Saturday, October 10, 2009
Howdy Howdy, Smoke and Rowdy
Well, well, well...it's been a month and what has changed in my tobacco addicted life? Um, that would be nothing. Well, actually one thing did change. The amount of smokers in my life has increased.; my boyfriend has a new roommate who smokes and his other roommate decided to pick up the habit. But here's the good news! The bf's two roommates bum cigarettes off me every time they hear me go to the balcony to smoke- consequently taking more cigarettes from my pack even though I'm buying at the same rate. That means I'm cutting back! Hooray lungs!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Second Coming
Well, well, well. When I last left you, I was cigarette sober for a week and you'll be proud to know I kept it up...for three weeks. On my birthday, I allowed myself to have a few cigarettes while I was drinking and that snow balled into bumming cigarettes for about a week until I finally gave in to the savory taste of the cancer stick. So I will begin to keep a more updated blog as I half-heartedly try to quit smoking yet again.
Please be aware of the following changes for round two of attempting to quit:
Please be aware of the following changes for round two of attempting to quit:
- I don't smoke American Spirits anymore! That means I'm really addicted, or poor. Probably both.
- My friend was released from jail and I'm the happiest girl in the world now! And he buys me cigarettes! But before you hate his aiding and abetting ass for buying them for me, remember I'm the happiest girl in the world and you don't want to ruin that do you....DO YOU?!
- My job has changed three times, which is important to the amount I smoke per day. Originally, I was probably at a half a pack per day. When I went to work for WRP, I definitely smoked a pack a day. Thankfully, that ended and I'm now at TP, and since I'm new, I'm uncomfortable with taking smoke breaks, so now I'm at about a 1/3 pack per day!
- The last time I quit smoking I had a "quit coach" provided by my employer. Unfortunately, I no longer have that job and since I'm not going to invest in a "quit coach" (which is really just an operator that tells you to eat hard candy whenever you're having a craving) I no longer have one of those either.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Cold Turkey. Week One.
Well, I did it. I quit smoking cigarettes cold turkey exactly one week ago and you know what? IT FUCKING SUCKS. Quitting cigarettes is such a mind fuck. First, there is the withdrawal from nicotine. Then, the realization of oral fixation sets in. Next, you find yourself eating french fries way more than you normally would and weighing ten pounds more than you did the week before! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?! I am way too vein to gain weight instead of smoking cigarettes. Yeah, I said it. I'm that shallow.
Okay- that all may have been somewhat of an exaggeration. I didn't gain ten pounds, but I seriously have been eating so many french fries. The whole hand-to-mouth thing is driving me up the wall.
Because I work for the best company ever! I have free access to a quit coach and extra materials to "help me on road to recovery." Yes, that is exactly what my "quit coach" said. She is very nice and told me to try eating nuts and hard candy instead of chewing gum. She said this way I'll be bringing my hand to my mouth and satisfying that urge. Well see how this goes in another week.
And this is a trend that's sweeping the city! My jailbird friend is not only picking up Spanish while he's locked up, he's also quitting smoking cigarettes too! I told him when he gets out we will sit together and not smoke. Yeah, yeah yeah I'm awesome.
I need a fucking cigarette.
Okay- that all may have been somewhat of an exaggeration. I didn't gain ten pounds, but I seriously have been eating so many french fries. The whole hand-to-mouth thing is driving me up the wall.
Because I work for the best company ever! I have free access to a quit coach and extra materials to "help me on road to recovery." Yes, that is exactly what my "quit coach" said. She is very nice and told me to try eating nuts and hard candy instead of chewing gum. She said this way I'll be bringing my hand to my mouth and satisfying that urge. Well see how this goes in another week.
And this is a trend that's sweeping the city! My jailbird friend is not only picking up Spanish while he's locked up, he's also quitting smoking cigarettes too! I told him when he gets out we will sit together and not smoke. Yeah, yeah yeah I'm awesome.
I need a fucking cigarette.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Back in Black
It's been a long while since I've updated (typical blog cliche I never wanted to give into,) but that's because I went on a month long binge of all bad things including but not limited to drinking, smoking, sexing, drugging, rocking and rolling. As they say in France, today shit hit the fan.
Originally, this blog was about trying to quit smoking, but I am going to deviate from the norm for a hot minute and discuss what led me to smoking so regularly and where that has put me now. I was the girl they sang about in country songs, I only smoked when I drank. However, I drank a lot and therefore smoked a lot and figured out that a cigarette when you're hung over is just as good as a cigarette when you're drunk; and a cigarette sober is just as good as a cigarette hung over. So it goes (KV.)
As previously stated, I drink a lot. No big deal, I'm of age, though still young. I [typically] stay safe, though I do have a few run-ins with authority here and there. And it doesn't impinge upon my work or my relationships, so I thought. About a month ago, my friend quit drinking because she lost her purse and keys while she was black out drunk. Luckily, the bar had them and she was able to continue her life without many repercussions. Two weeks ago, I had to pick a friend up from a street corner at 2am because he was black out drunk and didn't have a way home. When I got there, I found that he had lost his iPhone. Luckily for him, he was also able to retrieve it (for the price of a cheeseburger thanks to a homeless woman and a pimp who jumped into the catch basin where it had fallen.) Last weekend, I blacked out at a bar, puked and skipped out on my best friend's birthday party because in that state, I only wanted more sex, more drugs and more rock and roll. C'est la vie.
I went to the hospital this morning and found out I had pneumonia. A probable consequence of the amount of cigarettes I had been smoking lately- about a pack every two days. This may not seem like a lot but apparently it is when you have "messy lungs" as the hospital called them. I can't go back to work for a few days because they have me on a profusion of medicine. I decide I'm going to spend this time lying by the pool reading and thinking about how I got to this point.
I'm on page 21 of my new book and my friend approaches me. He just got out of jail. He was arrested for drunk driving last night and was told he was going to serve 45 days in LA county. The police station botched his paper work and accidentally let him out. We had a few cigarettes to ease his stress. I turned around, and there were the cops looking for him to take him back to jail.
This blog is about my continued half-hearted attempt to quit cigarettes and my whole-hearted concern for the direction of my life.
Next post will be happy, promise.
[edit/] If you know anyone recently married or getting married in the next month, send them my way.
Originally, this blog was about trying to quit smoking, but I am going to deviate from the norm for a hot minute and discuss what led me to smoking so regularly and where that has put me now. I was the girl they sang about in country songs, I only smoked when I drank. However, I drank a lot and therefore smoked a lot and figured out that a cigarette when you're hung over is just as good as a cigarette when you're drunk; and a cigarette sober is just as good as a cigarette hung over. So it goes (KV.)
As previously stated, I drink a lot. No big deal, I'm of age, though still young. I [typically] stay safe, though I do have a few run-ins with authority here and there. And it doesn't impinge upon my work or my relationships, so I thought. About a month ago, my friend quit drinking because she lost her purse and keys while she was black out drunk. Luckily, the bar had them and she was able to continue her life without many repercussions. Two weeks ago, I had to pick a friend up from a street corner at 2am because he was black out drunk and didn't have a way home. When I got there, I found that he had lost his iPhone. Luckily for him, he was also able to retrieve it (for the price of a cheeseburger thanks to a homeless woman and a pimp who jumped into the catch basin where it had fallen.) Last weekend, I blacked out at a bar, puked and skipped out on my best friend's birthday party because in that state, I only wanted more sex, more drugs and more rock and roll. C'est la vie.
I went to the hospital this morning and found out I had pneumonia. A probable consequence of the amount of cigarettes I had been smoking lately- about a pack every two days. This may not seem like a lot but apparently it is when you have "messy lungs" as the hospital called them. I can't go back to work for a few days because they have me on a profusion of medicine. I decide I'm going to spend this time lying by the pool reading and thinking about how I got to this point.
I'm on page 21 of my new book and my friend approaches me. He just got out of jail. He was arrested for drunk driving last night and was told he was going to serve 45 days in LA county. The police station botched his paper work and accidentally let him out. We had a few cigarettes to ease his stress. I turned around, and there were the cops looking for him to take him back to jail.
This blog is about my continued half-hearted attempt to quit cigarettes and my whole-hearted concern for the direction of my life.
Next post will be happy, promise.
[edit/] If you know anyone recently married or getting married in the next month, send them my way.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
reason 6
I'm standing outside after hours people watching and having a smoke. A little man begins to walk toward me and past the handicap ramp I'm leaning against. A moment goes by. The little man returns and asks to get a cigarette. I give him one and he says thanks to the "beautiful lady." The sun is setting and I flung my head back to expose my neck to the fading rays. The little man is back. This time he is a carrying a rose he plucked from the rose bush surrounding the company's sign. He said "A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady" handed me the white rose and walked away.
A week later I was enjoying a cigarette midday. The man from the mail room came outside. He likes to smokes cloves. Since he's having a lady cigar and my cigs are slow burning we talk about life. What life? His life. He told me his life story. He was in prison for three years. He was a street pharmacist for fifteen years. After a string of tickets and getting caught driving with a suspended license, it's jail time or a $6,000 fine, neither of which he can afford, if he's seen behind the wheel. He lives an hour away from work in a car. He takes the bus.
reason 6: Strange times with strange men.
[edit/] The man from the mail room informed me a week later that they were giving away margaritas and Coronas on the fourth floor, so I partially excused the autobiography he recited.
A week later I was enjoying a cigarette midday. The man from the mail room came outside. He likes to smokes cloves. Since he's having a lady cigar and my cigs are slow burning we talk about life. What life? His life. He told me his life story. He was in prison for three years. He was a street pharmacist for fifteen years. After a string of tickets and getting caught driving with a suspended license, it's jail time or a $6,000 fine, neither of which he can afford, if he's seen behind the wheel. He lives an hour away from work in a car. He takes the bus.
reason 6: Strange times with strange men.
[edit/] The man from the mail room informed me a week later that they were giving away margaritas and Coronas on the fourth floor, so I partially excused the autobiography he recited.
Friday, March 27, 2009
reason 5
A few friends and I met at a local bar to watch the SU game. About a quarter of the way through my FIRST beer, a friend and I went to have a cigarette. I make it through my first one, and since I was feeling eager and unsatisfied, I light another. Bad idea. As my friend is explaining the premise of his screenplay, I start to feel dizzy. I should tell him, I thought. However, I only had this thought and didn't actually act upon it. What, you ask, did I do instead? Oh, it was much better. I fainted. That's right, I was THAT girl passed out on the sidewalk at 6:30 in the afternoon. And don't think I'm trying to copy the likes of early Paris Hilton or pre-rehab Lindsay. I was much more glamorous about it; mostly because the sun was still out and my sunglasses flew off my face.
The next thing I remember I heard someone calling my name, but could only see black. At this point not only did I think I was blind, I was really confused because I thought "How is this empty black mass calling my name and what the fuck does it want from me?" When I woke up, my friend informed me that I had in fact not gone blind but just fainted (duh, silly!) Although, he did think I was having a seizure because apparently my lips were moving while I was passed out. We were both very confused as to what was going on.
Now, many things may have caused me to faint. Most notably, the fact that I am hypoglycemic (and borderline diabetic) and hadn't eaten since noon. That would make sense, since I've fainted before for that reason. But I'm going to blame it, as Kerry drunkenly did, on my cigarettes. It's actually the fault of the slow burning American Spirits I smoke which left me in the hot sun, dehydrated and sucking on they're long lasting, all-natural, no additives goodness.
In other words, reason #5 to quit smoking is to avoid utter embarrassment. Sure, it's cute when you faint, but not when you faint and then appear to mumble tongues in a state of coma. In front of a boy. That's just sloppy. Uh, FAIL. FAIL. FAIL.
The next thing I remember I heard someone calling my name, but could only see black. At this point not only did I think I was blind, I was really confused because I thought "How is this empty black mass calling my name and what the fuck does it want from me?" When I woke up, my friend informed me that I had in fact not gone blind but just fainted (duh, silly!) Although, he did think I was having a seizure because apparently my lips were moving while I was passed out. We were both very confused as to what was going on.
Now, many things may have caused me to faint. Most notably, the fact that I am hypoglycemic (and borderline diabetic) and hadn't eaten since noon. That would make sense, since I've fainted before for that reason. But I'm going to blame it, as Kerry drunkenly did, on my cigarettes. It's actually the fault of the slow burning American Spirits I smoke which left me in the hot sun, dehydrated and sucking on they're long lasting, all-natural, no additives goodness.
In other words, reason #5 to quit smoking is to avoid utter embarrassment. Sure, it's cute when you faint, but not when you faint and then appear to mumble tongues in a state of coma. In front of a boy. That's just sloppy. Uh, FAIL. FAIL. FAIL.
Friday, March 20, 2009
reason 4
On Tuesday I ended up in the ER for my back. I am stricken with "chronic back pain." That is what I've been told since I was 15. From my first visit to the hospital for my back going out, I have always received a shot in my back to relieve the pain. On Tuesday, this is not how the hospital handled my situation. Instead of giving me the shot I asked for, I was given a shot of a muscle relaxer, a pill that knocked me on my ass (Kerry thinks it was morphine, I could only hope,) two prescriptions for muscle relaxers and a prescription for a painkiller. Needless to say, since then I have been at home lying on my back, on the floor with my sunglasses on in a mindless daze (because my medicine not only makes my eyes light sensitive but also stupefies my mind beyond oblivion.) Bored with TV and out of books to read I have spent most of this time pondering why God has done this to me. I have but one activity that I do during the day; getting off the floor and faltering to the balcony for a cigarette. This is my life.
The doctor said on Saturday I should be feeling much better. Let's hope I can trust them as much as the Urban Outfitters T-shirt leads me to believe.
The doctor said on Saturday I should be feeling much better. Let's hope I can trust them as much as the Urban Outfitters T-shirt leads me to believe.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
reason 3
#3
I went outside to have a cigarette and was talking to a woman from the HR department. I clearly wasn't paying attention to what I was doing because when I ashed it landed on my leg. I didn't feel anything burn, so I just brushed it off of the tights. This revealed a tragedy. A loss in my wardrobe and closet. My only pair of plain, black, opaque tights were ruined. They were my favorite (and subsequently my least favorite because they were my only pair.) There, under the ash I brushed off was a hole. I burnt a cigarette hole in my own motherfucking tights. FML
I went outside to have a cigarette and was talking to a woman from the HR department. I clearly wasn't paying attention to what I was doing because when I ashed it landed on my leg. I didn't feel anything burn, so I just brushed it off of the tights. This revealed a tragedy. A loss in my wardrobe and closet. My only pair of plain, black, opaque tights were ruined. They were my favorite (and subsequently my least favorite because they were my only pair.) There, under the ash I brushed off was a hole. I burnt a cigarette hole in my own motherfucking tights. FML
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
reasons for quitting
So in light of recent events aka me starting to smoke cigarettes again, there has been a very serious push to get me to stop from friends and family. They have gone so far as to try to "scare me sober." I have however two other very serious reasons for quitting.
Yesterday I went outside for a cigarette break. In the lobby on my way down, there were approximately a dozen tween skate boys sitting there. Clearly, a casting call. I make my way outside and while I'm trying to lite my cigarette, six of the preteen blonde surfer boys that were sitting inside come outside. Now, I don't like to be bothered when I'm having my cigarette. It's alone time. But I don't mind these boys standing on the other side of the pillar until what happened next. They began to harmonize. Before I knew it the little Ryan Scheckler's were singing "If I ever fall in Love" by Shai. Right behind me. All I was trying to do was enjoy my cigarette. Now, if I'm going to be harassed or serenaded by 11-13 year-old boys each time I have a cigarette, that is definitely a reason to quit. Furthermore, the first verse of that song says "But I was caught up in physical attraction..." Um, hello, you're like 12 years-old, do you even know what physical attraction is you prepubescent child?
The second reason is easily explained by the following conversation.
Kerry: How many packs do you smoke a week?
Me: One
Kerry: How much do they cost?
Me: About $5
Kerry: So that's $20 a month you could be spending on alcohol.
FAIL.
Yesterday I went outside for a cigarette break. In the lobby on my way down, there were approximately a dozen tween skate boys sitting there. Clearly, a casting call. I make my way outside and while I'm trying to lite my cigarette, six of the preteen blonde surfer boys that were sitting inside come outside. Now, I don't like to be bothered when I'm having my cigarette. It's alone time. But I don't mind these boys standing on the other side of the pillar until what happened next. They began to harmonize. Before I knew it the little Ryan Scheckler's were singing "If I ever fall in Love" by Shai. Right behind me. All I was trying to do was enjoy my cigarette. Now, if I'm going to be harassed or serenaded by 11-13 year-old boys each time I have a cigarette, that is definitely a reason to quit. Furthermore, the first verse of that song says "But I was caught up in physical attraction..." Um, hello, you're like 12 years-old, do you even know what physical attraction is you prepubescent child?
The second reason is easily explained by the following conversation.
Kerry: How many packs do you smoke a week?
Me: One
Kerry: How much do they cost?
Me: About $5
Kerry: So that's $20 a month you could be spending on alcohol.
FAIL.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
a bitter (and slightly exaggerated) beginning
I have realized that there is one breakfast that really starts my day right: a cigarette and can of diet coke (quite possibly the best beverage to ever enter my mouth.) This is probably because of my reformed tobacco and long standing caffeine addiction. I can't imagine what condition my teeth are in. One of my best friends, a dental student, would not be proud. Though, it is a step up from other shit I've allowed myself to form a habit of.
Before I moved to LA, everyone told me "It's so green" and "It's so healthy" Are you fucking kidding me? I spent the first nine months after college jumping around Europe and living in NYC, cleaning up. I stopped drinking, I stopped smoking, I stopped dating. I even stopped biting my nails (clearly I have an oral fixation.) Either way, I get to LA and where do I find myself? Drinking a vodka/sprite while I'm blow drying my hair and stopping at Ralph's to get a pack of American Spirits (yellow...blue is for fucking pussies) before I crash some party with a bunch of other SU alumni and fucking some guy I briefly knew in school. It's official, I've reverted and the only thing I'm missing is my wife.
LA is fucking beautiful.
This blog is about quitting smoking, because I will shoot myself before I gain weight/chew nasty tasting gum/have patches all over my body.
Before I moved to LA, everyone told me "It's so green" and "It's so healthy" Are you fucking kidding me? I spent the first nine months after college jumping around Europe and living in NYC, cleaning up. I stopped drinking, I stopped smoking, I stopped dating. I even stopped biting my nails (clearly I have an oral fixation.) Either way, I get to LA and where do I find myself? Drinking a vodka/sprite while I'm blow drying my hair and stopping at Ralph's to get a pack of American Spirits (yellow...blue is for fucking pussies) before I crash some party with a bunch of other SU alumni and fucking some guy I briefly knew in school. It's official, I've reverted and the only thing I'm missing is my wife.
LA is fucking beautiful.
This blog is about quitting smoking, because I will shoot myself before I gain weight/chew nasty tasting gum/have patches all over my body.
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