2004-09-08

Ooookay, all y'all. Sooo. HeckaFresh (who hasn't updated in, like, ten years) and I decided it would be a brilliant idea to quit smoking on Labor Day. It was! It is! And life is meaningless!

Yup, I'm here to inform you that without smoky treats to break up your day, without smoky treats to fulfill your phantom itch, Life. Means. Nothing.

Okay, drama, I know, haha? I quit four years ago, a lonely girl in a sea of world, and it lasted four torturous months. Here (old diary, broken image, carnival, etc) is a sample entry I wrote during that period, full of glorious insight and astute observations, entitled "jonesin' like a mofo."

The thing is, at that time, I passed from misery to depressions to mutilation to more misery and then * aaaaaa * I saw the light.

It came in the form of a torrential rainstorm in downtown San Francisco. I walked with an umbrella to my nearest happy hour after work, and some poor yuppie smoker huddled under a concrete awning, sucking it up.

His cigarette looked weird as he lifted it to his lips. Like it didn't belong there.

And that's when I knew I had crossed over.

Anyway, I had saved a pack of cigarettes that I bought in Poland (ah, but it is just a souvenir, no?), and that's eventually how I broke down.

The lesson: be vigilant, forever. I think today is hard? HA. Today is easy. I know I'm not gonna smoke, and I'm not. Four months from now? When the smooth white stick looks displaced in mouths, when I only dream subconsciously of it? That's the devil.

Speaking of the devil, back to Life Is Meaningless. HERE'S WHY SMOKING IS STUPID. Because you give it up, and you lose your place. You lose your grasp. Sure, I'm still kicking ass at work (Hi, boys. Yup, air conditioner was broken, popsicles were great, thanks for asking!) and practicing my music and walking the dog and living quote-unquote life. But how the fuck do you normal people do it?

"You call that fulfilling? MWAH HA HA HA. You try that life, and put this in your mouth. Better, yeah? Yeah. Better."

I think the only way I can make it is if I drink a bottle of wine (gimme a fix, any fix, stat!) downwind from a chain smoker. How perfect for me that I live in the ghetto. Suddenly, baby, I got me some big plans.