November 05, 2007
When The Author Finally Quits
Today is my one week smokaversary (just made that up). Yes, I quit smoking. It is a bigger shock to me than to you, I assure you.
I have been happily, shamelessly, blithely puffing away on cigarettes off and on since I was about twelve years old; and I’ve been smoking pretty steadily since I was about 25. Since I have a birthday coming up in the late 40s range, you can probably do the math.
Every year around this time, the idea of quitting crosses my mind for many reasons: I’m not getting any younger and I know the cumulative effect of smoking will eventually catch up to me; cigarettes are getting more ridiculously expensive and I resent supporting the government and fat tobacco barons; and, let’s face it, being a smoker is being a social pariah; never mind that your chances of meeting a nice guy are reduced exponentially.
There were other factors that weighed heavily in my decision to actually quit, including the illnesses and deaths of a couple of close family, and a cancer scare I had earlier in the fall that brought my mortality quite close to home (although planning my funeral was kind of fun).
On Monday October 29, with most of a new carton of cigarettes still in my freezer that I bought with my $5 birthday coupon from Lorillard Tobacco Company (Happy Birthday! We are pleased to give you $5 toward your next carton of cigarettes and cheerfully cut 15 years off your life!), I made the decision to quit for good.
After some research on various methods, I chose laser treatment, which gave me a big endorphin buzz for a few days to get over the bite of the withdrawal. I had my booster buzz today and can go back for a third any time before six months.
I threw out an open pack of Newports and gave away the remaining eight packs to the guy who runs the convenience store nearby. You know you are SERIOUS when you have 8 packs of cigarettes in your freezer and you up and quit. I traded them for a case of spring water. Yes, he got the better end of that deal, but I don’t care. He’s a good guy and I like his store.
I had no idea what would entail the withdrawal symptoms; I expected crabbiness, short-temperedness, ravenous hunger, impatience, depression, mild psychosis.... but I sure didn’t expect chronic sleeplessness!
Every night for the past seven nights it’s as if some cosmic alarm clock is playing a joke on me, waking me up every single hour for the next five hours. Sometimes I wake up in a sweat, sometimes I dream about sleeping. Maybe it was all the celery I’ve been eating. But, no matter what I do, I can't sleep more than two hours at a time.
Getting through the morning (when I never smoked) and the afternoon (when I rarely smoked), or driving in the car (where I almost never smoked) or calling on clients (where I never smoked) or running any errands should be no problem. It’s the 6 PM – 12 AM slot that will be challenging. I chain smoked half cigarettes between 8 PM and midnight, and I rarely, if ever, wrote anything without something burning in the ashtray.
If I had to do it over, I quit on a long a weekend when I could be up all night and not worry about functioning too much the next day. Had I known, I might have planned it differently. But, just as well. I had to quit and damn the torpedoes.
I trust my body knows what it’s doing with this insomnia, nausea, migrating aches, and semi-catatonia.
Of course, I called my mom to whine, since that’s what moms are for. She did not experience insomnia when she quit smoking. I remember she became a frothing maniac, fired everyone in the office, got really froggy and we were all ready to tie her down and give her a shotgun of tobacco smoke to calm her down.
On Halloween, I had no cigarettes in the house to tempt me. For the first time in memory, maybe ever, I walked around the neighborhood without smoking. I brushed my teeth like 47 times (I’m going to have the sparkliest teeth on the planet) and took a nap before the trick-or-treating.
Surprisingly, despite the lack of good sleep, I have not hallucinated, fallen down a flight of stairs, confessed to terr-ist activities, or accepted a marriage proposal. Deep in my cellular makeup, deep in my bones is this powerful nicotine addiction. I have no psychological needs whatsoever. I have no interest in smoking. But my body is NOT happy. It’s like being tortured by the KGB.
Things really did not get better, as was promised.
TO BE CONTINUED
Posted by lorelei at 08:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (41)July 13, 2007
Triskaidekaphobia
triskaidekaphobia \tris-ky-dek-uh-FOH-bee-uh\,
A morbid fear of the number 13 or the date Friday the 13th.
"It's just bad luck that the 13th is so often a Friday," Electronic Telegraph, September 8, 1996
``````````````````````````````````
Happy Friday the 13th, everyone! Actually, Friday lands on the 13th at least twice a year, sometimes three times. When it lands on a Friday three times, the months are February, March and November.
Naturally, I regard Friday the 13th as an auspicious occasion worth celebrating. I really have no choice, having been born on one. Yes, I'm sure I've told you that 100 times. It's an interesting conversation piece; kind of like having children 20 years apart (that definitely raises more eyebrows) or writing a book about Scott Peterson. The usual reaction when I tell someone I was born on a Friday the 13th is something snarky such as, "Oh, that explains it."
Suffice it to say, I plan to get lucky today. Do you?
Posted by lorelei at 09:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (47)June 27, 2007
Why I Quit Blogging (For Now)
Oh, where have you been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy,
Oh, where have you been, charming Billy?
Despite the dearth of regular visitors I have these days (and deservedly so, since I haven’t written anything worth reading for months and can hardly qualify the cop-out photo-essay as a substitute for real work), I feel compelled to explain to the (declining) faithful the reasons why I have, for all intents and purposes, quit blogging.
First, allow me to dispel the myth once and for all that I abandoned my little corner of cyberspace because of any real-life threats to my employment, person or property. Those of us who wanted to continue to communicate online simply moved to a private venue where our discussions were not dissected and distorted by bored idiots and nutcases with nothing else to do with their pathetic lives. In fact, I still do a little writing, as it were, on that blog regularly; but those entries don’t compare to the kind of expository, satire, analysis or whimsical anecdotes to which my readers had become accustomed.
In fact, one of the reasons for my long hiatus is because I set the bar too high. It was impossible for me to meet the standards I had created for myself after over three years with this labor. Besides, let’s face it: I’m an all-or-nothing kind of gal, and if I can’t give 110% to my work, I simply don’t bother with it at all. When I realized that my priorities had vastly shifted from 2002 to 2006, I had to make a choice between competence in my domestic and professional life and my (low- or no-paying) blogging gig.
Kind of a no-brainer, there.
Nevertheless, I have continued to follow several pet issues religiously, including the 9/11 truth movement, our malignant and misinforming media, spousal murder cases, “missing” (presumed murdered by the boyfriend/husband) pregnant women, and political subjects near and dear to my obsessive and slightly paranoid heart. I only wish I had the time and dedication to opine on these subjects in my traditionally verbose and sarcastic fashion; because, as you can imagine, I have lots and lots of things to say that would be both amusing and enlightening to those of you who have enjoyed my way of putting things and agreed with my point of view. To those who didn’t, well, there’s the X up there, sweeties.
Oh, sure, I get inspired and formulate blog entries in my head about the latest scandal, crime story or hilarious irony only to be distracted in the composition by immediate concerns such as making a living, gazing out the window at my serene view of Lake Erie, completing endless training and certification courses for my career, chauffeuring children to sports, recreation, and shoe-shopping, and the other domestic glamour I have made an art of speed-neglecting all these years. The inspiration remains another skeleton of an outline never to be fleshed into blog-worthy fare. I regret that I have but 24 hours in a day as a mere mortal.
However, the misfit friends on my speed dial can attest to my continued irrepressible loquaciousness and that while I may not formally post entries on various subjects, I certainly have my opinions and theories. Perhaps sometime in the near future I can begin to write again when my routine is more predictable.
Then there is the matter of my surprisingly fabulous love life that was non-existent during the years that I followed the Peterson case. I knew that there was no way to reconcile the amount of time I devoted to my blog with a real-life relationship, so something had to give. The misfits affectionately refer to him as The Blog Wrecker; an accomplishment of which he is rather proud, I think. But, to be fair, my blog was a mere shadow of its former self by the time I decided to reenter the dangerous jungle of love where, as long-time readers know, I had been tied to a stake, cooked over a slow-burning kettle and devoured by pygmies in previous adventures. I am living proof of the adage, “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.”
Heh. The worst that can happen is I collect interesting new blog fodder for future entries. Meanwhile, I am having a wonderful time and I wish you all the very best this summer. I’ll be bach.
Posted by lorelei at 01:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (23)December 12, 2006
A Silly Meme
Alright, some nearly illiterate blogger on an emailing list sent me this "meme" questionnaire all filled out, and I decided it was stupid, so I thought I'd share the pain. Let's see if I can make a little spoof of it instead. Feel free to answer likewise and unseriously....or not. The "question" part is unaltered from its original state, so the spelling and grammatical errors are his/theirs/whoever started this goofy thing.
Birthday: 11-13 - and it was lucky. Just ask me about paraskevidekatriaphobia. I'll tell you all about it.
Birthplace: Unfortunately, in a place where the weather is lousy 11 months a year. Why couldn't I have been born in California?
Eye Color: Indefinite. Sometimes quite green, sometimes hazel, sometimes gray-ish blue.
Right handed or Left handed: Right, except I can do things with both hands, like play instruments or type, and I hit a backhand with both hands. But, I used to say I was so right-handed, I couldn't walk on the left-hand side of the street.
My Heritage: German, Irish, French, Heinz 57 - I'm 3rd/4th generation American. I don't have any ethnicity. I envy those their ethnicity.
Shoe i wore today: I usually wear two, if I wear them at all. I had to dress up today, so I wore black heels, and now I'm in old raggedy pink slippers. I need a new pair. Please call Santa.
My Wickness: I think I have a slow wick. Wait, that's probably supposed to be "weakness." I have no weaknesses. Ok, except for that cheesecake, oooh, and look at that...
My Fear: I have a few aversions. My biggest nightmare is being surrounded by incredibly incompetent people. Oh sh....ooot.
My Perfect Pizza: Pizza just doesn't rise to the standard of perfection in any form.
Goal i Would Like To Achieve This Year: Make $113,000. Heck, why not?
Most Overused Phrase: "I need closure." Other pop pych phrases used by Dr. Phil and Oprah.
Thoughts First Waking Up: This morning? "Dayum! I have to drive to Akron. Ack! Ack!"
Your Best Physical Feature: A nose Michael Jackson would kill for.
McDonalds or Burger King: Neither
Coke or Pepsi? Every now and then, the harsh afterbite of a paint-peeling Coke tastes pretty good.
Single or Group Dates: What? Where are we, South America?
Chocolate or Vanilla: How banal. Rocky road. Neoplitan. I suppose chocolate when it comes to milkshakes.
Cappuccino or Coffee: Straight up black coffee, no sugar, no cream, no froth, no sprinkles, no elaborating, no fuss no muss. Ask me for my coffee recipe. heh
Cash or Credit cards: I put everything on plastic for tax porpoises. I pay sitters with cash. And my bookie, too, of course.
Do you Smoke: Some, apologetically.
Do you Swear: A well-placed bit of profanity, like hot sauce, has literary and emotional merit when used sparingly.
Do you Sing: Well, yeah, but Sony Music has not offered me a recording contract, yet.
Do you beliv in yourself: BeLIV? I beLIV, I beLIV!
Do you get Motion Sickness: At these questionnaires, yes. Also at Andrew Motion's poetry.
Are you a Health Freak: No, just a garden variety freak.
Do you get along with your Parents: If I don't want to be disinherited, I do. (Kidding. Kidding!)
Do you like Thunderstorms: Not particularly, although they look pretty cool over the lake. I once nearly got struck by lightning when I was in high school and I was a little skittish after that.
Do you play an Instrument: A few. Some badly.
In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: I have not drunk it, no. Too many drunks in the family for generations. All dead.
In the past month have you been on Drugs: Nnnnoo. Unless you count that bong over there.
In the past month have you gone on a Date: Nope. Can't even recall who gets tied up.
In the past month have you gone to a Mall: What mall? There are no more malls. *sniff* Just strip malls.
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: Heavens, no.
In the past month have you eaten Sushi: Not a chance.
In the past month have you been on Stage: Not exactly.
In the past month have you been Dumped: Only in a non-personal way. Very rude.
In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: yeah, right. Who writes this stuff?
How do you want to Die: Quickly and painlessly.
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: I'm sure I'll be a grandmother.
What country would you most like to Visit: New Zealand
Best Clothing Style: UC Berkely sweatshirt (size XXL), gray yoga pants, and Nike flip flops rule.
Number of CDs I own: Somewhere around 100, and no, they are not alphabetized, although that would be a good idea.
Number of Piercings: three - ears only, but I only wear 2 earrings. Back in the day, everyone got a second pierce in one ear for their extra earrings.
Number of Tattoos: One giant green and red squid with "Mario Loves Me" on my back. I can't remember how that happened.
Number of things in my Past I Regret: 2 or 3.......hundred
Posted by lorelei at 09:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (140)September 02, 2006
"What I did on my Summer Vacation"
Did anyone really have to write an essay like this for class? I never did. I don’t think my teachers cared what we did over the summer. Not that I ever did much: swim, lounge around, stay under the radar, hang out at the mall, ride my bike down to the beach. There wasn’t much to do until you were old enough to have a job or drive a car.
It’s really an ironic title for the entry, since this summer the only thing I took “vacation” from was Misfitting, and everything else spread out to fill in the gaps. My little crew had a very busy summer. As many of you know, I moved, and I did it without professional movers, so I’m simply delighted to have the agony and sheer exhaustion of that horrible experience behind me. Between the cleaning and schlepping, I used muscles that haven’t been heard from in years, although I became stronger and fitter as a result. There’s always a silver lining. Another benefit to moving is being motivated to organize or get rid of things that you have had packed up for years and don’t want to take with you. In the beginning, I sorted and bagged and drove things to various charities or recycling facilities. Toward the end, when I was going through those last few boxes and that last closet, I became extremely unsentimental, if not downright cold-blooded.
On the kid front, there were the usual swimming lessons, day camps, summer camp, and field trips; but because our new neighborhood is on a private street with a private beach, we had to gear up for lakefront living. The kids got new bikes: one ready to ride, one in a box (yes, I assembled it all by myself. I was ecstatic to find the adjustable wrench), and water shoes to wade in. They collected beach glass, skipped stones, watched the boats or played with the neighbor kids. They were in heaven. Even now that school has begun, they are on the beach or riding around to take advantage of the daylight and warm weather while it lasts.
It took over two years to get into a courtroom, but in late June through mid-August, the California murder trial of Cameron Brown finally took place. After hearing six weeks of testimony and nearly a week in deliberations, the jury deadlocked over the degree in which to convict Brown. From reliable accounts, all but two jurors agreed that Lauren Key’s death was not an accident. Immediately after Judge Arnold declared a mistrial, a new trial date was set for mid-October. Pat and I kept a blog on the Brown case and will update it as events occur. Meanwhile, as in Peterson, the defendant’s apologists have set up their own blog as a venue to discuss the egregious violations against poor, innocent Cam Brown, gnash their teeth over the corrupt court officials, vilify the dastardly DA, and dissect the detritus of the issues, many of which never saw the light of a courtroom. (Big yawn, here.)
The highlight of the summer was my visit from Pat (“CountryGirl), when she flew in from California to drive with me to Michigan as a surprise birthday present to Lisa. Other misfits in attendance included Vero and Barbara; but there were several honorary misfits by the end of the evening. As another surprise, the misfits unable to be there in person organized a group phone call and birthday song in somewhat unison (heh) from cities across the globe.
Naturally, I brought the infamous pastel striped shirt for the requisite photo ops, and eager volunteers at Lisa’s party posed with it. The remarkable popularity of the shirt inspired the idea to send it to misfits all over the world and assemble an ongoing photo essay detailing that damned striped shirt’s adventures. Thus began “TDSS World Tour.”
Late August came much too soon and the kids are already back to school. As I have mentioned in entries past, I long for the summer to dally endlessly beyond its official final weekend. However, there is work to do and we have many subjects to discuss. The agenda here is to have fun, make friends and learn something every day. Welcome back to the journey!
Posted by lorelei at 11:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (153)September 01, 2006
Home Sweet Home
Gee but it's great to be back home
Home is where I want to be.
I've been on the road so long my friend,
And if you came along
I know you couldn't disagree.
It's the same old story
Everywhere I go,
I get slandered,
Libeled,
I hear words I never heard
In the bible
And I'm on step ahead of the shoe shine
Two steps away from the county line
Just trying to keep my customers satisfied,
Satisfied. ~ Paul Simon
Welcome back, everyone! I have an entry brewing for our homecoming!
Posted by lorelei at 06:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (124)