P.A.

With Lindsey back in rehab, I feel it necessary to throw in my own towel and make an admission.

Hi. My name is Gina, and I'm a pop-oholic.

Everyone together: "Hi Gina."

They say the first step is admitting your problem, so I'm coming clean.

Though I have always enjoyed pop "recreationally", I didn't start "using" on a regular basis until I was nineteen. My drug of choice has always been cola, diet cola to be specific. I will have a regular Coke or Pepsi in a pinch, but only if the diet variety is unavailable. My taste has become more refined through the years, and now my preference leans toward Big 8 Diet Cola, even above the sweeter, more bubbly Diet Pepsi, which used to be my favorite poison. The whole 7-Up, Ginger Ale, Cream Soda, etc...group of alternatives would save me in an emergency, much the same as we'd all eat grass and worms if regular food were obliterated and we needed to prevent starvation. So for the sake of this rant, we'll say I'm addicted to diet cola, and leave other flavors out of it.

Pop is much more than just a beverage to me. It can be, and often is, the ultimate thirst quencher; the perfect way to wash down a good meal; a meal replacement, if need be; a partner to a ciggarette; a stress reliever; a nightcap; a cool breeze on a hot summer day, if you will. I look forward to my first drink of the day, and I miss it terribly when it's gone. While most people sip a glass of pop and place their empty cup in the sink, I relish every part of a good drink of pop, from beginning to end. Be it frosty, fresh, warm, or flat, it delights my palate each and every time. As most people can't live without their daily "double double", I would be a wreck if I didn't have my daily fix of pop.

Some of you might take offence to the comparison I am making between pop and drug addiction. While I appreciate that drug and alcohol addiction are very serious and difficult beasts to tackle, and while I use this comparison for humour's sake, being addicted to pop has it's physical and psychological side effects as well. Anyone who has ever quit (or tried to quit) can tell you - it's not easy. I have only tried to quit once, unsuccessfully, after hearing that the chemicals in Coke dissolved a penny or fueled a 747 or some such nonsense. The few days I went without pop were painful, anxiety-ridden, and unforgettable. I decided to go cold turkey and switch to water, figuring that my body shouldn't be subjected to the ravages of digesting airplane fuel. In hindsight, I think downing a pint of pure unleaded gasoline would have been easier on my body than the absence of pop. I had splitting headaches. I felt completely drained of energy, fatigued, and lethargic. I was on edge and cranky. I had trouble sleeping. I joked about going through withdrawls, when really that's exactly what was happening. Only after I gave in to my craving and gulped a massive bottle of diet cola did I feel complete and healthy again. Quitting smoking, known to be one of the most difficult pursuits, was easier for me than quitting pop.

And so I sit before you, still a hopeless pop addict. There is no hope in sight for me. If anyone can advise me on a positive course of action, I would be greatful. A good 12-step program maybe? Don't bother telling me to quit cold turkey - I tried that, see above. And the switching to 7-Up or flavored, carbonated water thing, that won't work either, as has been suggested to me in the past. When milk goes down in price I might have a fighting chance, but as long as I can buy a million litres of pop for three bucks at Superstore, I can't see a salvation in my near future. So if you've quit, or know someone who has, please let me know how. As much as I dearly love my pop, I'm ready to fight the beast. At least that's what I keep telling myself. Wish me luck.

And on a related note, contrary to the recent actions of the news media, my recovery/self-destruction will not, thankfully, have to be the first thing Steve Murphy reads tonight at 6pm.