Skip to main content

Diary of a Coke addict - Day 1

Today I quit drinking Diet Coke.

Friends would say that I should worry more about my Marlboro Light consumption, but hey, battling one evil at a time is enough for me to cope with right now.

So far, I have a headache, am in a foul mood (although as Alpha Male says, and what's so unusual about that?) and stomach ache; all or any of which may or may not be related to weaning myself off the fizzy stuff.

The reasons I decided to stop my daily habit of pouring two/three/four or so cans down my throat are as follows:
  • Diet Coke acts as a diuretic, which would explain why I often feel dehydrated. Plus dehydration means flaky skin and more wrinkles. Not good.
  • Aspartame is getting more and more bad press. While many of the 'Aspartame is the root of all evil in the world' sites have a tendency towards the hysterical, I am also loathe to swallow the arguments of the other side - mainly because the argument that Aspartame is harmless is backed up by studies funded by, hey, you'll never guess who? Yep, that's right, the big players in the Aspartame industry. And they couldn't possibly be biased in any way, right?
  • Plus, drinking too much of the stuff makes me bloated. Again, not good.

I have always been instinctively neurotic about the kids ingesting any form of sweetener-spiked food or drink - although Aspartame use is banned in Europe in brands targeting children, other types of sweeteners are not. If I feel sweeteners are dangerous for the kids then maybe a Diet Coke-rich diet isn't so great for my long-term health either?

So yes, I am incredibly vain and I also suffer from a mild form of hypochondria.

Anyway, if you want to make your own mind up about Aspartame, here are some useful links:

The 'Aspartame is good' lobby

The 'Aspartame is bad' lobby

Aspartame also goes under the following aliases:
AspartameN-L-alpha-Aspartyl-L-phenylalanine 1-methyl ester
3-Amino-N-(alpha-carboxyphenethyl) succinamic acid N-methyl ester


Popular posts from this blog

Apologies for being incommunicado this week and hope none of you out there are too distraught not to be receiving the usual almost-daily MotV missives. The reason for the silence is that I'm up to my neck, metaphorically-speaking, in research papers for my first grad course assessment. This experience has made me realise how rigorously un-academic I am in my thinking. It has also illuminated how reliant I am on red wine in order to get through endless evenings typing furiously on my laptop, not to mention the fueling of increasingly colorful curses that I feel obliged to aim at the University's online library system which consistently refuses to spit out any of the journals I'm desperate for (I refuse to believe this is 100% due to my technical incompetence...)Oh well, if this is the price one has to pay in order to realize a long-cherished dream then it's not all that bad... No one ever said a mid-life career change would be easy. Wish me luck!

Recommended & the Mahiki dance-off

My GFs and I went to Mahiki last night, great fun as usual but made me feel a bit old; it seems that Thursday night is the playground of the just-past-pubescent. Oh well. Good tunes though, so whatever.In between taking over the dancefloor - the youngsters may have youth on their side but frankly that shrinks to insignificance in the face of two decades of clubbing experience - one of my GFs and I got into a conversation about why so many people are full of bull.It appears that many people we come across are content to live their lives in a superficial way, skimming the surface of what life has to offer and equating the ownership of stuff (cars, houses, boats, jewelry, designer clothes) with happiness. They converse in terms of status, strut their possessions as a measure of their own self-worth, take themselves far too seriously, are quick to judge others, easily annoyed, complain a lot about very little and their worries seem to far outweigh their joys. Personally, I think all that…


Following on from the realisation that my lungs are filthy and if I don't give up the smokes soon I face a life of wheezing at best, off I trotted to see the charming Dr T.

Dr T, who's charming by virtue of the fact that he's less jaded than the other doctors in the surgery (in other words, he treats patients as if they're human beings with a right to NHS services rather than annoying fraudsters trying to gain sympathy for imaginary illnesses) promptly put me on potentially habit-forming drugs to get me off the evil weed. Something doesn't feel quite right about this but since I'm so pathetically grateful to have a doctor who's willing to give me more than two seconds of his precious time, I have acquiesced to his demands.

Anyway, this wonder drug is called Champix and promises to have me merrily chucking my smokes in the bin in no time. Or it will if I can get past the possible side effects, the highlights being abnormal dreams, nausea, flatulence, snoring, …