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| CHOICE |  | Category: Personal
Thursday, November 18th, 2004 @ 03:16 pm
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 There's
a large difference between being a non-smoker and an ex-smoker.
While there's the entire urge to smoke thing going on with ex-smokers,
there's something below that, something more base, that's extremely
disturbing: the removal of your free will.
What bothers me the most about not smoking is the fact that I can't
smoke. When you're just a non-smoker, this lack of choice doesn't
bother you at all due to the fact that you're not really interested in the other option. When you've quit smoking, you've
effectively removed one of these choices, and even though it's a choice
you don't plan on making, its absence is definitely palpable.
It's sort of like the difference between having no where to go and
owning a car versus having no where to go and not owning any sort of
transportation. Even though you're not going anywhere, you still
feel more confined.
Social smokers are the worst. They shine like the holy grail of
non-smoking, like bright and shining beacons proclaiming that you can
smoke only when you want to. They make if feel like you can still choose
to smoke one day, and have that one day not reflect on your status as a
smoker. It's bullshit. Social smokers should be called
pre-smokers. I've never met an ex-smoker who could contain their smoking
to strictly social settings, but I've met tons of people, me included,
who were once social smokers, and have since turned into raging fucking chimneys.
I know if I tried to smoke socially, or just smoke
when I drank, it would take me less than a month to be right back at a
pack a day habit. I know, because two of the times
I've quit, this is the exact route I took in starting back up
again.
The sad part of all of this is that the more I think about it, the more
I'm realizing that quitting smoking is almost like being a recovering
alcoholic in that you're never really done with
smoking, you
deal with the addiction for the rest of your life whether you still
indulge in it or not. I really just want to go through my withdrawal and
be done with it, fully expecting a few rough nights here and there, but
definitely not haunting me for the rest of my life.
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| SMOKING | | Category: Personal
Wednesday, November 17th, 2004 @ 09:56 pm
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 It's
been two days. My vision will narrow from time to time.
Every time I consciously think about it, my feet begin to go
numb. I feel every muscle in my body constantly telling me that
something is really fucking wrong.
My body has had the constant influence of a controlled substance for over
ten years now. Ten years, wow. For ten years (with
intermittent small breaks every handful of years) I have not
experienced life without external chemicals to create an artificial
calm about me.
As I sit here typing this, I feel like I'm dying. I'm in a room,
drinking, with three smokers. With every sip of my beer, my blood
pressure drops and my body begins demanding that I raise it through the
usual means. With every pull they take off their coffin nails, I
look down at my hand half expecting there to be a stogie smoldering
away already.
This is going to be tough, but I'm hoping I can actually pull it off
this time. This time I'm actually pissed off that something I've
taken for granted for so long has this much of an effect on me. I want to be free.
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| SCREWED AGAIN! | | Category: Personal
Thursday, October 14th, 2004 @ 11:05 am
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 Well, I'm fucked. As if it wasn't bad enough that I have no car and have to ride this rusty steed to work everyday, the gods saw fit to debase me further.
I was riding home along West Esplanade from my brother's house the other day, tooling along around 45mph, when I was greeted by the most curious sound emanating from the rear of my bike. It's hard to describe, but it sounded a bit like getting a small child caught in the spokes of my rear wheel. Well, basically what I heard was a lot of thumping and grinding, but one must be careful when one uses words like "thumping and grinding", so I shot for the baby analogy.
I pulled over to see if I indeed had a small child in the rear wheel area, but alas, I could find nothing, so I continued on my journey home. Once home I tried to reexamine my situation but still came up empty handed.
The next morning, buffeted by the light of day, I went out to finalize my detective work, but when I stepped out the door it was quite apparent from its state of inflatedness that my tire had been raped by some sort of debris. I had to get to work, so there was no time to worry about it just then, I would have to wait until that afternoon to operate.
When I got home, I opened up the ol' toolbox and got to work. Using a pair of pliers I got it out about a half inch, but it seemed pretty determined to stop there. Using my amazing powers of intellect, I realized that it was probably the threads on the screw stopping it, so I pulled out a flathead screwdriver and began unscrewing it out of my tire.
Four inches later, I freed this monster from its galvanized, rubbery tomb.
I had this tire replaced around 4 years ago, and I know the replacement costs with labor are around $200, so I'm a bit hesitant to replace it at this point. I don't want to keep sinking money into this pile of shit, so I guess I'll just go buy a tire plug kit and see how long it lasts me.
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| THE REGIMEN II | | Category: Personal
Monday, June 7th, 2004 @ 05:00 pm
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 Well, it's been about two weeks now since I restarted my program of "less eating like a fucking pig" and "less drinking like a fucking fish" and more "doing stuff." I haven't really seen a change in my weight mainly because I haven't weighed myself in a good eight months or so. Last I saw, I was somewhere between 200 and 210 (that's pounds for you limey bastards across the pond).
I do believe I've seen a little thinning of the waist line, but there's a good chance that it's purely psychological. I certainly feel a lot better, especially during the day at work (no more dying for a nap around 1pm), but I'm sure that's from cutting all the drinking out during the week.
Of course, keep in mind I didn't start this off as some huge fucking sack of man meat; while overweight, I'm not obese, which Webster defines as "excessively fat," so I'm sure no one will be seeing major changes in my appearance. Then again, in that definition it's hard to tell where the definition "fat" ends and "excessive" begins. Guess I'll leave it up to the philosophers.
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| THE REGIMEN | | Category: Personal
Thursday, May 27th, 2004 @ 01:50 pm
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 I've decided to restart my small health regimen that afforded me the pleasure of dropping twenty or so pounds two years ago.
Mainly, what I did was eat less, do sit-ups and push-ups everyday (amounts for each incrementing as my ability warranted), and cut out alcohol during the weekdays. I think I'm going to tweak it a bit and just drink when the situation calls for it, which means it could fall on a weekday. On the flip side of that coin is that when I did this before, I was drinking when the weekend hit, no matter if I was at a friends house, out on the town, or sitting around in my boxers at 11am on a Sunday, it was the weekend and I was going to get my fucking drink on.
I think If I allow myself to drink if I go out on a Thursday, yet not drink if I'm just sitting around my house midday on a Saturday, I can achieve the same level of intake while at the same time enjoying a much more flexible lifestyle. Sounds like a plan.
PS: If that image looks all crappy with a gray background, that's because it's a aphablended .png image and you're using crappy-assed Internet Explorer. download a real browser(with automatic pop-up blocking built in!) and see what the future looks like.
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