Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Phillip Morris, How could you?
My cats, Zoe and Cookie, are going to burn in hell very soon because I'm going to send them there. It seems like they sense that I detest them with every blackened alveolus in my lungs. It is always my things that they will break, my clothes that they will tear and my body that they will attack.
Just the other day I was sleeping on the sofa in the living room when I suddenly heard a quick patter of little paws because, God knows, none of us have been blessed with dainty feet. A second later, before I could open my eyes to see what was going on, the cats ran over my face and tore up my lip, gum and forehead. I woke up bleeding, cursing the wretched cats and wondering if I will get rabies for the New Year.
Remembering that the cats have had their shots I had nothing to worry about except for looking like someone in an abusive relationship. Come to think about it, I am actually in an abusive relationship with my cats; I kick them, they fuck up my face. We're about even until I think of the fact that my parents always take their side and never yells at them when they decide to pummel my face in.
So with a swollen lip and a huge gash on my forehead, I decided to resolve to a better person for the new year in hope that the cats won't sabotage and destroy all that is dear to me; especially my visage.
Speaking of resolutions I have another one at my doorstep which is to quit smoking. Again.
I have tried inumberable times to quit smoking (4 in total) but I've always gone back to my old buddy Phillip Morris. Marlboro's are my favourite because they're thick, heavy and will kill you faster than other brand of cigarettes. Being in Paris I truly missed Marlboro Milds which are a bit menthol and in between the Mediums and the Reds. The Milds are rare and can only be found in the good ol' U.S. of A. An ex-boyfriend introduced them to me in my freshman year and although I hated the boyfriend and chucked every memory of him out of my head and house when we had split, the cigarettes stayed on.
In Paris, I smoked Gauloises . They are a bit gritty. Not so smooth and I do not enjoy them very much. They're only for my nicotine fix. After a while Gauloises didn't have any effect on me anymore. In need of a desperate change, I opted to go for my old pal but the menthol kind. Marlboro Menthols are so minty that you can feel your lungs crystallize. That's not a good thing. Still, they were a welcomed change.
In Dubai, I haven't smoked very much at all. I usually average about half a pack a day. A whole pack in a night if I'm at a club or a party. But here, holed up in an apartment with my parents who are oblivious to my addiction, my cigarette rations number from zero to half a pack. That's because, when I'm in my house, I do not smoke at all for fear of getting caught. I used to stay up until 3 in the morning when I would lean out of the window in my room and blow the smoke towards the evening sky. After that, I would go and have a quick shower, brush my teeth and sleep through a fitful dream. Nowadays, my room has been conquered by feline freaks who have hindered my habit from taking full form.
When I'm out with my friends at night in Dubai, that's when I break out my pack of what non-smokers love to call, 'cancer sticks', and puff away along with my buddies. It's a lot of fun and sometimes I call up my friends to go out just because I need a cigarette or two which is quite sad when I come to think of it.
It's been about a week since I've last gone out with friends. I've gone through a gazillion packs. but, this time, it's packs of chewing gum because when I'm fiending for a nicotine rush and I can't have it (such as during exams and at times like these when I'm stuck at home) I chew gum like cow who chews grass as if there is no tomorrow. Since it takes two weeks to kick the habit I figure that I should just resolve to quit smoking again as I'm already half way there and accomplish something that was just a result of me being too lazy to call up my mates to have a smoke.
Tomorrow I return to Paris where there are smokers galore. I wonder how I will cope with being surrounded by smoke everywhere and all the time. I wonder if I will succumb to my addiction and buy a 5 euro pack of Marlboros and curse myself for not buying two cartons from the Dubai Duty Free like I had planned when I first landed in Dubai. It's all a matter of willpower, that's what people like to say but they probably don't know how hard the feeling of being a nervous wreck can be due to their body's missing a chemical. They probably don't know how relaxing a cigarette can be when they've been stressed out or when their faces have been pulverized by manic cats.
As relaxing as cigarettes may be they've put too big a dent in my pocket for me to go on living in an expensive city such as Paris with the habit. So this year, it will be yoga, pilates or Lays Chips for relaxation as I wave goodbye to Phillip Morris because the only thing I'll be puffing now is my inhaler.
My cats, Zoe and Cookie, are going to burn in hell very soon because I'm going to send them there. It seems like they sense that I detest them with every blackened alveolus in my lungs. It is always my things that they will break, my clothes that they will tear and my body that they will attack.
Just the other day I was sleeping on the sofa in the living room when I suddenly heard a quick patter of little paws because, God knows, none of us have been blessed with dainty feet. A second later, before I could open my eyes to see what was going on, the cats ran over my face and tore up my lip, gum and forehead. I woke up bleeding, cursing the wretched cats and wondering if I will get rabies for the New Year.
Remembering that the cats have had their shots I had nothing to worry about except for looking like someone in an abusive relationship. Come to think about it, I am actually in an abusive relationship with my cats; I kick them, they fuck up my face. We're about even until I think of the fact that my parents always take their side and never yells at them when they decide to pummel my face in.
So with a swollen lip and a huge gash on my forehead, I decided to resolve to a better person for the new year in hope that the cats won't sabotage and destroy all that is dear to me; especially my visage.
Speaking of resolutions I have another one at my doorstep which is to quit smoking. Again.
I have tried inumberable times to quit smoking (4 in total) but I've always gone back to my old buddy Phillip Morris. Marlboro's are my favourite because they're thick, heavy and will kill you faster than other brand of cigarettes. Being in Paris I truly missed Marlboro Milds which are a bit menthol and in between the Mediums and the Reds. The Milds are rare and can only be found in the good ol' U.S. of A. An ex-boyfriend introduced them to me in my freshman year and although I hated the boyfriend and chucked every memory of him out of my head and house when we had split, the cigarettes stayed on.
In Paris, I smoked Gauloises . They are a bit gritty. Not so smooth and I do not enjoy them very much. They're only for my nicotine fix. After a while Gauloises didn't have any effect on me anymore. In need of a desperate change, I opted to go for my old pal but the menthol kind. Marlboro Menthols are so minty that you can feel your lungs crystallize. That's not a good thing. Still, they were a welcomed change.
In Dubai, I haven't smoked very much at all. I usually average about half a pack a day. A whole pack in a night if I'm at a club or a party. But here, holed up in an apartment with my parents who are oblivious to my addiction, my cigarette rations number from zero to half a pack. That's because, when I'm in my house, I do not smoke at all for fear of getting caught. I used to stay up until 3 in the morning when I would lean out of the window in my room and blow the smoke towards the evening sky. After that, I would go and have a quick shower, brush my teeth and sleep through a fitful dream. Nowadays, my room has been conquered by feline freaks who have hindered my habit from taking full form.
When I'm out with my friends at night in Dubai, that's when I break out my pack of what non-smokers love to call, 'cancer sticks', and puff away along with my buddies. It's a lot of fun and sometimes I call up my friends to go out just because I need a cigarette or two which is quite sad when I come to think of it.
It's been about a week since I've last gone out with friends. I've gone through a gazillion packs. but, this time, it's packs of chewing gum because when I'm fiending for a nicotine rush and I can't have it (such as during exams and at times like these when I'm stuck at home) I chew gum like cow who chews grass as if there is no tomorrow. Since it takes two weeks to kick the habit I figure that I should just resolve to quit smoking again as I'm already half way there and accomplish something that was just a result of me being too lazy to call up my mates to have a smoke.
Tomorrow I return to Paris where there are smokers galore. I wonder how I will cope with being surrounded by smoke everywhere and all the time. I wonder if I will succumb to my addiction and buy a 5 euro pack of Marlboros and curse myself for not buying two cartons from the Dubai Duty Free like I had planned when I first landed in Dubai. It's all a matter of willpower, that's what people like to say but they probably don't know how hard the feeling of being a nervous wreck can be due to their body's missing a chemical. They probably don't know how relaxing a cigarette can be when they've been stressed out or when their faces have been pulverized by manic cats.
As relaxing as cigarettes may be they've put too big a dent in my pocket for me to go on living in an expensive city such as Paris with the habit. So this year, it will be yoga, pilates or Lays Chips for relaxation as I wave goodbye to Phillip Morris because the only thing I'll be puffing now is my inhaler.
# posted by Mare @ 6:32 AM 
