Cigarettes @ MindSay

So I've been trying to write more lately, and it hasn't really been working out very well. Until last night. I was feeling kind of cynical and angry, and I was outside, smoking (don't ever smoke indoors--bad bad bad!), and Nick called me Too-Much-Nicotine Girl. And that totally inspired me. I'm writing the screenplay for a Daria-type series called Roz: The Adventures of Too-Much-Nicotine Girl. It's largely based on my life and is very much my response to what's happening around me, while incorporating other opinions and beliefs into a story that's frankly more character-driven than plot-driven. I'm having fun. :)

Oh--and I'm out of cigarettes. I'm all twitchy. Bleh.

Fuck it. I’m totally just going to smoke. There’s no point denying it, especially with the people I hang out with. Okay, really only Nick. But Nick is kind of a big part of my life right now. I only smoke once or twice when we hang out, and he kind of gets that I don’t smoke in front of Natalie, without me even saying anything. He just gets it. I don’t know. He’s just wonderful. Why does he have to be wonderful? I’ve always hated those dumb girls who say stuff like that, but I’m totally there. He’s not presumptuous or anything. He walked a good 3+ miles with me, and from what I could tell, he enjoyed just walking and talking with me. He’s been very conscious of my unspoken rule of no contact and is only pushing it a little, and that little is way less than I would let him get away with. I have a weird thing about being touched. Until I know you fairly well and thus trust you, you don’t get to touch me. You just don’t. I love hugs, I love being touched, but I have to trust you a lot. He’s only just now started asking for hugs. He holds me close for a little longer than necessary but not longer than propriety or my hackles dictate against, lets go, smiles, and thanks me for spending time with him. I play it cool, thank him for spending time with me, and walk him to the door.
The sad truth? I’m thanking him a million times over for even thinking about me. I’m a total head case. I analyze everything in minute detail, both as it happens and in my alone time. And while I would totally LOVE for things to jump right to the steamy romance thing, I love things the way they are. I know a lot of people say this, but if it just stayed this way forever, I wouldn’t feel any loss. I’d still long for more (I’ll be honest—he’s a MAJOR catch), but if that’s not what he wants, I won’t ask for more. And that’s all I’ll say on the matter. For now. :)
Wow. I definitely veered WAY off-topic. Smoking. Yeah, I know. It causes cancer. It rots your teeth. I know all the effects of smoking, I know. Most of my family is either in the medical field or suffering because of their nasty habit. I get it. It’s bad for you. Ugh! And I hate it. I hate smoking with a passion. But I hate it in the sense that I obsess over it. I deny myself until I get pushed just a little too hard. And I’ve discovered that giving in to the craving makes the craving much less potent. I know, that’s called appeasing the nicotine fiend. But my cravings right now are MUCH less strong than they were last week when I flat-out refused to smoke. Last week, just the smell of someone who had smoked in the last few hours was enough to set off my cravings. Right now, I’m surrounded by smokers, and I’m wearing clothes that smell like cigarettes, but I’m not craving even in the least bit. So I’ve decided that smoking is my vice. I don’t smoke enough that it interferes with my life. I don’t even smoke every day. But self-denial feels way more destructive than allowing myself a dirty little habit every now and again.

Dear Sir:

You know who you are.  You spent all day working in my office.  And if you didn't notice - you reeked - REEKED - of your hand-rolled cigarettes.  ALL F-ING DAY!  You stunk so bad that a colleague couldn't spend more than two minutes at my desk before having to go out n the hallway to finish our conversation because she was so overwhelmed by your smell wafting through the room.  Someone else stopped by at the end of the day and didn't even set foot in the door, she just stood there making a slightly scrunchy face.  Did you notice that I wasn't there much today?  That's because it smelled like I was working in an overcrowded bar right before closing time.  It was so smelly, I couldn't concentrate.  I had to take a lap around the floor multiple times just to get some fresh air.  I had a pounding headache from the smell by lunchtime that didn't go away until 7pm.  Remember when you said you don't believe in deodorant because it is so unhealthy?  Well guess what.  The stench of your cigarettes masks any body odor.  I understand that you just returned from a trip that may not have gone the way you wanted.  But please, take a shower and put on fresh clothes prior to your arrival.  No smoker (or anyone for that matter) should smell that overwhelming at 9am.

Now, you want to go ahead and ruin your lungs with your bad habit - go right on ahead.  Keep on keeping on.  But just keep it out of my office please. 

Love,

socKs

Since some of us have been blogging about our dingbat moments, I figured I'd blog about one of mine.

 

Either my sophomore or junior year of college, a very hot French guy moved into our dorm. U of H has co-ed dorms so you can imagine the hijinks that ensued, especially during rush week. (But I digress...)

Anyway, Eric was about 6 feet 2 inches of lean, golden brown muscle. He was built like a soccer...er football player and he was the type of blond who could get a nice golden tan because, as he said, "Ma mere est Hollandais". (My mother is Dutch). Another very distinguishing feature about Eric was he wore his very blond hair in microbraids.  His girlfriend back in France was actually Senegalese and she would do his hair.  It was his ferverent wish that his braids would eventually lock up and turn into dreadlocks. 

 

My good friend Karina and I would literally swoon everytime we saw Eric walk by in the dining hall.  We actually scheduled our meals around his normal eating times. This guy had a walk on him that any runway model would die for! One day the man had the nerve to show up in the dining hall wearing jeans and a white denim vest. No shirt. Just a vest and inches of delicious golden sinew! Karina squeezed my wrist so hard that she dug her nails into my skin. Right then and I there I decided I HAD to make his acquaintence!

 

Luckily, I knew a girl who couldn't help but brag about the fact that she kinda knew him.  She lived on the same floor that Karina and I lived on and she said she knew him through her boyfriend.  I guess he was in some international students' club because her boyfriend was from Ireland. After begging her for days to introduce us, she finally did.  I hardly remember the exchange because I concentrating very hard on NOT tripping or falling.  As some of you know, I tend to get a wee bit clumsy around guys who I think are hot. I have no idea why meeting a hot guy affects my equillibrium but it does.  I do remember, however mentioning that I was taking conversational French and I was having a hard time. It was the truth. I swear! I really was having a hard time in the class.   Eric actually offered to help me which surprised the hell outta me! It was like fate smiled on me!

 

After that, my pathetic ass was, too shy to ask him for help.  Karina ragged on me for having an "in" and being too much of a candy ass to take it.  I would always say "hi" to Eric when I saw him on campus, but I couldn't bring myself to ask him for help, until I got a C on the first test. That day I saw him in the elevator I told him I didn't do, too well on the test.

 

"What grade did you get?"

"A 'C'," I sighed.

"Ah, non, Myclette. You did not ask me to help you study. Why?"

Ohmygod! He says my name so damn sexy. JesusMaryandJoseph!! "I don't know. I guess I should have huh?"

"Do you have the test with you or did he just show you your grade?"

"I have the test in my bag."

"Okay, give me the test. I will correct it for you.  Come by my room around 4:00 and pick it up."

Yes!!! Ohmygod, Ohmygod!!!!

 

I gave him the test and he gave me his room number (I already knew it) and he got off the elevator.  I almost melted into the floor! I ran to Karina's room and told her. We both shrieked and jumped up and down like 12 year old girls at a slumber party.  I was nervous the whole rest of the day.  When the time came to pick up my test, I made sure I wore something that looked cute on me, but was casual. I didn't want to give Eric the impression that I was trying to look cute. I had to be subtle right?

 

When I got to the door, I took a few steadying breaths before I knocked.  I had to calm myself down before I went in there and tripped over my feet or knocked over a lamp or something.  When I finally decided I was calm enough, I knocked and he yelled "come in".  I opened the door and there was Eric, lying in the top bunk in all of his golden glory!  Homeboy wasn't wearing anything but a navy blue, extra long, twin-sized bed sheet! I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights. I know I stood frozen for what seemed like an eternity. I just couldn't move.

 

"Oh, Myclette, I am sorry. I fell asleep."

"Uh..okay...I can come back later...I..."

"No, no, no. I finished your corrections. They're right here."  He smiled and pulled the test out of the small compartment in the headboard.

He then asked me to hand him something and pointed in the general direction of his desk on the other side of the room.  I stammered "okay" and for some reason handed him a pair of pants.

 

"Non, not ze pants -- cigarettes.  Hand me my cigarettes please." Oh damn it! Why did I hand him a pair of pants. How do the words cigarettes and pants sound anything alike? Smooth move Myclette! Not exactly your finest hour!

"Oh, yeah...s-sorry..heh..."   I handed him his cigarettes, but for some reason I stood as far away from him as possible.  It was like I didn't trust myself to not do something stupid like drool on his arm or something. He signaled for me to come closer.

"Let me show you how I corrected your test."

As he took the time to explain his corrections I can honestly say I heard maybe half of what he said. I was too busy trying to recover from my moment of dorkdom while simultaneously willing the bedsheet to slide further down his hips.