366 days

Today is November 28, 2012. On November 28, 2011, I quit the cigarettes. It was a Monday at 4pm; today is a Wednesday and pretty unremarkable (except a friend of mine did say something funny. He said, "I'll see you guys Thursday at the latest...." And I was like, "Tomorrow's Thursday.... So you'll see us tomorrow.")

Anyway, the main ideas of this log entry: Attrition; Self-deception; and Success.

My friends, this is a war of attrition. All of you who have quit smoking (and many of you who have friends that have quit - or worse frenemies) know what I mean: pain, exhaustion, self-loathing, distraction, and inevitably defeat.

Occasionally, I hate that I don't smoke. Maybe it's the part of me that listens to Katy Perry and wants to date the hipsters, but sometimes I still want to light up, or tell others that sometimes I light up. But that's just not true anymore; there is only used-to.

That's the attrition kicking in. It's what's left over when the nicotine can now only be found in your hair. So as not to be tempted by some cool potential Jean's-future-hipster-boyfriend into pretending like I've never been a quitter, i.e. tempted into smoking again, I uninvitedly tell everyone I meet that I quit smoking. No one really cares, but thankfully everyone is really nice and exclaims impressed and encouraging sentiments. I love the Midwest for this reason if no other (of course there are others - flannel, beer, snow, seasons in general, hipsters [mentioned above], cheese, and Prince to name a few).

Someone has to lose this war. And obviously, it will be bad if it's me. But here's the reason I shouldn't win this war: self-deception. I want to smoke cigarettes on my own terms. Mostly, I want to smoke cigarettes when it's socially convenient, i.e. at parties that are lame or at parties where cool people are smoking. So, if I conceptualize myself as a winner and that I have defeated tobacco, I run the risk of thinking, mistakenly, that I am now capable of smoking when I want, and then not wanting to smoke later. We can all see where this goes: one cigarette not followed by buying a pack will lead to another solo cigarette to another to another to buying a pack to share to buy a pack to hog.

What a frickin' waste it would be. I can't have anymore wisdom teeth removed, guys - they took 'em all! So let's not go there; I'll not be a deserter.

Ok, so that's the self-perception/self-deception predicament. But here's the reality: I won, bitches. Those cancer sticks can suck it, because I ain't suckin' on 'em.

I understand if you don't understand. Just think about the movie Inception. That is my mind, layered like dream-thievery. The deepest level has to keep fighting this war of attrition because, if I don't, greater weakness will be open to attack. But, surface level Jean can acknowledge that it has been 366 days without a cigarette and that it is exceptional. No patch or pill and no relapse.

This chick's got quitting down!
(Except when it comes to coffee, netflix, cookies, facebook, shoes, and cardigans).

Quitter's Log 1/21/12

Have I addressed the phenomenon of coffee and cigarettes? I’m sure (almost) everyone who quits the cancer sticks has to face this at some point on their smoke free journey. I thought I would reach that fork in the road much sooner.  I drink coffee to the point where I can no longer hide behind the fancy “antioxidants”. It's just straight bad for me, the amount I drink. But my intake has increased since I stopped smoking. I wasn’t surprised: it provides a chemical stimulus and an oral preoccupation.  Plus, when I was still smoking, I found that I didn’t’ actually love the sensation of the two together. Coffee and cigarettes left my mouth feeling like an ash tray that someone poured day-old coffee into.

But I sit here today, sipping my café au lait and thinking to myself, “Mmmm…cigarettes.” Ok, I know it is unlikely that I’ll start smoking today. But regardless, good thing I don’t have a pack on me, right?

Ha! Wrong. It doesn’t matter because there is a gas station across the street from this (super cool, it’s totally my favorite in Minneapolis) coffee shop.  50 feet away I can buy cigarettes to enjoy with my coffee. It might actually be less/more than 50 feet, I’ve always been a horrible judge of distance. 

But have no fear; I don’t intend to march over there and purchase the most addictive substance on the planet….

Or do I…?

Quitter's Log 1/7/12

Love the internet. Today, I had it do some basic math for me. Since I quit 40 days ago, I’ve saved $97.50 and am thrilled about it. As I venture into a new phase of my life (a phase with my own apartment) I’m realizing more and more how much I am glad to have what will be $900 or so at the end of the year. Of course, I’m not creating a travel fund or a New-And-True-Non-Smokers fund. I’m just throwing it at other things, like rent. Or I will.

Do I have anything else interesting to say about this tonight…? I think that’s all. So, in sum: I didn’t smoke 323 cigarettes and I’ve “saved” almost $100.  2012 is off and running. (Get it? Because I don’t smoke anymore.)

Quitter's Log 1/2/12

It’s a New Year, and on the celebration of this New Year, I said something clever. Here is a story of my cleverness:

Amos, Terra, and I were cheers-ing to 2012 and the elusive resolutions made by most. Between the three of us, however, we came up with some neat originals not 60 minutes earlier. We covered awesome feats like a new career, learning tennis, and have a Cool Moments jar (writing note-worthy experiences of the year and keeping them in the jar). Not a mumble was said about losing weight, hitting the gym, saving some money, or quitting smoking. Those of you who are new to the Quitter’s Log might not know this but I used to be a smoker. That’s right, not so long ago I was puffin’ a sweet one seven times a day. But I quit 5 weeks back, and haven’t smoked at all. So an hour after the ball dropped in New York, and the three of us were bantering about our awesome resolutions and how atypical they are, I was all “Quit smoking: check. Did it, bitches! “ And my friends were like “Haha. Jean. You’re funny and clever.” 

As it turns out, that story kind of sucks. When I read through it, I realize it sounds super lame (and like bragging). Come to think of it, I’m not even sure that “clever” is an appropriate word at all. But I don’t even care. My New Year’s resolution was not to quit smoking and it’s not because I want to continue smoking. I quit before I turned 24 and before the calendar caught up to 2012. I feel great about this, and don’t give three licks that my story sucked. 

So, now that I’ve dulled you with a boring story and a spurt of conceit, I’ll digress a bit on the actual significance of this post. Today, January 2^nd, 2012, marks 5 weeks. FIVE WEEKS. Mull that over, and then spit it out quick because it is disgusting (but impressive, I know). These have been perhaps the strangest five weeks in my living memory. I cannot express more fully than I already have how disorienting the last month has been. But five weeks, almost to the hour. What, what!? 

On a related note, last night I said goodbye a friend as he return to reality and I remained in the city that knows-your-name-and-traps-you-in-asinine-small-talk-for-what-seems-like-hours-when-all-you-want-is-to-pay-for-your-latte-and-get-out. I had made it through Christmas eve, Christmas day,  New Year’s eve and almost through New Year’s day without experiencing a craving or running into a trigger that had been strong enough to really tempt me. But here I was, in my car, alone. Not a minute had passed since the last hug and the fond farewell to a friend. And like an Ancient Chinese watercolor, the waves of cravings came on. The picture of the moment was overwhelmingly represented by angry (and foamy) waves, and what was left to be painted would barely make a stroke on the canvas. It was unexpected, completely so. I had never even considered the sense of loss as a trigger. But hey, there it was. Have no fear though; I made it through to the other side without adding nicotine to the endless list of Things Consumed during the Holidays that Are Only Okay Because It’s the Holidays.