Everything is disintegrating.

No lunch.

Spaghetti With Spicy Three Meat Sauce and Chicken Fritta
Cavatappi With Marinara Sauce
Cavatappi With Marinara Sauce and Meatballs

It's harder to remember things. Nothing as crazy as what happened yesterday - I definitely can piece together my entire day. It takes a while, though, and I miss some details. Hopefully it's just starvation of certain essential amino acids, or nerves.

Lunch was Moon.

Dinner was composed of three plates of pasta:

Sun
Nebula
Asteroid Belt

Well, I'm definitely not hungry.

A special thanks to my dining companion, Janessa!

Today I woke up in an Olive Garden. I didn't remember ordering a fettuccine with marinara and italian sausage. I didn't remember my waitress's name. I didn't even remember how I got there. I was just...suddenly aware.

Physically, I feel fine. I remember that I was sick. I don't remember much else. I guess I should be worried, but really, looking at the calendar and seeing I only have a little over two weeks left now, I am just relieved that I'll be free soon.

Lunch was Hootie and the Blowfish.

Dinner was composed of three plates of pasta:

Laurel and Hardy
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Fettuccine and an Entire Sausage

At least I remembered my camera.

A special thanks to my dining companion, nobody, apparently!

Spaghetti. Angelhair. Fettuccine. Penne. Cavatappi. Linguine.

Spaghetti,

Angelhair.

Fettucine?

Penne!

Cavatappi~

Linguine...

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Lunch was I.

Dinner was composed of three plates of pasta:

II
III
IV

Spaghetti. Angelhair. Fettuccine. Penne. Cavatappi. Linguine.

A special thanks to my dining companion, these blind men who grope through the world and see nothing!

One month of nothing but pasta, and now I can see colors that defy description. Beautiful antivermillion and ultrayellow auras dance around the wait staff, colors that are so obvious and brilliant that I can't believe that only I see them.

Occasionally, I catch glimpses of pastas from long ago in the past; even now, Mussolini's final bowl of farfalle hovers before me. But that's not all. I can see pasta from the distant future. A cruel dictatorship that crushes the public under its iron boot, where the only meal is an unsauced elbow macaroni dish, served cold and butterless. This is only one possible future, but it will happen unless the whispers of the ancient Keepers of the Sacred Noodle are true, and the prophecy can be fulfilled.

Lunch was Walden.

Dinner was composed of three plates of pasta:

Nature
Self-Reliance
Experience

Only I can save us.

A special thanks to my dining companion, Conch'igle, High Priest of the Sacred Noodle!

The transformation continues. I feel the pulse of pasta power coursing through my veins, my very blood congealing from the thin cream it once was into a robust bechamel. I can taste seasonings more bold and brilliant than anyone can possibly imagine. My touch carmelizes that which is raw, turns it into something golden-brown and delicious.

Lunch was skipped.

Dinner was composed of four plates of pasta:

Crusade
Wrath
Cataclysm
Anime Panda

And still I hunger for more.

A special thanks to my dining companion, Ca'va'tapp, one of the eldritch pastalords who has chosen me for his vessel!

When I started this challenge, I was young. Inexperienced. Hungry, yes, but with newly-cut teeth. In my youthful hubris, I boasted that I would eat all the pasta, without really understanding what that meant. How much pasta is all the pasta? I would argue that no one really knows, and only I can even fathom a guess. Hint: it's a lot.

Now I can feel my body changing, adapting to its new life. Yes, for the past week I've been sick, but that was just the beginning. That was the pasta breaking me down, so that it could build me back up. Reform me into something stronger, something greater than I was. I don't yet know where this power will take me, but I know that I'm ready for it.

Lunch was skipped.

Dinner was composed of three plates of pasta:

July 28, 1914
September 1, 1939
August 23, 2018

Week five starts tomorrow.

A special thanks to my dining companion, Nick!

I don't think I've ever been sick for so long. On the plus side, I was pretty hungry. What's that they say? Starve a fever, feed a cold? Or something? Can you feed it pasta? Hope so. I'm going to engorge this jerk.

Lunch was skipped.

Dinner was composed of five plates of pasta:

Earth
Fire
Wind
Water
Heart

Gonna try to get some extra sleep in tonight.

A special thanks to my dining companion, Vinegar!

Occasionally I'll answer viewer mail here, some frequently-asked-questions sort of things. But today I'm going to answer a question that no one asked, presumably because you're all wondering it but are too nervous to bring it up. That's fine, by the way, and I appreciate that you respect the fact that I'm a busy man with a lot of pasta to eat.

Q: What is your Olive Garden mixtape / What four songs represent your Olive Garden experience most closely?
A: See below.

Lunch was Taylor Swift - Mean.

Dinner was composed of three plates of pasta:

Taylor Swift - Love Story
Taylor Swift - Picture to Burn
Taylor Swift - The Best Day

Short blog today, but can you blame me? It's Friday! Go out and have a good time - or do what I'm doing: writing a blog and drinking alone!

A special thanks to my dining companion, Danny's neckbeard, which shows a great deal of promise to one day becoming truly majestic, despite its youth!

The sickness is beginning to subside. I'm definitely not up to 100%, but I can do things other than feel pain and complain to other people about it, and that's a great start.

I did end up seeing what I thought would be a helpful person - a licensed physician. Turns out he was a total quack. Allow me to share the story with you, though you might want to be sitting down for this one, especially if you are susceptible to secondhand indignation.

So I explain to the doctor my symptoms, and he asks a number of, frankly, very personal and inappropriate questions about my health, my lifestyle choices, and my diet. Seriously, I don't see how often I go to the bathroom is anyone's business but my own - perv much? Anyway. When I mention the Olive Garden thing, he bristles. Apparently he thought I was joking. I tried to set him straight:

"No. I'm serious. I'm going to eat all the pasta. I'm halfway done now."
"You can't do that."
"Tell that to the fine people at USA Today", I said, pulling out my printed copy of the article that I show to everyone who doesn't believe in, or pretends not to care about, my blog.
"No, I mean, you can't do that. You're going to irreparably damage your blah blah blah blah..."

And he went on and on and on. This is why I don't trust so-called medical "professionals". They're more interested in their bottom line than they are in actually help people with their completely non-pasta-related health problems. Very sad.

Lunch was A Drive Through The Country.

Dinner was composed of three plates of pasta:

Hide and Seek
Rainy Autumn Day
Collecting Seashells

I've been looking into alternative medicine lately, and I think I might try some of it - look for my reviews in future blogs!

A special thanks to my dining companion, Anna, who declined to have her photo taken!

My head is pounding. I can't write. I can't think. Only pasta.

Here's some pasta for you guys.

Lunch was Eris.

Dinner was composed of three plates of pasta:

Achos
Ania
Lupe

see you tomorrow

A special thanks to my dining companion, Janna!

Travelled up to Grand Forks today to get a break from the routine of slowly dying of what I can only assume is a pasta-based tumor, a malignant ball of carbs that has permanently lodged itself in my sinus cavity and causes a nonstop flow of mucous and misery.

Sorry. Where was I? Oh. Grand Forks.

Grand Forks has been on my to-visit list ever since I began this quest - their Olive Garden is legendary as the subject of Marilyn Hagerty's viral review from 2012 . I have so much to say about that review, and the Internet's response to it, that I'll save it for its own day, because I try not to let these blogs get too long.

Lunch was skipped.

Dinner was composed of three plates of pasta:

Id
Ego
Superego

As Mrs. Hagerty pointed out, the decor of this Olive Garden is much more ornate and grandiose than the Fargo branch. As expected, the food is absolutely identical. I was hoping to meet the manager and compare his personal style to that of the three Fargo ones, but I couldn't find him. :(

A special thanks to my dining companion, Sue!