Bring it, December!

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone, mine possibly faster than everyone else's. I visited my great aunt in Corona for our "dinner" at 2:15 in the afternoon. Afterward, we came back to her house, where we looked through photos she showed me last time (but I had to pretend to be seeing them for the first), and she asked about my trip to Europe. I almost made it through the first sentence when she cut me off and escorted me out the door. "It was nice to see you," she said, as the screen door slammed in my face. I was home by 3:30p.m.

With a little bit of cheer and a lot of wine, I managed to make it through the rest of the night. Besides, I have two thesis papers I should be writing, but instead, I have been doing everything except writing. For instance, I'm updating this journal even though I convinced myself I could write nothing at the moment. By Friday, I was listening to the Carpenters and enjoying the beginning of the holiday season. Saturday, I baked cookies from scratch and had a lovely dinner of Kraft macaroni and cheese with Tyson chicken nuggets and red wine. After dinner, I ended the evening with a lovely night at the theater, enjoying a peaceful tragedy, "Spring Awakening".

For the past month or longer, I have been consistently also going to the gym every night. In comparison, I look a lot better, but I've only been comparing myself to the naked photos of Vanessa Hudgens that have been plaguing the internet for the past few years. Those are really great for your self-esteem, by the by. Anywho, after polishing off another bottle of red wine (it's supposed to be good for you to saturate yourself with red wine every night, according to WebMD!!), I ventured to the gym. Big mistake. My dream of working out came to a sad and sudden end when I found myself crying on the floor in front of an ever-running treadmill. I don't really know how it happened, but I'm almost certain all those slapping of buttons and cursing didn't help any, and the dancers in the other room who did nothing but stare - well, that didn't make matters any better, and I may have said a few things that will eventually air on COPs.

I now find myself lying in bed, after a soothing bath that nearly drowned me, contemplating the two weeks I have left of my first full-time graduate semester and doing anything I can not to write any more papers, though my continuing education depends on them. But really, what can one do?

The moral of this story? I may have bought some more Activia at the grocery store yesterday, and it may be hormonal mood swings brought on by this vagina yoghurt that rendered me an unstable mess, as opposed to the seven, large glasses of red wine I siphoned before heading to the gym. The world may never know.

November, What?!

November, where did you come from, and why hasn't this blog updated itself?!

For the past few weeks I have been busy with graduate school (I had two or three two-hour presentations to give) and writing angry letters to just about everyone I could think of. Normally I don't have such rage (you shut your mouth, Erin!), but I was inspired when I was watching a pre-recorded episode of Family Guy on TV about a week or two ago and noticed an Activia commercial in which there was no Jamie Lee Curtis. My mission had been accomplished. Through this triumphant victory I was able to muster the courage to write letters to such companies as Barnes & Noble, regarding an incorrigible salesman who followed me around the music section until I left, and Pottery Barn (they know what they did!).

All this angry letter writing has left me drained and unenthused about creatively writing in this here journal. That is, however, until today. You might wonder, "What will he talk about today?" or "What gems of wisdom does he have for us?" The answer is simple: I have nothing to talk about, so put that in your turkey and stuff it. I do, though, have a new cell phone, with which I plan to take more pictures and upload to this blog, thereby making it more "child friendly". If you don't have children to read this blog to, I suggest volunteering to read aloud to dying children at your local hospital, pound, or dump - or wherever you take/leave them. Or you could just steal a child. I find kindergartens, city parks, or Disneyland provides a nice selection from which to choose.

Until I Write Again,

Brandon

A Second Draft is Better Than a Backdraft

To One Ms. Jamie Lee Curtis:

Despite your declining career, I wanted to believe you. I trusted you and your high-fallutin yoghurt deliverance, which were nothing more than lies. You lied to me, you lied to my family, and you lied to countless middle-aged women who have nothing better to do than watch television during the middle of the day and view your Activia commercials, which are conveniently interspersed between soap opera segments.

Your empty promises have caused me grief, despair, and diarrhea (well, that may just be my lactose intolerance, but still, I blame you). It was merely last month when I decided to take you up on your "Acitivia challenge" and enter myself in a 5k run, which the yoghurt that pays your salary single-handedly sabotaged by bolstering my immune system and then suddenly dropping my health to below-zero numbers.

I ate and ate and ate and ate and ate your yoghurt, but little did you share with us that suddenly stopping this challenge may, in fact, impede one's health tremendously, and I found myself bed-ridden for two weeks. TWO WEEKS. I did still, however, attempt to run this 5k race but was unable to because I slept through my alarm. How is this related to your fallacy of yoghurt goodness? Simple: You promised me great things, Ms. Curtis, and you failed to deliver.

Certainly I hope the only roles you have coming your way consist of Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2 - 5 and that you are downgraded from yoghurt commercials dealing with irregularity to commercials on incontinence, and you wouldn't want to give those people false promises, now would you?

My only hope is that you may find a way to monetarily rectify this situation before it gets out of hand (I have friends in high places, Ms. Curtis). You can take your vagina yoghurt and stick it.

Incredibly Concerned,

Brandon K. Pfluger

I Need You Now

Here I am, at 4 o'clock in the morning, still thinking about you...

After a long hiatus, I decided it was time for a much due blog entry, but where to begin? Begin with the rest of your yoghurt trials, Brandon! I hear you say. Don't mind if I do.

What could be so mysterious that you left everyone hanging on days 8-14? I'll tell you what: a whole lot of yoghurt withdrawals. You see, the clever people at Activia have packaged their product in cartons of 8, leaving me stranded on day 9. By day 10, I had the shakes. You don't even want to know what it was like on days 11-14. But Brandon, why didn't you just go to the store and pick up another carton? You're just full of questions, aren't you? Had I done so, I would have been taking the 16-day challenge, and not the 14, as the packaging suggests. Why couldn't you just not eat the other two? Shut up.

Had I wanted to run to the store every time I needed yoghurt, I may as well have bought Go-gurt for busy people on the go, but they weren't offering a challenge. So now, here I lay in bed at close to 4a.m., a good almost two weeks since my last update, and I'm sick. Where are you now, yoghurt? Where are you now?!

The 5k is this Saturday, and I swear if I'm not good to go, I'm writing Jamie Lee Curtis a very stern letter, demanding an apology and an ample supply of 14 yoghurts. It's because of you, Activia, that I have had to change my mantra to: I attempted to finish my yoghurt and quite possibly may be too sick to run the race, but I'll definitely give it a shot and hope I don't drop dead!

What will happen this Saturday? Only time will tell...

14-Day Challenge: Day Seven

I woke up at the ungodly hour of 6a.m. today, eager to head to school and longing for my yoghurt. Unfortunately, since I am not as pleasant or coherent a person in the morning as I am starting at about noon or so, I made an awful faux pas when I mistook my mantra, "Finish my yoghurt and win the race!" for "Finnish my yoghurt and win the race," and topped off my peach Activia with pickled herring. Needless to say, my day was off to a terrible start.

It wasn't until my second serving of Lihapullat later that afternoon that I had even realized what I was doing. I finished the last of my meatball platter and continued to class. Will this heavy diet of Finnish food slow down my performance in the 5k? I'm afraid only time will tell ...

I will finish my yoghurt and win the race!

14-Day Challenge: Days 5 & 6

Day Five:

I awoke with my legs sore and my heart rearing to go, as I stepped into the kitchen and ate my Activia. Why my legs were exactly worn, I'll never know, but I can only assume it was from my muscles growing, as the yoghurt preps me for my 5K run on October 10th. I will finish my yoghurt and win the race! In any case, I showed off my newly-muscled legs by rocking my skinny jeans on Monday. I could feel people watching in awe as I strutted by.

"That's right, look at my legs. Ooh! Ow! I wish there weren't so sore, but I look good. Man! I look good ..." It's amazing what a pair of skinny jeans and a campus full of stares will do for your self-esteem. The gold medal is practically mine.

I will finish my yoghurt and win the race!

Day Six:

The soreness in my legs are gone. I'll just assume the yoghurt has fully developed all muscles that need developing.

After my breakfast of Activia and chewy granola bars, I went to COSTCO to pick up a few items and a barrel of protein powder, alongside a keg of Centrum vitamins. Like any upstanding citizen, I made my way through the aisles to whet my appetite with the endless, ENDLESS offerings of free samples. Don't mind if I do! However, in my process, I may have cheated on my challenge with a slender, more delicate "Gogurt". I knew I shouldn't have taken one as I reached for it, but the temptation was just too great. Finally, a yoghurt I didn't have to choke down. Filled with shame and great-tasting yoghurt, I immediately checked out and drove home.

How I can stand to face my vagina-loving yoghurt tomorrow, I'll never know. I just have to keep to my mantra: Finish my yoghurt and win the race!

14-Day Challenge: Day Three

Day three began as I awoke at the wee hour of noon on Sunday, September 20. I got up, brushed my teeth and ate my bowl of strawberries-n-cream oatmeal with my container of Activia yoghurt. I was ready to start my day.

Little did I know that although the stomach symptoms I had been experiencing seemed to vanish, they would reincarnate into verbal diarrhea. It is near the end of the day, and I haven't been able to regale anyone without several Freudian-esque bathroom-related word slips. What follows are just a few of the many shameful examples:

Ex 1) "re-crapped" instead of "recapped" : "She re-crapped the entire story to me in 30 minutes!"

Ex 2) "urine" instead of "yoghurt": Don't ask. Please.

I think for my own sanity, I shall end this day early and try once more on my trail to 14 days of yoghurt-eating tomorrow.

14-Day Challenge: Days One and Two

The Introduction:

Sure we have all scoffed at Jamie Lee Curtis as she bragged about how Activia has saved her irregular bowel movements and kept her from having a FUPA (fat upper-pussy area), but just how well does this wonder yoghurt work?

Whilst shopping at my local grocery store the other night, I walked past the dairy section (which I normally try to avoid, due to my recently-acquired intolerance for lactose (which coincidentally came around the same time as my intolerance for people wearing CROCS)), I couldn't help but notice the giant yellow labeling on the Activia yoghurts, daring me to take this so-called "14-Day Challenge". Well, I'm not the kind of guy who walks away from a duel, and I was practically slapped in the face by with a big heaping spoonful of live-culture yoghurt.

Now, the last challenge I have hurdled through would have been when I yelled at the postman for delivering mail to the wrong address. The yoghurt obviously had nothing to do with the United States Postal Service, so yelling at it got me nowhere. I had to think of a way to complete this challenge. I recently watched Julie & Julia, and though I may not have been impressed with the overall bland storyline, I figured I had learned a thing or two about publicly posting a personal challenge and/or goal that no one really cares about on a blog followed mainly by my mother (hi, Mom!).

The Challenge:

According to Mrs. Curtis, all I have to do to is eat one yoghurt a day for 14 days to gain regularity.

The Question(s):

Was I really irregular beforehand? Should I ask my Dr. about going on this crazy yoghurt binge now that my stomach can't handle dairy products? These are all valid points, but seeing as I don't have health insurance at the moment, they are also very expensive points I can't afford to have answered. We'll just see what "regular" is after 14 days. If I incur rectal bleeding, I'll be contacting your people, Jamie Lee (Ed. Note: Jamie Lee is not to be confused with Jamie Lynn, Britney Spears' younger, less crazy, but more sexually active sister.).

Day One:

I began my colloidal diet Friday, September 18. When I first opened the small container of yoghurt, the water had separated out. Not a good first look, if I do say so myself. After a few minutes of stirring with a spoon to see if the two elements would ever conjoin again, I took my first bite. It tasted like shredded, strawberry-flavored Chinese newspaper. After much consideration, I decided that, since this yoghurt was targeted mostly toward women, that they may have a different set of taste buds ... or maybe they just eat it with their vaginas. After many consultations with friends debating how women can stand to ingest such putrid-tasting gobbledy-goo, I continued eating. Nothing happened. What a gyp, I thought. I may as well try a 14-day challenge of prune juice. But no, I'm sticking with my vagina yoghurt.

Day two:

I began my morning with a little oatmeal and a peach Activia. This one seemed a bit more bearable, AND the water hadn't separated out of it. Though the taste was a little different(better?), still no real effects - until everything else I happened to put in my mouth for the day went right through me. Is this how you get rid of puffy stomachs, by not letting anything stay in your large intestine? I certainly hope being regular doesn't mean constant diarrhea.

What will happen on day three? Stay tuned and find out!