So. Here's the story.
I was 19.
I had just finished a shift at Eat n' Park (for those of you not in the tri-county area, it's a restaurant chain similar to Denny's...and yes, I know the name makes no sense). A group of coworkers decided to head to King's (another semi-regional restaurant) for coffee and dessert, and they asked me to come along.
I clocked out, stopped the gas station, bought a pack of cigarettes, and met up with the rest of them.
That was my first cigarette. Ever.
Like most first cigarettes, inhaling it was a wretched experience. My throat tightened, I wheezed, and exhaling came with the sudden onset of a terrible headache. It felt like drowning...which is pretty much what I was doing to myself. Then, the nicotine kicked in, and it was smooth sailing.
They were Kamel Reds, by the way. I made my selection based entirely on the packaging.
I bought them knowing that everyone there was also a smoker. Nobody encouraged me. There was no pressure to fit in, and in hindsight I wasn't even sure why I thought it was so important that we share smoking as common ground. Granted, I was a witness at a wedding between two of them, but other than that they were no more than acquaintances.
Soon after I was a regular. I switched to Camel Lights because they were the cigarette of choice among my roommates. I smoked every chance I had, often going over two packs a day. Back then a pack was just $2.50. It was easy to work a few extra bucks into the meager budget of a college student.
My first year out of school I was in a new apartment, with a new roommate, and a new brand (Camel Turkish Gold). I spent nights after work in the smoking section, doing crossword puzzles and drinking free coffee.
I moved on to Marlboro Lights after meeting my future wife and moving to Houston. I guess I was never picky about what I smoked (provided it wasn't menthol). We had a kid. We moved back to Pittsburgh. We got married. We separated. And through it all, I smoked.
Today I'm smoking Marlboro Black 100s. If people see the pack they will ask me what they are, and I will tell them that "they're Marlboro's that are always on sale." Cheap is important when the average pack now costs over $6.00. If it's the weekend or if I work from home, I will still smoke about two packs. If I'm in the office all day I generally go through one pack, smoking every hour or so, with a few extra during lunch break.
I used to think that I smoked out of stress. When I started I was struggling through school. We had medical issues run rampant throughout the family. But there's less truth to that than what I first believed. I smoke because I'm a smoker. I perpetuate my smoking every morning and I keep the ball rolling until I fall asleep. It's something to do while I'm doing something else. It brings about a false sense of multi-tasking, of productivity.
Here's what else it is:
1. It smells goddamn terrible. When you stop smoking for a day or two and smell your clothes, your house, your car...it's the worst odor in the world, and it makes you crave another cigarette despite its stench.
2. It has made me throw up on more than one occasion. Poor lung function, combined with the awesome bi-polar weather in Pittsburgh, often leaves me with a chronic cough every morning. Combine that with coffee and you can imagine the effects of coughing a little too violently.
3. It is eeeeeeexxxxxxpensive. My current choice is a robust $5.04 a pack. On average I'll go through 30 cigarettes a day, or 1.5 packs, which would be $10.08 a day. This year alone I've spent $3679.20 on cigarettes, and that's assuming that I always buy the $5.04 packs (I do not). $3700. That would've been one hell of a vacation.
4. It is generally frowned upon by most of society. A decade ago I could take my smoke breaks in the cafeteria, located in the basement of my office building. Now, I have to go outside, where it's January, in Pittsburgh. And I have to stand 10 feet away from the entrance, leaving me generally exposed to every weather condition that could possibly exist. I cannot smoke in any hotel room that is worth staying in. I cannot smoke after dinner unless I leave the restaurant. I am growing more uncomfortable with being a social pariah, even if I'm rarely alone in those escapades.
5. It is an excuse to not exercise or do other things that healthy people would do. I'm not dumb enough to think that quitting smoking will turn me into a fitness freak. But on more than one occasion I have considered exercising only to think "why bother? I'm smashing a bunch of tar and shit into my lungs."
How does one quit smoking? Beats me. The longest I went without a cigarette was about 10 days, and more than half of those were spent in a hospital, with the worst case of flu any doctor could remember. It was so bad that they had to rule out meningitis (nothing like a spinal tap to make a trip to the ER extra special). When I felt better, I had a cigarette.
What I do know is that my brain has been tricked into think that smoking is normal...that I need that nicotine in order to function. I know that's total bullshit, otherwise EVERYONE WOULD BE A SMOKER. I haven't even spent half of my life smoking. I know that I wasn't missing out on anything from years 1 to 18.
I don't expect to quit tomorrow and then spend the next 365 days smoke free. I will struggle. I will have moments that are particularly stressful and I will want a cigarette...and sometimes, I'll have one. But I will finish the second half of the year as an ex-smoker, at the very least.
When I was a kid, my father smoked. A lot. Maybe more than I did, and not the filtered kind either. He stopped when he was cutting the grass (and smoking) and saw me put a twig between my lips, imitating him.
I don't need my daughter to do the same thing to know that I am not being a great role model.
So that it's. Goal #1: Quit Smoking. Starting on January 3rd. At least I know I won't be alone, thanks to the new year and millions of others making the same promise (including myself, at this same time, last year).
Monday, December 31, 2012
Resolve.
It's the morning of New Year's Eve. In less than 24 hours, this year will be over. Gone. Some memories from 2012 will last a lifetime. Some will be forgotten weeks or months from now. Still, others are already absent, left behind as the normal, the typical, the drudgery of everyday life that won't be missed or remembered fondly.
On this last day of the year, I know I will be alone. Don't cry for me (Argentina). As far as celebratory holidays go, New Years was never a big deal for me. I did the First Night thing once, when I was 15. I've never been to a party that was either a) at someone's house that I wasn't related to or b) included more than five people. The closest I came to a traditional NYE was at a bar in Houston, where the band basically missed the countdown and did their own, minutes after midnight.
I will be in this position because I am a mess. The only thing I seem to really excel at is tricking people into thinking that everything is fantastic, that I'm in control of my life. I'm good at fooling everyone, including myself. For years I have lived under the auspice that nothing can possibly change for the worse. I've got my family, and I've got some friends, and no matter what happens, everything will be okay because of those two things. But stagnancy is just a pretty word for laziness. Things need to be more than just "okay".
Things change, all the time. What was important to you now may not have been so important last year, or ten years ago, and vice-versa. We are all part of some ever-evolving landscape, in society, in nature, and in life. Adapt or die, as Palahniuk would say. But I haven't changed. If you asked me 15 years ago what I contributed to society, I would say that I'm good with numbers, and I'm relatively funny. If you asked me that same question, right now, the answers would be exactly the same.
That's not a good thing.
It's a terrible thing, actually. What I was, fresh out of high school, is not what I should still be. I should be better. I should be MORE. Yes, I'm a father, but what kind of role model am I? I would hate for my kids to grow up to be like me: smart in a handful of ways, desperately inept in many others. Still, this isn't about them. Not really. I mean, the things I do influence them, and there's always hope that self-improvement will improve their lives on some level.
I turned 33 a few days ago. As we grow older milestones become less frequent. We can drive at 16. We can smoke, buy lottery tickets, vote, and countless other things at 18. We become full-fledged adults at 21. We can rent a car at 25 (not really much of a reward for making it to a quarter century). After that, the focus shifts to decades. One might celebrate turning 30, 40, 50, etc., but turning 33 usually means a nice dinner and maybe few gifts (or, if you have parents like mine, a nice lunch and a brand new wardrobe).
Turning 33 just gave me a reason to think of 33 things I want to do this year.
Some are cliched resolutions, others are a little bit off of the beaten path. Some can be completed in minutes or hours, others may take the entire year. But, all of them can be compartmentalized into three categories:
- Things that would improve my life.
- Things that would improve the lives of the people I care about.
- Things that would contribute to society, even on the most arbitrary level.
I haven't felt a sincere sense of accomplishment in forever, and generally that is what has motivated me throughout my life. I've seen where I've ended up without that motivation, and I know it's time. It's time to turn everything around. It's time to be more than just okay. It's time to just be more.
On this last day of the year, I know I will be alone. Don't cry for me (Argentina). As far as celebratory holidays go, New Years was never a big deal for me. I did the First Night thing once, when I was 15. I've never been to a party that was either a) at someone's house that I wasn't related to or b) included more than five people. The closest I came to a traditional NYE was at a bar in Houston, where the band basically missed the countdown and did their own, minutes after midnight.
I will be in this position because I am a mess. The only thing I seem to really excel at is tricking people into thinking that everything is fantastic, that I'm in control of my life. I'm good at fooling everyone, including myself. For years I have lived under the auspice that nothing can possibly change for the worse. I've got my family, and I've got some friends, and no matter what happens, everything will be okay because of those two things. But stagnancy is just a pretty word for laziness. Things need to be more than just "okay".
Things change, all the time. What was important to you now may not have been so important last year, or ten years ago, and vice-versa. We are all part of some ever-evolving landscape, in society, in nature, and in life. Adapt or die, as Palahniuk would say. But I haven't changed. If you asked me 15 years ago what I contributed to society, I would say that I'm good with numbers, and I'm relatively funny. If you asked me that same question, right now, the answers would be exactly the same.
That's not a good thing.
It's a terrible thing, actually. What I was, fresh out of high school, is not what I should still be. I should be better. I should be MORE. Yes, I'm a father, but what kind of role model am I? I would hate for my kids to grow up to be like me: smart in a handful of ways, desperately inept in many others. Still, this isn't about them. Not really. I mean, the things I do influence them, and there's always hope that self-improvement will improve their lives on some level.
I turned 33 a few days ago. As we grow older milestones become less frequent. We can drive at 16. We can smoke, buy lottery tickets, vote, and countless other things at 18. We become full-fledged adults at 21. We can rent a car at 25 (not really much of a reward for making it to a quarter century). After that, the focus shifts to decades. One might celebrate turning 30, 40, 50, etc., but turning 33 usually means a nice dinner and maybe few gifts (or, if you have parents like mine, a nice lunch and a brand new wardrobe).
Turning 33 just gave me a reason to think of 33 things I want to do this year.
Some are cliched resolutions, others are a little bit off of the beaten path. Some can be completed in minutes or hours, others may take the entire year. But, all of them can be compartmentalized into three categories:
- Things that would improve my life.
- Things that would improve the lives of the people I care about.
- Things that would contribute to society, even on the most arbitrary level.
I haven't felt a sincere sense of accomplishment in forever, and generally that is what has motivated me throughout my life. I've seen where I've ended up without that motivation, and I know it's time. It's time to turn everything around. It's time to be more than just okay. It's time to just be more.
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