Operation ÖSTERREICH
I am in the midst of giving up pop. I had one Jones Soda cream soda this evening & I'll have another tomorrow, the last of the bunch. No more can after can of Dr. Pepper. My great fear is dehydration; so, I am trying to make myself drink as much water as I used to drink pop. Fortunately, at debate Nationals (yes, I know that I am tremendously behind on my "Master Debating" posts, pray forgive the tardiness) at the University of Vermont each participant was given wee water bottle, a water bottle with a base small enough to fit in Lumi's cupholder. I own a couple other water bottles, each with a greater water carrying capacity but neither with a base capable of fitting into Lumi's cupholder. Score! Vermont is a very "crunchy" school & chockablock with green weenies to boot; the refillable water bottles were given to us in lieu of free bottled water being made available. This is an act of environmentalism with which I agree fully: the discarding instead of recycling of bottled water water bottles is obscenely inefficient, an unconscionable waste of material. Just drink the water out of water fountains, people! That's what they're there for! The reason I roll my eyes whenever the European nations seeks to lecture the U.S. on environmentalism? Because the Eurotrash throw away millions upon millions of bottled water bottles every day, even though they have perfectly potable public water. I'll entertain their ideas once they stop being such obvious hypocrites. But I digress. My second greatest fear is withdrawal symptoms as my body goes off caffeine. I'm no sawbones, I really have no idea if I was or was not addicted to caffeine. But I am anticipating/dreading headaches. We shall see if they come to pass. So, yeah, water. I'm not going to lose eleven stone unless I make bigger changes than just going to the gym. My hope is that quitting pop will help me cut down severely on my between-meals snacking. The goal is to eat nothing twixt meals that isn't a fruit or vegetable. Those I can each with abandon, & if I stay fat off of carrots so be it.

He's Dead, Jim
In other health-related news, I slept eleven hours between Sunday night & Monday morning. I think my internal clock's been righted after the glorious disruption of the 24 Heures du Mans, but I'll feel better about that tomorrow morning, after another full night's slumber.

The Queue
I am in the queue to borrow the new James Bond novel, Carte Blanche by Jeffrey Deaver, from my local library. The last new 007 novel, Devil May Care by Sebastian Faulks, was an unmitigated disaster, but my hope is that Ian Fleming's dimwitted descendants have learnt the lesson of Devil May Care's critical lambasting. (It wasn't a Bond novel, it was a parody of a Bond novel, & not a good-humored parody at that. Faulks clearly disdain's Bond & every word Fleming wrote; I call Fleming's family dimwitted because they are the only people who didn't realize that Faulks was insulting their forbear at every turn, lampooning Fleming's work rather than celebrating it.) I'm scores of people down the list; so, I don't know when I'll get my mitts on Carte Blanche, but I don't want to own it unread just in case it turns out as badly as Devil May Care. Carte Blanche. Here's hoping.

I have not read the older Bond novels only because I wish not to commit myself to a series. That might well change if Carte Blanche comes up trumps, which will whet my appetite for more Bond, leaving the non-Fleming novels as the only available fare.

The Rebel Black Dot Song of the Day
The Wombats, "Anti-D" from The Wombats Proudly Present: This Modern Glitch (T.L.A.M.)

Commentary: "Please allow me to be your anti-depressant."