Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Sunday, May 16, 2004

Failure of the Day: Aspartame

I know it's tiresome but I'm writing about my diet some more. Sorry.

I hate diet soda. In my many long decades of wrestling with my ass, I have never been able to make the switch. I become absolutely unhinged without my beloved soda pop—and I drink a fair bit of it when I'm not dieting (3 cans a day). I suffer and moan and sweat to cut that down to one and a half to two cans a day when on a diet, and I drink all of it after work. I started drinking water instead of nursing that third can all day long.

Now, water is fine. It is pleasingly wet and all, and that is important when you are thirsty. But I am a girl who is absolutely ruled by her sense of taste. And it is not one of those liberal, friendly forms of government, either; my sense of taste is a totalitarian dictatorship; my tongue is a fascist. Don't make it angry; you wouldn't like it when it's angry.

And sure, Water is great when the aim is merely to dilute. But that is not so much my goal; I myself like to have a little flavor with my moisture. And on that score, anything is better than plain water. Ah HA! Anything?

It occurred to me that diet soda did indeed fall into that set of beverages called Anything. It doesn't necessarily taste good and it certainly doesn’t taste like what it promises to taste like, but it tastes like something at least.

And that's finally how I managed to do it after one score and 17: Selective Relativity. That’s the secret to diet soda. Have nothing better with which to compare it. God help me; I drink Diet Coke now.


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