like an epiphany, shining like diamonds on their bakery rack, I see  package of almond poppyseed muffins. Sweet, sweet almond poppyseed muffins.  With my empty cart, I race toward the bakery as if it's on fire, and if I don't get there in time, I'll never have another muffin as long as I live. 

 I place the muffins in my cart and simply check out, thinking that I don't need anything else in the entire world. 

I ate three muffins. THREE MUFFINS. I still don't understand how i managed to eat three entire muffins. I don't even remember eating three muffins. But when I woke up the next day craving am uffin for breakfast, there was only one left.

 I ate that muffin too, then headed to the computer to enter my food log for the previous day. 

  I looked up how much my muffins cost me and was horrified to find that muffins were not the healthier cupcake alternative I had thought them to be. 700 calories. Per muffin. 

My day had consisted of three mufins and a chocolate bar. Imagine repeating that to your friends. "So what'd you eat today?"

 

........

 

You mumble as you glance around. "thr..mufns...n'..chlt...br..."

"What?"

"Three muffins and a chocolate bar..."

 

It makes you cringe to think about it!

 

Today I had a salad.