As with many, I'm sick of having dreams and never following through. Countless students at Penn State imagine great things and never even try to make their thoughts a reality. With this in mind, I decided to attempt something that I think we've all wanted to do at one point or another.

I made the choice to eat nothing but breakfast cereal, skim milk and water for a full seven-day week. Cereal for breakfast, lunch, dinner and for snacks. It's a bold move but it's an important first step if others are to follow; I need to show everyone that it's okay to pursue your dreams.

What follows is a daily journal of my week of nothing but cereal, including an entry the day before and immediately following the final 24-hour period.

March, 8, 2002

Spring break is drawing to a close but my adventure has yet to begin. Tomorrow when I wake up I will begin a week eating nothing but cereal and milk.

Tonight I ate dinner at my aunt and uncle's house (both Penn State alumni). It was a good dinner but I felt compelled to eat more, so when I got home I had some pizza and Chinese food.

I also received word from a biology instructor at Penn State who asked not to be named. He said I probably wouldn't die from my cereal diet, which is reassuring.

I think it's fair to say that I derive no greater pleasure on this earth than from a good bowl of cereal, but I know I am in for a hard week. I just hope that I can do it and I also wish that when this is over I still love all my favorite breakfast cereals.

March 9, 2002

It has begun.

Everything started out smoothly enough, but my will was soon to be tested when my aunt (the same one who had me over for dinner) dropped off some of my favorite treats: lemon squares. It was hard to resist but I knew I would receive ridicule if I only lasted one day, so I pressed on.

Later some of my old high school friends called me and said they were going to pick me up so we could go to Jersey Mike's, which is, as many of you know, one of the finest sandwich shops in all the land. As my pals gorged themselves on sandwiches I thought of Toucan Sam and Tony the Tiger -- I would be strong for them.

With some emotional support I ended the day very strong. No upset stomach or excessive trips to another old friend: Mr. Potty.

March 10, 2002

Well I'll tell you what, this is really no problem at all. In fact, if you're trying to lose weight I recommend this diet because I've had only around 1,000 calories today and I'm really not that hungry.

I got into State College after Spring Break and a little later went to the Giant, 255 Northland Center, to buy cereal with a friend. I purchased a box of Boo Berry (which is hard to find), a box of Cheerios, three boxes of Blueberry Morning and two boxes of something called Fruit and Fibre, which is made by Post. It has toasted flakes, raisins, dried peaches and almonds.

Walking down an aisle with seven boxes of cereal and a gallon of milk in my basket, an older woman gasped and covered her mouth, and I later remarked to my friend that she acted as if I were carrying a mortally wounded baby.

Day two in the can and I'm feeling wonderful. Thank you cereal diet.

March 11, 2002

Today was the first day I worked out since I've started my new diet and it was going quite well until I did some squats.

I finished a set and took a breather, and as I was pacing I noticed the gym was unusually quiet. No one talking, almost inaudible music, and even more unusual, there was no metal clanging from barbells and dumbbells and other kinds of bells. What was going on? It seemed totally bizarre to me that I could barely hear anything. Then I got a sickening feeling that I've sometimes felt in which nothing seems real. It's pretty terrifying and difficult to describe, but imagine the entire world is a cartoon and the animator decides to telepathically clue you into this fact so that you realize nothing truly exists. No real people, no real cereal, just figments of an imagination. That's sort of what it's like. Fortunately, the feeling passed.

After working out I weighed myself and so far I've maintained my normal weight, which is around 171. The rest of the day went all right until around seven, at which time I experienced some mild depression, but nothing serious.

I can do this, though, and I'm not going to let existential self-doubt or a case of the blues get in the way.

March 12, 2002

Today was a mostly normal day with very few effects from my cereal diet.

I am feeling no abnormal hunger (I'm always hungry anyway, no matter what I eat) and my tummy, besides from a few funny noises, seems to be handling the situation quite well.

And although I'm not necessarily hungry, I certainly desire something different than cereal to eat. Soon enough, I'm more than half way done.

March 13, 2002

I don't know, anymore.

At around one this morning I woke up with a little stomach ache and tried going to the bathroom but to no avail. I quickly fell back to sleep; however, I woke up at 7 with my stomach feeling a little queasy.

I can tell things aren't right. I don't feel terrible but I am tired and my stomach, although not in any serious pain, just feels a little sorrowful. He's been crying all-day and twisting and turning.

It's OK, friend, we're going to get through this together.

On a brighter note, I've been reunited with a past favorite: Cheerios. I don't like them in milk but just plain they're a beautiful little treat. When this is all over I plan to snack on the grainy, crunchy little o-shaped funnies quite a bit.

March 14, 2002

I think my mind is dying.

I feel detached from myself. It's rather odd, but I feel like my self-consciousness, my awareness, my self-identity, has been ripped away from my brain and all my physical functions are being carried out without my consent.

Perhaps you're familiar with dualism, which states that the mind is separate from the body. In other words, there's a non-physical substance, call it a soul if you'd like, and this soul is totally distinct from our physical brains.

Of course modern day science would like to claim that who we are, our choices, our thoughts, are not metaphysical phenomenon but actually nothing more than neuro-chemical processes. When I daydream about, say, pants, this is actually just a complex system of electro-chemical impulses, totally rooted in physicality. My mind's eye vision of a pair of trousers is just a bunch of atoms.

I think that I've discovered that the popular scientific notion is incorrect, because through substantial breakfast cereal consumption, you can actually disconnect your non-physical soul from your mushy little brain.

Excuse me; I have to go to the bathroom.

Okay, I'm back.

Well, bye.

March 15, 2002

I couldn't finish my Blueberry Morning today.

I tried and I tried but I just couldn't do it. I looked at the flakes and oat clusters that used to seem so appealing and all I could do was dunk my spoon in and out of the bowl. Then I cried.

I cried because I didn't enjoy Boo Berry as much as I thought I would. I cried because I used to take great delight in Blueberry Morning and now I don't. I cried because Tony the Tiger said I'd always love cereal and now I can't even stand the thought of it.

Walking home from class this morning I felt like the breeze was going to blow me over. I felt like life wasn't worth living. What's the point?

The point is that at midnight tonight I will be a free man. I'm writing this at around noon, the final day of misery. I will report back with a final entry in the early morning hours to share my last thoughts.

March 16, 2002

It's right around 12:20 in the morning as I write this and I've just eaten a large, 14-inch pizza as well as some breadsticks. And you know what? I didn't enjoy it.

My first few breadsticks were good but as I continued to eat I lost enjoyment. I couldn't taste anything. I finished the pizza, if only because I thought I owed it to myself. But it wasn't the best pizza I've ever had, like I thought it would be; it was just average.

Everyone is personally familiar with the principle that only when something is lost does its true value show. And everyone knows that when the missing item is returned, we appreciate it immensely and cease to take the treasure for granted.

I believed that when I had my freedom back the aforementioned principle would kick in to high gear, but it didn't, and I think I know why. It's because I willingly deprived myself of a mundane freedom most of us are fortunate to have. My ability to eat whatever I wanted was not stolen from me; rather I refused to accept what I had. And that's why when I allowed myself to eat pizza it wasn't particularly good. True thankfulness doesn't proceed from re-accepting a gift already given when it's departure was your own decision.

And that's the lesson that comes out of this madness -- that and the fact that I'm crazy and stupid.

But at least I followed my dream. The only question now is what I'll do with myself. It's scary to have fulfilled the sole purpose of my life because I feel like there's no reason for me to be here anymore. I guess I'll just have to come up with something else to do, such as wearing a lot of rubber bands or maybe creating a hat made out of paperclips.