I’m an internet junkie, I admit it. Like a drug addict, I need a constant stream of internet flowing into my brain or I start to undergo withdrawal. It doesn’t even really matter what I’m reading, but that steady stream of new information keeps me going. I knew it was bad several years ago when my home internet connection, a cable model, stopped working one evening. After a couple hours of internal debate, I broke down and went back back to work just to get an hour of surfing in before returning home.

You think that’s bad? It’s gotten worse. Since I got my iPhone, the internet is basically sitting in my pocket, its siren song only an arms length away. I find myself almost unconsciously reaching into my pocket to pull out my phone whenever there is some downtime (an elevator ride, a walk down the hall, or even a lull in the coversation). It’s a bad habit and I know I have to stop, but at least I can admit the problem.

I normally hate traveling to hotels because inevitably there is some horrendous internet setup where the company tries to gouge addicts such as myself. Typical prices seem to be $10 a day, meaning that within the course of a typical stay I’ve spent as much on access as I spend in a typical month (and, of course, my home internet fees don’t magically disappear during this time). The worst I’ve seen was in Barcelona, where truly unlimited access from within the hotel cost 27 euros. Even I had to draw the line there…with the declining dollar, that’s just criminal.

I arrived in Chicago for a conference last night and was surprised to see the Holiday Inn advertising “Free Highspeed Wireless” access for all its guests. I was overjoyed, but as is typical with these offers, there’s always a catch. They say you get what you pay for, and that’s pretty much what I’ve been able to eke out of this service. The access point, ironically named “stayonline”, drops my connection every few minutes. When I manage to get a signal, the experience allows me to reminisce about the “good old days” of 2400-bps modems. Yes, it’s slow.

Maybe I’ll be forced to actually go out and explore the city.

With my iPhone close at hand, of course.

I remember seeing a spot on a news show in past years regarding the growing popularity of buyng in bulk. The focus was on the buying habits of those who frequented the warehouse stores like Costco or Sam’s Club. I remember chuckling to myself as I watched the customers pile the gallon-sized mayonnaise and ketchup jars, multipacks of frozen foods, and other oversized packages onto the conveyor belt at the checkout line, commenting to my wife how ridiculous the whole process was. The narrator agreed. According to the show, most people who go this route end up with one of two problems:

1. They end up throwing food because they can’t possibly eat it all.
2. They force themselves to eat it all and gain massive amounts of weight

I get some sense of satisfaction from watching people do this, knowing that I would never do the same myself. It’s the same sense of satisfaction I get from using a Mac. Or from driving a Prius. Some call it elitisim. I call it acceptance of my superiority. Or so I thought…

I discovered there were some people I respected who shopped at Costco who didn’t seem to fall into the common traps. Though I initially bristled at the thought of joining myself, I soon found myself in line for a membership. It would be a great way to save some money on non-perishable items like toilet paper, aluminum foil, or paper towels (never mind that I didn’t really consume these products at a particularly impressive rate). Soon I found more uses, but I’ve stayed on target, eschewing the 1 pound packages of smoked salmon for dried goods that can last for months. (Okay, in all fairness, I did buy the 1 pound of smoked salmon once…and yes, I had to throw some of it out).

More dangerous, however, has been my discovery that bulk goods are just a click of a button away. Fully aware of the convenient, albeit minor, health benefits of eating dark chocolate, I happened upon a 12-pack of a dark chocolate version of Toberone, complete with the requisite honey and almond nougat (maybe one of these days I’ll actually understand what “nougat” is). Inexpensive. Good for my health. Delicious. What more could I want?

Delivering it to the home seemed like a bad idea. My wife, already suspicious of my excesses, was sure to use this as evidence against me in the future, despite my confidence that I could rationalize the purchase. So I had it sent to work. I could have a piece or two each day in the office to give me a little boost. The 12-pack should last a long time. I clicked. 

Two days later (thanks to Amazon Prime’s free shipping), the goods arrived. I cleared out a privileged space in my desk drawer alongside some pens and a stapler and went back to work. 

I’ve never been one to hear voices per se, but there seemed to be an unknown force pulling me toward the drawer. Like a “spidey-sense,” but for chocolate. I opened the first package and tried to break off two pieces, but three ended up coming off. Close enough, I thought. It’s time for a morning snack, anyway. 

They seemed to disappear so quickly. I was still hungry, maybe even hungrier. A few more couldn’t hurt. 

The thing about this stuff is that it tricks you. The little triangles seem so small. They don’t fill you up right away. Soon, you end up eating the whole bar. Then, about 20 minutes or so later, the effects come over you like a tidal wave. You feel a little queazy. There is a distinct message from your brain saying, “stop whatever you’re doing…you’ve already done too much of it!” But it’s too late. The damage is done.

I realized the only solution was to get rid of this black magic. I tried parlaying some off on my office-mate, Carl. Usually, Carl will eagerly agree to consume anything I passed over the desk, but he happened to pick this month to start watching what he was eating a little more closely. I could get a few triangles a day rerouted to his workspace, but the rest remained close by. I felt my energy drained, as if it were kryptonite rather than chocolate. The only treatment for my fatigue, of course, was to give in to the impulse to bite into yet another bar.

After several weeks (fewer than I care to admit), I’m finally done with the stuff. Never again will I give in to such foolishness.

Unless, of course, it’s a really good deal on really good chocolate. 

In an attempt to find a simultaneously palatable and nutritious breakfast for my son, I intently scanned the frozen foods section of the local Whole Foods. Ah…organic whole grain waffles. All the right buzzwords. Organic…always a good thing, right? In truth I’ve never been much of an organomaniac. I’m fine loading my body with preservatives, but somehow it’s different when you are responsible for someone else’s nutrition. Whole grain? How can you go wrong with that? Grain is all American, and it’s certainly better to have the “whole” of something than only part of it, no?

Seriously, just adding the words “whole grain” to any food somehow justify its consumption. You could have whole grain egg nog with whipped cream and some how it would be okay (I hope you noggers realize that it’s basically eggs with cream). Waffles to me are the quintessential breakfast foods. They are to pancakes what espresso is to regular coffee. First, they add an element of class. I’m still not sure what makes Belgian waffles different from other waffles, but I would rather say I’m eating Belgian waffles. It’s more likely to elicit an “oooh!” Second, they require a (potentially) expensive piece of a equipment to make, which is always a plus in my book.

Well, that equipment is required when you make them yourself. Which isn’t what I was doing. I was just picking the pre-pressed variety off the shelf from the frozen goods aisle. I should have given Owen more credit. He saw right through the “feel good about your health” label and rejected the cardboard-tasting discus outright. Which of course left me with the burden of consuming the surprisingly large number of waffles contained in the box.

What to do with dry, uninspired waffles? Waffles…waffles…waffle cones, of course! My mind was racing and soon I was hastily scooping coffee-flavored ice cream onto a freshly toasted waffle. Surprisingly delicious. And nutritious, of course (whole wheat, you remember). We’ll see if I can keep this up and still fit into my pants. Two waffles to go.

Joe Lieberman: “I Personally Checked John McCain’s Bearings”: “I just want to report that this morning I personally checked John McCain’s bearings. He has not lost any of them. They are all in really great shape.”

I’m not even going to comment on this one.

Sen. Clinton and the Campaign - New York Times: “Yes, there is a pattern — a familiar and unpleasant one. It is up to Mrs. Clinton to change it if she hopes to have any shot at winning the nomination or preserving her integrity and her influence if she loses.”

It goes straight to a fundraising form. For reals.

Back in college, I was a big fan of a band called “Cause and Effect.” They were reminiscent of Depeche Mode, but had a slightly different sound which mutated after one of their two members died of an asthma attack. When they regrouped as a trio and released a second album, the first single was a track called “It’s Over Now”.

“I guess it’s over now
I think we’ve reached the end”

That song came to mind after yesterday’s Democratic primary results emerged. I expected (and predicted) that Clinton would win Indiana while Obama would triumph in North Carolina, but this so called “split decision” was nothing of the sort. It was an Obama victory, pure and simple. After trimming Clinton’s margin to 2 percentage points in Indiana while hoisting the trophy of a 14-point North Carolina victory, Obama’s speech felt like a victory speech. Even after a few minutes, one fact became evident.

Obama’s back.

This was not the tip-toeing, cautious, defensive Obama of the past several weeks when he was dogged by Reverend Wright’s damaging speeches. This was the confident, assertive Obama of “Houston, I think we’ve achieved liftoff” of the post-Wisconson era.

What happened? Clinton NEEDED a decisive victory last night to stay competitive by any stretch of the imagination (in reality. let’s face it, it’s been a long shot for some time now). She needed to chip away at Obama’s lead. It didn’t happen. Will she bow out? Probably not. Why should she? Even if there’s the slimmest of chances that some disaster could befall Obama, why drop out? Look, even Ron Paul is still in the race.

Staying in keeps Clinton in the national spotlight, even if it’s at the edge of the spotlight. The spotlight is where you have to be to succeed in politics, and Clinton has still got plenty of time to build her career in the Senate (and even to plan a future White House run). She can keep pressure on her to drop out to a minimum by cutting down the anti-Obama rhetoric. There’s less pressure now that the hope of victory appears to have slipped completely out of reach.

It’s over now. And it’s all right with me.

Barack Obama today dealt his rival Hillary Clinton a devastating blow with a decisive win in the critical territory of Guam. This territory is thought of by many as a political bellwether and was seen as a “must win” for Clinton. With a final vote tally of 2264 to 2257, Obama not only won, but did so with an impressive 7-vote margin. Many political pundits, as well as superdelgates, were watching this race closely. The results do not spell good news for Clinton’s flagging campaign, which clung to a recent victory in Pennsylvania in an attempt to reenergize. Had she been able to keep Obama’s margin within 1-2 votes, she might have been able to stem the now-expected tide of superdelegates to Obama’s camp. Her only hope now is to cling to an expected victory in Indiana’s upcoming primary as evidence that her campaign still has some credibility. For many Democratic Party insiders, however, this will likely be too little, too late.