Leaving on a Jet Plane

Well, correction. Tomorrow, I shall, infact, be leaving on a Sahara plane, to Cochin, where I shall spend the next 4 days stuffing myself silly on Malyali cuisine, which is, in my humble opinion, one of the finest in the world. This will be ultimately good for me, for reasons that I shall just explain.

Well, see, my mission for these summer holidays was to get some meat on my bones. I was about six kilos underweight, for my height, and quite frankly, I look it. I'm a stick, and I don't like being one. So, in earnest, I broke one of my longstanding rules, and in addition to eating in my general gluttonous style, I also snacked between meals, on namkeen, and biscuits, and bhuttas, and anything I could lay my hands on. Oh, and also lots of ice cream.

Well, I thought this would work, until today, when at the fancy smancy weighing machine at Centerstage Mall(CAUTION! LONG DIGRESSION AHEAD: Nisheet had taken us to Wave for his budday do, where we saw the funniest, worst scripted, and most unrealistic Hollywood movie ever made, The Day After Tomorrow. If I have the phursat, I'll give a full review of how incredibly bad this movie was, and why you should under no circumstances miss it), I discovered that I have actually lost two kilos, and am now all of 9 kilos underweight.
Aaaaaaaargh.
In hindsight, the reason for this is simple. In addition to all this eating, I was regularly swimming 50 lengths a day, along with gallavanting around town every other day. Thus, I seemed to have burned more than I have gained.

Well, I'll try to rectify that now, lets see how things go.

Moving on to other things, this is the 99th post on Blah! The next post will be the Hundreth, so bring out the bubbly, or juice, for us sober souls.