this post is about diet pepsi

so, here's the thing: i love diet pepsi.

i could blame it on my parents who provided it to my sisters and i as the caffeinated soda of choice throughout our childhoods, but i'd also like to think that, as the independently minded little adult that i am, i did actually make a conscious choice at one point or another to think, "hey, this pop is pretty nifty." (obviously my inner voice is that of an older white gentleman from the 1950's midwest)

My inner voice also dresses to the nines...obviously.

but regardless of how this "love" (horrible choice of words now that i look at it...let's go with, "severe enjoyment of taste") came about, the fact is that diet pepsi will be my soda pick nine times out of ten. not regular pepsi. and definitely not coke.

Thank you, Chuck Norris.

so one thing that really gets my proverbial panties in a bunch is when people make snide comments about diet pepsi drinkers (actually diet soda drinkers in general, but since i just spent the past 5 hours making a big deal about only liking diet pepsi, i figured i'd stick with it).

Interchange:
Person 1: "And I'll have a diet to drink, thanks."
Person 2: "Oh my goooooooood, shut up. You are not fat."
Person 1: "...um, thank you?"

Why does ordering a diet soda automatically mean that you're doing it to cut calories? I personally am really not a fan of the taste of regular Pepsi. It is waaaaaay too sugary tasting, and I don't enjoy it. I'm also not a fan of giving my teeth sugar baths if I can help it. So, please, don't assume I'm on the verge of turning to anorexia next time I order a Diet just because I don't want to soak my teeth in sugar.

Mmm, gingivitis.

Ok, that's all (:

stay classy, san diego.
mjl.

oh, one more thing...

We start tech for Chicago this Saturday, and to that I only have to say, Oi gevalt, oi vey, jenkies, yikes, holy crap, and oh my geeeeeeeeez.

Picture this...minus the in-sync choreography, the costumes, and the stage presence.

At this point, we're not ready. Not a bit. Not a smudge. Not a skosh. (<-- not sure why I turn yiddish when I'm worried about stuff like this...it's tres fremd)

I tell you, he had it coming! The schmuck!

Pray for us.

mjl.

soooo,

It's May. More specifically Mother's Day, but that's irrelevant in relation to the purpose of my aforementioned statement of the obvious. The subtext of my simple "it's May" goes something like this...

"It's May, and I haven't posted anything, either worthwhile or totally useless, on this blog since late last year...not cool."

I mean, it's not like I think I have an audience to keep happy on here, but I've always felt an arguably unwarranted attachment to inanimate objects that fall into my possession, and often feel sympathetic towards their "feelings" when I neglect them for too long. I blame the lame attempts at artificially intelligent toys that were continually shoved at my generation from toddlerhood. (i.e. Tamagotchis, Poo-Chis, Furbees, etc etc) We were literally brought up thinking that if we didn't play with our electronics enough, they would die, starving and alone, in a pile of their own feces...or maybe that was just the fateful death that seemed to prescribe itself to my Tamagotchi day after day.

Maybe he died of dysentery...

But I digress...

The point is, I do actually feel twinges of guilt, albeit minuscule ones, but twinge-worthy nonetheless, when I neglectfully leave this blog locked in the hot, proverbial Station Wagon with the window cracked while I run back into Costco to grab another industrial sized tub of discounted pickles and peanut-butter pretzels. (Is peanut-butter hyphenated? These are the thoughts that keep me up & plague me at night...)

Also...this guy.

So, here I am, writing in my blog for the first time in almost half a year for no other reason than to break the habit of not doing so. I suppose that's all for now. There will be more to come soon, and in more frequent doses, I promise. I really do enjoy writing in this, so I'll try to keep my chronicles more up to date.

Adieu for now, my lovelies!
mjl.