Back in college, my friends and I were really into making bets. No, we didn’t wager on sports, or horses, or even the Oscars. Nope, we wagered on each other. Who could hook up with a person first? (Kissing, not sex; we weren’t THAT bad). Who could last the longest during Drinking Uno? Drinking Jenga? The Hour of Power? The most shots? We made a drinking game out of the absolutely atrocious, yet infectious song, Whoomp, There It Is! You get the picture. But, since we were always broke, the bets were small. They usually involved humiliation rather than restitution. Once, they involved both and a truly stirring rendition of Denis Leary’s I’m An Asshole. No matter the end result, they were always inspiring. No one wanted to lose a bet. In fact, in my senior year, I accidentally dyed my very, very long hair jet black. I looked like I had a bad witch wig permanently affixed to my head. When I claimed it was a result of a bet, people just shook their heads at me.
Fast forward more years than I care to count and I am at a crossroads. I need motivation. I need a good old-fashioned bet to get me going. But this time, I need higher stakes. I’ve only got one guy to kiss, I can’t even smell tequila without shuddering, and if I tried to drink my way through Candyland I would find myself joining Sookie in Fairyland. What’s a fat woman to do?
So, I am calling on all my friends both old and new to help turn me from the Stay-Puft Marshmallow mom into Stacy’s Mom (has got it going on). Your goals do not have to be the same. I’d kill most of the women I know for their post-baby look, so think outside the body. What if you always wanted to write a book? Always wanted to scrapbook all of your family photos? Organize them (with names and dates)? Any task, as long as it is long and arduous is a good task.
Then, the sky is the limit on the bet. What have you always wanted but refused to buy for yourself? Try to win it in the bet! What chore do you absolutely dread and secretly wish someone else would do for you? Make it a bet! Make it worthwhile. Make it outlandish. Make it something I would absolutely despise doing or something so pricey that it would kill me to buy it for you (and not for me). Come on, use your imagination. Let’s have fun with this. I know I should just be able to put down the cookie and pick up the carrot, but seriously, if I enjoyed vegetables, then I wouldn’t need to diet, would it?
My husband and I have tried this. However, as a man, he always loses a ton of weight early in the process, then I get discouraged, then he tries to slow down to encourage me, and next thing I know, we are back to ordering take-out instead of making a salad. I’ve tried to motivate myself with things, but since I have to buy them myself and I’m cheap, it is self-defeating.
I am looking to you readers! The Pantless Wonder needs to be able to take her pants off without fear of being speared by a delusional fisherman. I no longer want to be the cautionary whale of what NOT to eat.
So . . . wanna make a bet?