Okay, okay. You all know I’ve blogged about #dietgame before. I have attempted being good (I know, I know. I’m evil, and nothing is going to change that!), motivation, la la la, you name it.
#dietgame always fizzles out somewhere around the third or fourth week. Usually it’s down to me and one other person, and the last round was won by default. The round before that was won by someone who was an honorary participant.
You get the idea.
Now, it’s personal.
This round is between me and Skyla Dawn Cameron. We’re meeting up in September, and there will be drinking. There will be calories.
There better damned well be room in my fucking jeans.
Skyla wants to wear her hot jean skirt when we go
terrorize the villagers out on the town, so she’s got a goal, too.
So! In order to make that happen, we need to make with the #dietgame.
This isn’t just any #dietgame, though.
This is the #dietgameofDOOM. This is the Smackdown of Malice. The Clash of Eviltry.
This is high-stakes. Whomever does not meet their stated goal by Monday, September 26 has to do something awful. Something despicable.
Something utterly, utterly horrifying.
They have to lip-synch, on video, Heart’s “All I Wanna Do (Is Make Love To You)” to a picture of Orlando Bloom as Legolas from the Lord of the Rings film.
The video will be posted to both mine and Skyla’s YouTube accounts, then Twittered and Facebooked for maximum humiliation coverage. (Skyla has also added that if I’m the loser, I have to do the video dressed as a Mundane. No Gothic Goddess. I will honor this. If she loses, she has to read a page of Twilight and then edit it.)
ETA: The wager has been updated to include additional penalties and rewards.
Penalties: If we BOTH fail to meet our goal, we have to watch
the sparkly daywalking douchebag Twilight. COMPLETELY SOBER. All the way through.
Rewards: We’ve decided to both save up $5-10 a week until deadline. If we BOTH meet our goals, we’re each buying ourselves something nice. I’ve chosen some expensive teas, and Skyla has chosen a very pretty dress. If we both fail to meet our goals, the money goes back to the household budget.
So there you are. My goal = lose 20# by September 26. That’s 12 weeks away as of Monday. There are no rules. We just have to meet our stated goals by the deadline.
Shouldn’t be too hard, right? I mean, we’re writers. We meet deadlines all the time.
The #tauntage has already begun on Twitter. #dietgameofDoom is your searchable hashtag if you’re interested in following weekly (or maybe more) updates and tauntage. There hasn’t been any division into #TeamDina and #TeamSkyla yet, but I’m sure there will be. I recommend supporting #TeamSkyla. She’s going to need all the help and support she can get. I work best under pressure, and alone.
What? I’m evil!
Oh, hello inappropriate cravings. You’re here already? Didn’t waste any time showing up, did you? Oh, I know what you are, now. You’re my fat cells rebelling. You know, don’t you, adipose tissue, that you’re about to shrink. That you’re marked for death. I’m going to drain the life right out of you, stored energy.
Scream all you want. You go to Hell.
YOU GO TO HELL AND YOU DIE!
Here’s Skyla’s take on the subject, copied and pasted directly with permission from her blog:
The reason, basically, is that I spent a year with a nutritionist so I already eat regular meals of nutrient-rich food, and I’ve finally reached a point where I feel good about my relationship with food, so I don’t want to muck it up.
The other reason is that I’ve been eating a primarily vegan diet for six months (I still get free range local eggs and eat dairy when I’m out and can’t find vegan meals). It turns out…I actually can’t cut calories. I’m 5’11” and even with few physical activities, I need more calories than the average person, yet I tend to get around 1500 – 1700 a day now. Dina’s after me to get in MORE calories.
So what’s my problem? Exercise.
I used to walk 1 – 2 hrs a day for work but now I work solely from home…which means I get up, sit at the computer, work all day, and then continue sitting at the computer to write at night. I tried jogging and got myself up to a mile a day before I got really sick in January; it took several weeks to recover and then I never got back on the horse. I do about 40 min of walking a day now and it’s not enough. I can’t currently do up my favourite skirt, which I could wear last year.
(This is the skirt. I look equally awesome in it as it’s made for tall chicks with hourglass figures.)
I’m not setting a weight goal because I don’t believe in that for me (and my cat slept on my scale and broke it anyway). I believe that your body knows what its ideal weight is, and it finds that by 1. Eating foods you enjoy that make you feel good, in amounts that feel right, and 2. Doing exercises you enjoy in amounts that leave you feeling good. I know I’m not holding up the second half of that equation, so this is why I’m playing along.
I NEED to wear that motherfucking skirt; I can’t buy it in a size up because it’s not made anymore, and I can’t buy a different one because it’s hard to get them long enough for me. Also? If I don’t fit in the skirt by late September, the consequences could be dire.
So I have my exercise regime.
I have my goal.
I have my St. Expedite medallion to stomp out procrastination.
I have my theme song(s).
Let it begin.