1. Participated in the spectacle that is the Tribeca Film Festival. Actually, I just went and saw a new movie that's on the festival list because I got free tickets from a co-worker. There was no pomp, no celebrities, nothing whatsoever that would make me a cooler human being. Since you're wondering, the movie I saw was a documentary called Secrecy, which is naturally about government policies regarding classified information. It was a decent film, of good quality as you'd expect with a festival selection, but nothing exceedinly interesting in my opinion. In fact, they only touched on what I thought was the truly interesting angle: the fact that we're living in the "information age" and therefore everyone has more info than ever before and so the whole practice and gathering of classified intelligence would seem to be somewhat arcane and the huge struggle to hide what's nearly impossible to hide even more arcane. Instead they chose to pursue the GWBush is horrible/the government is a dirty secretive body/we have a right to know crap. It's all fine to uncover some illicit govermental moves to hide some facts, but I've seen all that before. It's called Frontline and it's on every week for free on PBS. I gave it a 3 out of 5 on the audience scorecard.
2. I had my first pop in maybe 2-3 years while watching the movie. It wasn't as monumental an occasion as it could have been as 1) it was only a diet, and 2) it was a fountain drink so not as aggressively carbonated. It was actually somewhat pleasant.
3. Along the lines of my New Yorker thought from last time, I stopped and thought about it just now when writing the word "pop." I've gotten infected with "soda" so much that "pop" doesn't come naturally anymore, and even when it does it somehow sounds odd in my head.
4. Dave thinks I'm not a good writer anymore. This is probably true. At least I'm not as spontaneous or perhaps as madly interesting as I was. It's because I'm happy. Or content. These are wonderful things to be, but for my own artistic purposes, not really conducive to exultant creation. Because I'm almost always happy, I don't have those lonely or horribly agitated or otherwise expansive emotional range that I used to. So my prose doesn't have as much range either. Or at least that's how I can explain it.
5. I'm always happy because of Sara. So Sara, shame on you for your one negative influence on my life. I'm not sure just yet how serious that sentence is. Not very, but maybe a tiny bit. I'll think about it.