Damn, it feels good to be a gangster.

One year and 49 days. That's how long I held out. And then this happened:


And holy crap, you know what? I DON'T CARE. Man, I'm feeling rebellious. And it is magical.

Giving up soda was my resolution for 2007. It's 2008, it's time. And because I'm home alone, it just felt right. It's like leaving a teenager unsupervised.

I will have you know I slammed that delicious can of Cherry Coke in approximately seven minutes, and I don't feel bad. Not one bit. And maybe tomorrow I'll have that ice cold Mountain Dew from the fountain at Subway that stares at me every time I choose lemonade, instead. Because you know what? I didn't give Subway up, either.


And it's past 10 p.m. And I'm awake and playing on the Internet because I CAN. I can drink pop and make a mess and send text messages and sleep backward on the bed, if I want.

And tomorrow morning while I'm getting ready for work entirely too early, I'll turn on all the lights and listen to something rebellious, like the Motion City Soundtrack's CD.  I'll eat potato chips for dinner and watch back-to-back episodes of Dawson's Creek on DVD.

Take that, responsibility. Take that.