i can't get no satisfaction

that song has been running through my head as i deal with this incredibly difficult issue.

i am an addict. i would hang my head in shame but i really dont give a flying rat's buttock. with that said, i do try to deal with my problem. sometimes i stop for a few days. but usually i simply succumb when the need strikes me and i enjoy it with hedonistic abandon. unfortunately Romanian policies make it a bit difficult for me to indulge to satisfaction.

i seriously love coke. i mean the stuff is goooood. and nothing is quite so lovely as that first gulp when your throat is parched, acidly burning it with something caught ecstactically between pain and pleasure. god! i love coke.

nothing is quite as disappointing as buying a coke here. its the little things that can make you go insane. first off i went to mcdonalds and they didnt put ice in my coke. Dude! what up with that? am not a big fan of ice but i much prefer it to kinda cold stuff moving about a paper cup without the clinking musicality of the ice. that sound is beautiful! and correct sounding. try a cup of the stuff without ice and see how weird it feels just to be holding it.

I met some americans who told me that ice just isnt done here. they had some people over the house and offered them a drink. one of the ladies then had a fit accusing him of trying to murder her son. "murder?" you say. Yes! and it was all done by the addition of ice in a cup. i dont get it either. apparently it has something about it upsetting the humours, weakening the body and leaving it susceptible to disease.

okay. i'm easy. i'm understanding of culture. no ice. i can handle it. but this is when it truly becomes horrible and unbearable. i go to the jiffy store or Fornetti (a truly heavenly place with double bite sized pastries that are warm and soft and beautiful!). i get a coke. its not cold. i check most of the other cokes in the fridge and none are cold. maybe its that just my hands are cold and so i cant feel a temperature difference (oh. how i lie to myself). i buy the coke. i open it, mentally and physically preparing myself for that carbonic kick. instead, i get room temperature fizz. oh the let down. the beauty of coke is the acid - thats it. i dont really drink it for any other reason. to get the stuff and not have one's single greatest desire (am going for hyperbole here) fulfilled. . . no reason to live.