resolution #1: ixnay hetay ietday odasay

when i wake up on the first day of a new year, i'm always sure i'll feel different.  i'm sure i'll feel energetic and optimistic and passionate and that all my faults will have magically disappeared as the clock ticks down to a new year. 

this is never, ever the case.  you don't (well, i don't) magically wake up with a new zest for life.  for instance, i still have -54% of an idea about what to write on here.  if i critically analyze all my favourite blogs, they all have one thing in common:  a potentially mentally unstable narcissist discussing the trivial facts of his or her life which nobody really cares about.  if that was all there was to having a successful blog that people read, then i'd be set!  the true mysteries of enticing blogging are still a mystery to me, and this sentence is making me question my ability to speak english.  that's like rhyming 'head' with 'head' (lou reed did it).  the one thing i have to offer with the brand new sparkly year of 2009 is this:

i stopped drinking diet coke. 

and it is destroying me.  it's like trainspotting but more disgusting.  it's not even as if i completely gave up on caffeine;  to make up for the lost soda, i just drink an extra pot of coffee every day and have started experimenting with teas.  i am currently drinking 'green tea with jasmine'.  what the hell is jasmine?  lipton is not referring to the disney princess, i'm sure.  this blog will not fit proper grammatical standards, by the way, so you can just stop it with your red -emarker.  the point of this paragraph is that detoxing from diet coke is the hardest thing i have ever had to do in my entire life and i alternately want to kill myself, my friends, or any stranger who dares get in my way.  by kill i do not mean kill in the literal sense.  i just have a lot of rage.  i would never express it with a weapon.  i say this disclaimer keeping in mind the man who wrote fanfic about that random all-female pop group getting murdered and, if i recall correctly, eaten.  there won't be any of that here, either.  try livejournal.  until i can find something more important to say (and, no, "i'm sitting here eating dinner with jenny!" or "i'm in the shower with tad!" do not count), i am going to document this horrible thing known as quitting.

day one: i decided to quit drinking soda, including the diet variety.  

day two:  i had a little bit more coffee than normal in the earlier hours of the day, but i felt great and full of energy and ready to tackle any obstacles that came my way!  i was productive polly all afternoon, getting stuff done like it was my job.

day three: we're up to 6 cups of coffee a day, now.  still feeling good and still going strong.

day four:  10 cups of coffee and the sleep is getting a little affected.  4:00AM, still no sleepytime.  10:00AM class the next day punishes me thoroughly.

day five:  so sick of coffee but need caffeination from any source available.  start having the weirdest dreams, even more weird than the one with the talking pineapple.  become convinced that the snow plow trucks outside my window is an alien space ship.  thank god that i am in a bedroom in a basement, because logic says the aliens will go upstairs first.

day six: all i want is a nice cold can of diet coke.  i want to pop open that tab and hear the beautiful harmonious sounds of the glorious bubbles of carbonation.  i want to feel that aspartame-y and cola-y deliciousness as it glides down my throat.  i want to feel that tingle as the acid burns a hole in my stomach.  i want to feel that pain as that ulcer from a few years ago flares up.  i want it all so badly. 

day seven:  cut back to 3 cups of coffee and some tea.  and an entire bottle of water.

that has been my journey so far.  i am now going to retire to bed with a good book and my green tea with jasmine (it's a whole new world!)  and for the record, no, i will never be giving up coffee.  never, ever, never.  i'd sooner give up my undying love for gary oldman.