I'm a free man

While I can't say that I'm now 100% smoke free, I can honestly say that I'm no longer a smoker.

It's been 19 days now and I've only smoked on three occasions - all while drinking and out with friends. I don't mind smoking while I drink, not at all. I don't hog down a whole pack of smokin' joes - about one per drink or so I've been trying to keep it.

I feel good. My lungs have obviously shed the majority of their flem and I don't get pains in my chest anymore when I ride to work.

This is where I want to be and I'm happy.

I can't say where this blog will go now, as I've pretty much done what I've set out to do with it - quit my daily smoke routine.

So for now we'll say "Write your paper, Terminator" and see if anyone gets it.

Killa,

Beez.

"HAH-HAH!" and then she wrote "Success!"

I made it through a whole 24 hour period of not smoking yesterday. Actually, I haven't touched a bone-pony since around 5am Thursday morning...

So I've reset the counter to the last cigarette I had and we'll see how that goes. I've sworn off smoking and this time for good. I knew I would quit as soon as I got to hating it again, and finally I do. I built a fire Wednesday night, opened a beer and was sitting around that flaming fixture enjoying the humidity and glazy blaze of a fire when I decided I should light myself up a stickotine...

The smoke was thick and I could barely inhale the necessary oxygen between hits. I soldiered through it, but kept my smoking to a minimum throughout the night, until later at a bar when Bob, like a dick, pulled the release on the cigarette machine for a pack of Camel Filters. Drunken, I nearly finished the whole pack that night.

The next morning I woke up hating the part of me that is too weak to stop this rank addiction and disgusted at cigarettes in general.

So I haven't smoked since then and haven't had the desire to do so, either.

Which is good for this.

The Move

Today's the day. No more bullarking or piddly winking around. I'm just straight up, cold as a dead turkey's ass quitting.

My nose is gushing flem. My lungs are whispering "Save me, I can't stand to sit" from desperate clinging to try and fulfill there position as chief breathers. My eyes burn and my fingers stink and I hate it and so I'm done.

I'm also retiring from drinking for awhile, too. Until I beat the smoking game. It's just no fun.

You know what big Willy says, "Parents just don't understand." Well, it's true. And irrelevant.

I turned in the license plate to my Neon yesterday. And I'm giving the Mustang up tonight. I canceled my car insurance and will spend tonight oiling up my bike. I'll show Tristan the ropes. I'll be a lean, mean, bike riding machine for the rest of the summer.

The first few days are going to be rough, burning the engrained tar out of my lungs. I wonder how black and charred they look. I almost want to see. That would be a major deterant. The doctor said it was pretty much a no-go, though. He said that maybe I could get an X-ray but who has time for x-rays? I didn't, not last month, and now I don't have a car and am trying to save up my cash to go to distant lands.

Well, I'm off to lunch and not smoke.

Where I'm at with respect to *breathe* in *choke* out

I can't even finish an entire cigarette anymore. That's good. I had a few ideas to help me quit. One was that I would smoke cigarettes without nicotine, so that the physical addiction would have time to subside while I still had the comfort of suckling a butt with my lips like a tit moth to a spurting flame. Then I had no idea what that meant and I was in need of nico the tine and Bob sold me a pack of Camel Wide Lights. That helped. They're awful. So I can't finish even a whole one. I'm getting to the point where I don't enjoy smoking, it disgusts me, and that's where I need to be.

In a few days I'll relinquish my right to drive via cancelling my car insurance and giving away the Mustang and begin riding my bike. A few pedals and my lungs will be scream "Hellish Mary!" and I'll be sure to remember not to smoke on the frequent. Hopefully that helps.

Soon I'll be gone. A major change of life and destination. What will happen? What will I replace this addiction with? Do I need to replace it with anything, or can it just go away? What happens to the spot where it used to fill? I wonder, does it get collapsed in on by various other things, love, drama, running errands, watching TV, thinking...or does it just cease to exist. I tend to think of my brain like a computer, with various files in various folders. Windows XP: Nathan's Brain Edition.

That's a bit depressing. Lunchtime means the threat of possibly smoking. Ba dumm...

The final plan! HAVAT THEE!

Okay "Nathan Quits Smoking v. 17.5.8.323.a.D9B squared"

I'm about to go on this long road trip. I can't stop smoking for that. I like to smoke while driving, and I'll be doing a lot of driving. Also, I just plain old like to smoke.

But when I get back I'll be cancelling my car insurance and giving the Mustang away and riding my bike every single day until I'm all six packs and pink lungs. The second part being the most important. It's going to burn my lungs for the first few days. But that feels good. I'm going to drastically reduce my smoking during this time period. I need to conquer it in order to live with it. And I don't feel like I can eliminate it for good, so I just need to eliminate it, for one day maybe. Just beat it for one day to prove that I can. Then at some point I can try two.

But let's not get too far ahead of ourselves.

Two minus One equals Zero

So, upon inspecting my wallet for 1s, 20s and 100 dollar bills yesterday, I discovered that, after paying for gas in my guzzler of a car, I was left with just enough money to buy cigarettes. Now, one pack of cigarettes isn't going to tide me over until Thursday, not at the rate I smoke and not with a big weekend ahead.

But alas, I perused the local corner stores until "AHA! Have at ye young distillers of fine purveyance!" I came across the Kwikest of Fills, a mart so generous and forthgoing that, in turn for firing my flatmate, they decided to strike me a buy one get one deal to entice me back into their salesmanship. Typically I would not be swayed by such half-fevered attempts and skullduggery, but when it comes to the Nicholas Tine, I am at times weak.

I purchased the BOGO deal, a pack of Turkish Golds with a complimentary pack attached (and the writing on the label to prove it) and returned home, content with my fridge full of beer and my belly and lungs filling with much anticipated smoke.

Things went fine, for the night, laughs were had at times and smiles were shared between many a folk. While sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a dinner prepared by myself and my son, the boy said something like "Why did you buy those cigarettes?"

"To smoke them."

"But why did you buy both packs?"

"They were buy one get one free..." and the conversation went on from there. I slid the pack that had yet to be open across the table and out of his reach. The night continued. I smoked two of my cigarettes from the opened pack. The rest I left rest on the table. Night came over me and I retired into sleep.

The dreams of a man satisfied that his nicotine needs would be fulfilled for the next week were sweet and the waking moments pleasant. I made a motion for the downstairs floor after waking and slipped around the corner of the kitchen to, "EEEEEK!" find an empty space where there once sat a completely full pack of unopened Turkish Golds.

Unhappiness ensued...

This guy knows what it's like.

Hey look, it's a post

So I've taken time out of my busy day to post here. I'm a chain smoking maniac with nice firm calves and don't you ever forget it.

Actually, I don't have much to say, and was thinking about mentioning something about the study that I read about on Yummy but seriously, no one reads this except for people who already read yummy so what's the point?

That's a question, so answer it.