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Jan. 22nd, 2006 09:43 amI am so frustrated. And you are all going to laugh mercilessly at me when you find out why.
I'm not stridently for or against smoking; I do think that out of common courtesy you oughtn't to do it inside unless you know everyone in the room (including waitstaff) is a smoker. Other than that, it's your money and lungs. People do much worse things in the pursuit of pleasure.
So, I don't smoke, though for years I hung out with smokers to the point where when I would go home from the summer I would go through withdrawal from not breathing second-hand. None of my family smokes, including Lucky, who quit when mum said either the Marlboro Man went or she did. But I have smoked, about fourteen times in the last seven years, on momentous occasions such as opening nights and to annoy my professors. The nice thing about this is that every time you get an incredibly heady rush because you haven't built up any tolerance to the tobacco.
Yes, I'm well aware of how bad it is, I've seen the tar-scarred lungs in Body Worlds, my gran died of cancer and she smoked for years et fucking, as Lovejoy says, cetera. I'm pretty sure half a pack in seven years doesn't really qualify as a habit.
Anyhow. Last night I had a dream that I was in Boston, walking down the street in Jamaica Plain where I lived a few summers ago. At the bottom of the hill, near the T station, was a smoke shop and I decided hey, it's been a while, I'll have a smoke. I bought a pack of menthols (stfu) and the only lighter they had left, which was rusty and half-empty. I decided to have a meal while I smoked so I walked back to a little Cuban cafe nearby and ordered a sandwich. I sat down outside with a soda and my cigarettes to wait for my sandwich. I put the cigarette between my lips and flicked the lighter.
At this point I awoke in terror because thunder had crashed directly over the house and set off three separate car alarms outside my window.
Goddammit. This thunderstorm was supposed to happen every night last week and it kept stalling and stalling and it couldn't wait three more minutes while I had a subconscious cigarette? I was really looking forward to that, you fucking low-pressure system!
And on a lighter note, scenes from my family #638:
Mum: OH MY GOD!
Sam and sibs: What what what?
Mum: Oh, it's okay. I just saw this cat go flying through the air in the neighbours' backyard.
Sam: What?
Mum: No, it's just a stuffed toy they were throwing around.
Sam: And not a catapult?
( Comment conservation )
I'm not stridently for or against smoking; I do think that out of common courtesy you oughtn't to do it inside unless you know everyone in the room (including waitstaff) is a smoker. Other than that, it's your money and lungs. People do much worse things in the pursuit of pleasure.
So, I don't smoke, though for years I hung out with smokers to the point where when I would go home from the summer I would go through withdrawal from not breathing second-hand. None of my family smokes, including Lucky, who quit when mum said either the Marlboro Man went or she did. But I have smoked, about fourteen times in the last seven years, on momentous occasions such as opening nights and to annoy my professors. The nice thing about this is that every time you get an incredibly heady rush because you haven't built up any tolerance to the tobacco.
Yes, I'm well aware of how bad it is, I've seen the tar-scarred lungs in Body Worlds, my gran died of cancer and she smoked for years et fucking, as Lovejoy says, cetera. I'm pretty sure half a pack in seven years doesn't really qualify as a habit.
Anyhow. Last night I had a dream that I was in Boston, walking down the street in Jamaica Plain where I lived a few summers ago. At the bottom of the hill, near the T station, was a smoke shop and I decided hey, it's been a while, I'll have a smoke. I bought a pack of menthols (stfu) and the only lighter they had left, which was rusty and half-empty. I decided to have a meal while I smoked so I walked back to a little Cuban cafe nearby and ordered a sandwich. I sat down outside with a soda and my cigarettes to wait for my sandwich. I put the cigarette between my lips and flicked the lighter.
At this point I awoke in terror because thunder had crashed directly over the house and set off three separate car alarms outside my window.
Goddammit. This thunderstorm was supposed to happen every night last week and it kept stalling and stalling and it couldn't wait three more minutes while I had a subconscious cigarette? I was really looking forward to that, you fucking low-pressure system!
And on a lighter note, scenes from my family #638:
Mum: OH MY GOD!
Sam and sibs: What what what?
Mum: Oh, it's okay. I just saw this cat go flying through the air in the neighbours' backyard.
Sam: What?
Mum: No, it's just a stuffed toy they were throwing around.
Sam: And not a catapult?
( Comment conservation )
