Kick

I don't even know what to do with this space anymore... ha ha. I can't seem to give up blogging altogether, but at the same time, I can't seem to find my groove in the blogosphere anymore.

But John e-mailed me yesterday and wanted to make sure I hadn't died. So no, I'm not dead. Not even close.

I'm still NOT smoking. I still (mostly) don't want to. I also quit taking the Chantix. I felt ready to give it a go in the real world.

It's been exactly one year since I started Nutrisystem. It's run its course as well. I'm really pleased with the results, but I'm really tired of their food. I've learned what I needed to learn. I made eating right a lifestyle, not a temporary change.

All in all, the year between my 37th and 38th birthday produced some wonderful results. I broke two really really nasty habits. And that makes me very very happy.

And yes, I am still kicking... oh am I kicking!

Minor Update

I did it! I made it an entire week without smoking... and I haven't gained any weight. I've actually continued to lose the weight I gained over the holidays in fact. I can't even remember why I wanted to smoke in the first place.

My only fear is becoming an ex-smoker. I don't want to be one of the people who lectures others about the dangers of smoking... that coughs obnoxiously around smokers... I want to be as considerate a non-smoker as I (hope) I was a smoker. But Saturday night at the Pirate Party I actually had to turn my head when a smoker was talking to me. I think that experience more than anything else convinced me to never light up again. Did my mouth smell like ash? The horror!

I don't have much news to share outside of that. Life is just breezing along splendidly. Not that I'm hoping for a tragedy mind you -- I just don't have anything else to write about at the moment. So how about I share two pirate pictures and let you be on your way now?


No, I don't look pleased at all, do I? Told you it was too short and too tight.

Later taters,
R~

Quick Update -- More Later

Just wanted to say I'm doing fine. I made it through the weekend without smoking. I made it through the detox period without caving. And so far, I haven't gained any weight.

I'll write more as time allows, but I didn't want anyone to fear I'd given in to the temptations.

And, I wanted to say thank you to Heather because she absolutely made my day... and she knows why. And for the record, Heather, I'm proud of you too.

The Day After

Soooooooooooooooooo...

I made it through the first day in one piece. Really! I didn't even have a binge attack.

Today was actually a bit harder.

So I'm not going to think about it anymore tonight. Baby steps.


IN OTHER NEWS:

American Idol fans, check out this blog:

This guy actually found the myspace pages for a bunch of the contestants from the last two nights!

And finally, a moment of Zen.

The First Day

This is the point in the evening where I would normally rub my full tummy and light my first of many evening smokes.

But I haven't smoked at all today.

It's the first day. It's quitting day.

And if I'm a good girl and go straight to bed after American Idol, I only have 3 hours left until my first day is over.

Some parts have been easier than I thought. Some have been harder.

Driving without smoking is almost unbearable. Sitting here in front of the computer without smoking is worse.

But getting through the day without one has been kind of easy.

I made a point of ruining the last of the cigarettes in my pack last night before bed. This way caving will involve me getting off my ass and driving to the store.

Not.going.to.happen. Once I'm home, I'm home. Light my house on fire, and I'll still sit on my tired ass until the flames lick my heels.

The only fear I have at this point is whether or not I will substitute food for smoking. My original plan was to lose all my weight (I have about 20 to 25 pounds left to lose), keep it off for six months, and THEN start the quitting process.

I still have no idea why I bumped it up. Must be the universe pushing me into alignment.

At any rate, the first day is almost over. I can't say I "miss" the cigarettes, but I do miss smoking.

In other news:

I'm going to pirate party on Saturday. My costume arrived in the mail today. It's too fucking short, and too fucking tight. I'm sure The Husband will tell me it's perfect.

And now for your moment of Zen.

Reporting, Day 5

It's been five full days since I started taking Chantix for my smoking cessation venture. This morning I woke up, sat down at the computer with a cup of coffee, and had absolutely NO desire to light a cigarette. My morning smoke, Kids, my morning smoke of all things! I was tempted to go ahead and ask The Husband to stash my remaining cigarettes, but since I'm big on rules (take the pills for seven full days before you stop smoking, and don't stop smoking until that day) I went ahead and decided to see how long I would care to go without a smoke.

I lit up at 3:30, but only because we were at the resort and some dumb rednecks beside me were chain smoking. (I knew I should have joined a "spa" as opposed to a "resort".)

In other news, we've had a lovely first two days of a three-day weekend. The kids kind of did their own thing, so we took advantage and did our own thing as well. Saturday we left early to go lounge by the pool at a quaint little place an hour away, and stayed for the night life. We were supposed to be home all day today, but since no kids were around, we threw our stuff in a bag and headed back to our happy place for the afternoon. So as I sit here typing, I'm completely at peace. I've had plenty of sun, plenty of conversation, and more than my fair share of vodka tonics.

I've also had lots of time to think, but not a lot of time to think some things through. So maybe I'll write more on that another day. I'm shedding another layer in order to be reborn yet again. This should be interesting... or I'd like to think so.

And now for your moment of Zen.

What's Up, Pussy Cat?

So I took my first Chantix this morning, and I've decided that I'm a victim of psychosomatic symptoms. Within TEN minutes (count 'em, ten) I turned to my friend and co-worker and said, "It's working! I feel dizzy." She looked me dead in the eye and said, "Ditsy? Yeah, but you're always like that."

Later that morning we went out for our smoke break. I was lighting my second when a wave of nausea hit me. "It's working!" I proclaimed. "Get over yourself" she answered back. (This is, by the way, why I love her. Busting my balls is the quickest way to my heart. Ask The Husband.)

I sat down to eat lunch a few hours after that and everything tasted different somehow. I smiled smugly, recalling that is also one of the side effects.

It's working. My highly-susceptible-to-suggestion-psyche is responding to the pill. Note I said pill. I only took one.


In other news:

My friend and co-worker turned 30 today. She wanted to get together for drinks after work, so I decided it would be okay to join her for one... just one... before I drove home. Now tell me this; why the fuck don't they tell you it's happy hour before pouring two shots of Stoli in your drink? What could possibly be the logic of waiting until after you've sucked the entire thing through a straw?
Let me answer that; over-priced appetizer sales goal. Fuckers.

And now for your moment of Zen. It's not a pipe cleaner, but it will do in a pinch.