30 August 2010

Back from DC

I just got back from a trip to DC.

Cast of characters
Kumar Anna: means Kumar older brother.
Sowmya Manni: means Sowmya wife of my older brother
Nithya: their daughter, 9(?)
Vinayak: their son, 6
Shivakumar Anna: Sowmya Manni's brother. He has the same exact name as my brother, so I'm using the full version to keep them sorted.

So I got to DC, and one of the first things Kumar anna asked me is "Why didn't you just catch the bus at 1 am on Friday, sleep on the way here, and just arrive into DC in the morning?" D'oh! The answer was so obvious that I couldn't see straight. OK, so that's what we'll do the next time. Vinayak was well and truly conked out. Nithya was playing with Kumar anna's new ipod touch. Sowmya Manni was driving in the front, and chatting with Shivakumar anna.

I updated Kumar anna about my committment to quitting smoking, having learned that he'd undertaken the same journey. On the way to the store, we find out that Shivakumar anna had done his own quitting about 4 years back. Huh. Interesting, eh? So with that knowledge under my helmet, I was free to relax about curbing cravings.

Once we made it to their house, got the car emptied, and trooped indoors, I was quite ready to tuck into Sowmya Manni's cootoo. It's a South Indian dish made from vegetables (generally things like radish, squash, bit of onion, cumin, mustard seed, and coconut milk). It's a pretty simple (though very tasty) dish, and it looked ravishing after that five hour bus ride to DC. I immediately helped myself to a bowl.

I mentioned off-hand what a pain it was that my ipod's bluetooth had gone under with the latest software update (which no amount of rolling back fixed, thanks), and I had to use wired headphones, because that's all that will work.

"What's wrong with the wired?"

"They keep getting caught on everything."

"Just wear the wire under your shirt."

The day had barely begun, and he'd already delivered two hugely useful bits of advice without a second thought.

I thought of these exchanges today, when I was at work. "Huh? What does '1 bucket of soup, broken and discarded'," even mean? I stared at the "broken/discarded items" log blankly. Last year, I'd keep forgetting to update the Quickbooks with any losses because of damaged items. This year, I'm jotting it all down on a log, so I can keep a running tally.

Upon further investigation ("Boss, what on earth does this mean?), it would mean that one of the service buckets, inside which soup is stored, was dropped by accident (everyone was OK; the service buckets are plastic), and the bucket broke, meaning that the soup and the bucket had to be thrown out.

Now we're getting somewhere. Right, but what do those cost? Boss Man shrugged. I silently cursed as I stalked off to the office to get to the bottom of this. I calculated the rough liquid capacity of the soup mug (12 oz~ish), and the rough size of the bucket (3 quarts?), and went about converting the one to the other and dividing across, and looking at the final score.

Then I cursed aloud, balled up the paper, and flung it across the room at the wall. 8 servings per bucket? That made no sense. So I started up again. Maybe the buckets are 2 quarts. Yeah, that's it, it's 2. Then I checked my math, and the cost of the soup. If that indeed was how much soup I'm getting for that soup recipe, we're not charging nearly enough. This makes no sense! I balled up a second sheet of paper, and stewed for a minute.

Wait a minute.

Excitedly, I ran out into the plating area, grabbed a soup mug, grabbed an empty service bucket (it needed washing out anyway), and filled it with water. Then, counting down, I started to empty the bucket, one mug at a time.


Sometimes, it takes an intelligent person a frustratingly long time to find the same answer that you could have figured out in 10 seconds. I cross-checked the math with the pricing, and the little lightbulbs went off in my head. Yes. Everything fit neatly, and easily. Also, now I had a quick way to assess whether or not I'll need more of a particular thing. If I've only got 1 1/2 buckets of soup left, I'd better get into the kitchen and whip up another one. If it's lunch rush and I've only got 1 1/2 buckets of soup left, then I'd better crank the stove, crank the oven, and /run/.

Why is this so exciting to me? Because now I /know/. A little thrill of triumph crossed my face as I completed the maths problem the easy way, made my notations, and moved to the next set of hurdles to jump, with its own set of numbers to rescue from the clutches of "I don't know."

All in a day's work.

To be continued ...

29 August 2010

300th post!

Welcome to post number 300. I've been doing this blog thing for a fair bit now, and it's introduced me to some awesome people. Thanks for sticking around with me this long. It's nice to know that other people out there are interested in hearing my voice.

I'm in DC with my eldest brother and his family. The neice and nephew are adorable, as always. Their neighbours, who are such good friends that they pass in and out of each other's house all the time. I didn't realise that there were such friendly and open people around who are that comfortable with each other. I sometimes wish I could have that with another family.

To be fair, Dan and Nate are pretty cool with us, to the point that we can throw spontaneous dinner parties at random, and they'll happily come over to partake of the feast. It's pretty cool.

I've also realised that leaving Manhattan won't kill me, and that I need to chill out a bit more about it. No, this doesn't mean that I'll be voluntarily leaving very frequently, but visits to other cities aren't out of the question.

No, I'm still not hitting up the left coast.

Switched from the patch to the Chantix. So far, so good. It's not nearly as debilitating as the patch, and the dehydration would be easier to handle were it not for the fact that I'm sitting in the middle of a city that used to be a swamp. The heat is stifling hot, and there's nothing for it but to escape into the recesses of air conditioning.

Ah, well.

I'm looking forward to getting back home to Steve, because I miss him terribly even though it's only been a day thus far. My sister-in-law let me know that they have his mother's old sewing machine. Reconnecting it with Steve will be very awesome, because he's had the sewing bug in him since day one, and we thought it to be lost in space.

Life has this funny way of magically making things work out.

26 August 2010

I still hate it

I'm thoroughly not enjoying this quitting process. The patches dry out my mouth to the point where I'm dehydrated by the end of the day, and even drinking things with electrolytes in doesn't help. This is extremely unpleasant. If it weren't for the cost, I'd still be happily smoking away, but let's be honest. It's only going to get /more/ expensive. I don't fancy spending half a month's grocery bill on a luxury product like cigarettes. That's kind of ridiculous.

It still doesn't make it easy. I'm on the last 2 patches that were provided by the city. Next step is only 1 week long, and the step after that is another week. Hopefully, the smaller patches will mean less side effects.

20 August 2010


And like an idiot, I forgot to put on the bloody patch this morning. And I don't notice until I'm here at work. Good job.

To be fair, I'm not a morning/daytime smoker. So the nicotine delivery in the daytime isn't really necessary. So I texted Puppy to ask him to bring me a patch IF and only if he's in the area. Otherwise, I can deal, and put one on tonight when I get home. Maybe I should be doing that anyway. Y'know, just putting on the patch around the hours when I'll need it?

I had a phone conversation (a quick one) last night with Steve's nephew Trevor. I had to be quick, because I didn't want to reach for the no longer there pack of cigarettes, but I guess it's a step in the right direction.

So I made this soup from red bell peppers, and I didn't hate it! Why? Because I couldn't taste it strongly, that's why.

Start with two large Spanish onions, and sautee it in enough oil that the pan is well lubricated. Keep going until they're almost brown. While they're going, chop up 6 large baking potatoes. Get them into an even dice, if you can. If you can't, who cares. You're going to puree the thing anyway. Then, chop up 6 large red bell peppers. Dump the peppers and potatoes in together when the onions are cooked through. Stir everything around. Add in a good kick of curry powder. It needs it, trust me. Also, heave some salt into the mix. Keep stirring. When everything is a lovely yellow, slam on the lid, and let it cook in dry heat for about 10 minutes. You can open the lid and stir every couple of minutes if you're a nervous nellie, like me. :)

To make cheater cheater pumpkin eater type quickie stock, get 2 litres of boiling water, and pitch in 1/4 cup of nutritional yeast, and whatever dried herbs you have lying around. I used oregano and thyme. Let it sit for five minutes, and you have stock. Wahey. Don't add salt, because hi. Who adds salt to stock? You might as well leave it unsalted, and adjust at the end, so you have control over your flavourings.

OK. So once the potatoes and peppers have cooked for a good 10 (or 15, because I got distracted and forgot) minutes, throw in the cheater stock you just made. If you don't have nutritional yeast, no big. Leave it out, and just use the herbs. If you don't have herbs, go to the bloody store and /get/ some herbs. Come on, people. Gotta work with something, right?

Then, once that's all sorted, blend 2 cups of coconut milk with 1/3 cup of cornstarch, arrowroot, tapioca starch, potato starch, or whatever other starch you have. Use a stick blender or a regular blender, because those starches can get stubborn, and clump on you for no reason. No, you can't use all purpose flour, because you then have to cook the raw flour taste out of it. If you /really/ were determined, go ahead and make a roux, and add coconut milk to it. I won't tell anyone if you won't.

Let the potatoes and peppers boil together until the potatoes are tender enough that they're almost falling apart. Pour in the coocnut milk and starch mix. Let it come up to a full boil, and then turn off the heat. Blend the soup until it's smooth. If you're one of Those People, strain it. If you're not afraid of a tiny bit of texture, leave it be, and eat it.

It was tasty. There was the savoury taste of the bell peppers, but none of that yucky bitterness.

17 August 2010

Reeling it in more.

OK, so because of the horrible nightmares, and terrifically bad insomnia, I stopped wearing the patch before going to sleep, and don't bother putting it back on until I'm good and awake, and have seen the better side of a shower. So from about 9 PM to 10 am~ish, I'm not wearing it. That's fine, because I never was a big smoker in the mornings anyway. Hopefully, this means that when I have to get to the next stage, it won't be quite as challenging as getting rid of cigarettes was.

The improved weather conditions means that I'm not going through such dehydration issues anymore. My appetite is back, and I am able to get through the day as long as I keep a glass of water on hand at all times. It's a good thing that I'm trying this when the weather is clearing up, because if I were sweaty, dehydrated, and generally physically miserable, I'd be outright unbearable to be near, much less live with.

Yesterday's books were Garlic and Sapphires by Ruth Reichl (sp?) and Lords and Ladies by Terry Pratchett, as well as Sleeping Beauty by Mercedes Lackey. Garlic and Sapphires is Ruth Reichl's memoir of her tenure at the New York Times as their food critic. She talks about the various disguises she used at the restaurants, so as to remain anonymous. Interspersed are recipes for various foods that she enjoys. Nothing that I can eat, but a fun read nonetheless. Lords and Ladies is another Discworld classic, and features Granny Weatherwax, Nanny Ogg (and the rest of the Ogg clan), and Magrat Garlick. They're amongst my favourite characters, so it was definitely a fun read.

Sleeping Beauty is another story in Mercedes Lackey's 500 Kingdoms series. It's about a princess who is being pushed into a Traditional fairy tale life (beautiful looks, mother dies, wicked stepmother enters, handsome prince, etc. etc.), and is none too thrilled with the prospect. You learn early on that Fairy Godmothers sometimes need to use expediency over strict rules, so that the people they care for are taken care of. Definitely a fun read, in my opinion. It's technically a romance novel, but there's no smut. This is a Very Good Thing, as the thought of a man and a woman being intimate turns my stomach.

I've noticed that every time I crave a cigarette really badly, I tap on, or touch the area where I've placed the patch. I don't know why it comforts me, but I'm not going to complain. It's doing its job right now. I guess when I finally am no longer wearing said patches, I can wean myself off with a bandage or something. It won't be quite the same, but it'll get me there, just as touching the patch isn't the same as lighting up, but it gives me something to temporarily discharge the all-encompassing craving very quickly. I'll take what I can get.

I'm still quaranting myself from high-trigger situtations, such as talking on the phone, watching TV, or eating big meals. Hopefully, in a few week's time, when the worst of the edge isn't there anymore, I can slowly integrate those parts of my life back into my regular schedule. Mind you, watching TV and eating big meals aren't exactly the best things in the world, but I do miss talking to my mother and my friends on the phone. There's something that the phone does that is missing with an email.

Oh well. Baby steps, right? It hasn't even been a week yet.

15 August 2010

Ratcheting down

When I'm feeling sad, or scared, or in need of comfort, I tend to make soup. I don't know why, but the ritual itself has a calming effect, especially when I do it Properly, and chop all the ingredients really finely, and have everything in neat little bowls, arranged atop the cutting board, ready to go. No last-minute chopping for me! When I make soup in this manner, the point is not to get a pot of soup finished. The point here is to get the perfect pot of soup on, and to savour every step of the ritual, and completely lose myself in the process, so as to have it almost be a sort of meditation.

Yesterday, when my mood was particularly bad, I decided to putter into the kitchen, and make soup. See, the thing about it is that with the nicotine patch on overnight, as they suggested so that I don't get morning cravings, I ended up with pretty disgusting, violent (prolonged, not one-off), and gory dreams, and I would wake up with a sick feeling. Unfortunately, this would mean that more than a couple of hours of sleep was just not going to happen. This also meant that I would feel even more out of sorts the next day, which kind of defeats the purpose.

So anyway. I'm feeling a bit rough, and decided to go into the kitchen and make soup Properly. I started with two medium sized onions, and chopped them into a fine mince. I chopped one large jumbo horse sized carrot (you know the kind; one of them weighs a pound) into 1/4 inch dice. I diced up 2 plantains (peeled, 1/4 inch dice, please), 1 yucca (1 lb yucca, peeled, split in 4 lengthwise, middle stem removed, then 1/4 inch thick slices), 1 medium potato (1/4 inch, unpeeled waxy potato), and a medium head of cabbage (quartered lengthwise, then each 1/4 cut into 3 lengthwise pieces, then shredded with a knife of about 1/2 inch thick slices). Since my soup pot is cast aluminum, I did have to use a bit of fat to get things started, instead of doing just a couple of drops as I normally do.

Usually, what I do is that I get the stove started, throw the pot on, and throw in some oil. Then, while the oil heats, I make a mad dash for the fridge, grab the onions and carrots, and start frantically peeling. The oil is hot enough by then (and almost smoking). I then throw in the mustard seeds and run back to chopping, then in with cumin and back to chopping. It's chaotic, frenzied, and ever so much fun. It's almost like a race to beat the stove.

But today was about slow, deliberate, and thorough cooking.

The whole chopping of the vegetables took about 30 minutes solid, which gave my brain time to completely blank out. Even though I can carry on conversations with others when I'm cooking, I tend to prefer to let my brain clear completely when I cook alone.

Once the veg were chopped, I did the standard mustard seed and cumin seed thing, then threw in the carrots and onions, along with a bit of turmeric for colour. I turned the heat down to medium, covered the lid, and turned around to clean up after myself. See, usually when I'm cooking, there's a fairly big mess to be had, because I'm mainly concerned with getting all the food cranked out at the same time. This means that any spare moment is spent getting more food cooked, and clean up becomes secondary. This time, however, I had the time to putter around for a bit, and watching a pot of onions and carrots sweat slowly isn't my idea of amusement, no matter how pretty it may be.

I remembered that I should have put a pot of rice on, so I shut the lid, and quickly threw in 4 cups of brown rice, along with the needed water. That barely took a few seconds.

By the time the requisite 15 minutes had passed (for the cooking of the onions and carrots), I'd managed to clear out most of the breakfast dishes, along with the new ones I'd created while cooking. In went the plantains, potatoes, and yucca. Since they're all chopped small, they'll cook at the same speed. I tossed them around to get them evenly coated with the spices and aromatics, then increased the heat just a tiny bit, and replaced the lid. Back to cleaning! After another ten minutes, I added about 3 litres of water.

Side note: I don't use stock, because it doesn't actually add enough flavour to my soup. When I have all these spices going, only water will do, so that the spices can come through, rather than being muddled as they would be were I to use stock. Save your stock for when you're in a real rush, and don't have even the time to throw in a couple of powdered spices to the mix, and just want to dump everything into a pot, throw in some stock, throw on the lid, and set it to simmer away.

I increased the heat to high, and went back to my cleaning. I have one of those gas stoves that has the super high heat burner, which meant that it wasn't going to give me but 3 or 4 minutes to clean. Just like with Proper Cooking, I tend to let my mind wander when washing dishes or doing other cleaning. I just mentally disconnect, and let myself go for a while.

After the water came to a full, rushing boil, I went to my freezer, snagged a few stalks of curry leaves, and scattered them in. I would ordinarily throw them in with the spices, but with frozen, I wanted the taste and colour maintained, so I added it at the end. I also added a clove of garlic, and a bit of salt and black pepper to taste. As a finishing touch, I sprinkled in a bit of red chile flakes, and shut the lid again.

The water needs to now boil quite fiercely for about 15 minutes. If you chop your veg slightly larger, they'll need closer to 25 - 30 minutes. At the end of the 15 minutes, the kitchen was mostly clean, save for the cutting board atop which the cabbage rested. I opened the pot back up, threw in the cabbage, let it keep boiling, and opened up a tin of coconut milk. In that went, and on the lid went. I turned off the heat. Cabbage chopped that small doesn't need to boil. It can cook in the residual heat. I cleaned off the cutting board, and went to lie down for a bit, while the cabbage finished its cooking. I picked up Like Water for Chocolate, by Laura Esquivel. Very good book.

By the time I got to the chapter with Tita's wedding cake, the rice pot beeped (it had a few more minutes when I left the kitchen). The cabbage was done to a turn. Not soggy and limp, but very slightly crisp still, although cooked through.

Books read thus far as of Friday:

Carpe Jugulum, Terry Pratchett
Like Water for Chocolate, Laura Esquivel
Up the Down Staircase, Bel Kaufman (I didn't know what to expect from this one, but from the teachers I've spoken to, such things still go on.)
Thief of Time, Terry Pratchett

For the record, the soup was delicious.

14 August 2010

Still craving, slightly cranky

After not getting decent sleep last night, from the horrible nightmares, and then getting a fairly massive high-level craving like I haven't had in a very long time, even when I was smoking and I'd forgotten my cigarettes at home, I picked up "Up the Down Staircase". Definitely a good read. To give you an idea, I powered through it in the space of roughly 2 hours and change. That, alongside a stiff drink, took the edge off, and I'm not craving, until some jackhole is smoking right outside my window, and the smoke is drifting in. Going back to the dining room, where it's a different side of the building that faces out.

2nd day

Last night was rough, I finally got to sleep around this morning at 6:30 ish, and couldn't manage more than an hour, because I started getting horrific, violent, bloody dreams. Same thing happened the first night, and early last night when I did get that quick sleep. I don't watch violent film, watch the news, watch violent TV, read books of that nature, or anything else along those lines, so it's a little disconcerting to try and figure out where my brain is manufacturing these images from.

I'm mainly talking to Steve, who's talking me through the rougher patches. Fortunately, I haven't really had any other purely physical withdrawal symptoms, which is reassuring. I guess then that I need to alter my patch schedule, and just not wear it at night before sleeping, else this may end up to be a rather nasty little set of side effects that can make this more miserable than it needs to be.

I'm thinking it might be best to snag some chamomile from the store to brew as tea for bed times, so that I can at least get to sleep without any further chemicals going into the mix, but we'll see about that. Still, today shouldn't be too hard, because I don't usually smoke in the day time when I'm by myself, or relaxed already from the night before (as is the case), and I'm just staying home. It's a tiny bit difficult to be computer-less, but hopefully, they'll get that sorted soon enough.

Currently reading Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel to occupy the hands. Will keep you all posted.

But in everything, there is some good.

So, as stated earlier, I've made the leap and decided to quit smoking. This morning, we woke up at 6:30 (as we always do), and the patch had stayed on (miraculously) overnight, and hadn't budged. So far, so good. I dashed into the kitchen to scare up some breakfast for Steve (I'm not a morning person; my job is to /make/, not eat said breakfast), and truly wake up. There I am, making some curried plantains, when it sunk in. Once I put on that first patch, I needed to go forward and commit to it completely.

I walked into the living room, picked up my lighters, ashtrays, and cigarette boxes, and threw them all in the trash. That way, even if I am tempted to bring home a cigarette, I won't be "set up" to smoke the thing. It's a small concession, but there you go. Removing the triggers will likely help me to think of my house as nonsmoking now.

We made it out the door to get to City Hall. After four years, we finally decided to stop procrastinating, and get our butts down to get a domestic partnership agreement signed and sealed. It was difficult not to bite down a bitter thought towards the couple in front of us who were getting a real marriage license, her in her pretty white dress, and him in a nice black suit, but I managed, because those two were having a wedding in City Hall, whereas mine was with family and friends. Small concession, but there you go.

On the way to City Hall, we stopped by the Starbucks, where I got an Earl Grey to clear out the morning cobwebs. Bad idea. I've known for some time now that I can't hold my caffeine, and that it hits me strongly. That stupid tea is the reason I'm still awake right now, after like a 1 hour catnap. Anyway.

It was still freakishly early by the time we got out of City Hall, and I had a good two hours until work. On a whim, I asked Steve if he'd like to just go to Washington Square Park with me, and hang out for a bit till I had to go in to work. He looked at the time, and thought that sounded positively fabulous, because the day was very beautiful (cool breeze, very light bit of sun, empty streets). We decided to walk, because he didn't have an unlimited ride card, and again, beautiful day. He took me up Broadway, past Chinatown, across Houston, and up Sullivan Street. On the way to the park, the buildings stood out so much more vividly than ever before.

Things that I'd never paid attention to before came to the forefront for me. It was a wonderful excuse to just be together a little longer, and make plans for the future (shopping and otherwise), chat about stupid things, and for him to show me "his" neighbourhood. He works down there around West Broadway, and is very familiar with that trail.

We got to the park, and the first big craving hit. Usually, when I'm early for work because I planned it that way, I'll grab a soda and a cigarette, and sit on one of the benches in the sun to just relax for a bit. I kept it light, choosing instead to talk about anything that would distract me. We walked to the Fountain, facing the Arch. Then, a man walked onto the fountain on the opposite side, took off his shoes, and waded in. Watching him collect coins that people had tossed into the fountain provided a good bit of distraction.

See, the literature that I got told me that if I'm to kick the habit permanently, I need to break patterns. For example, if I come home, and sit in one particular favoured spot, and do a certain set of activities before lighting up a cigarette, to do anything but that when I get home. So this time, instead of buying a soda, I had a tea, and instead of the benches we headed to the fountain. I don't know why, but that small thing took me out of that head space, and got me distracted enough by the new experience. I guess that's also why the buildings looked so pretty.

I headed to work an hour early, as there were more and more people coming into the park, and having their own cigarettes. The smell was becoming too tempting, so I asked Steve if he minded if I head into work early. He seemed game, and walked me to the restaurant. I showed my boss the domestic partner certificate, and he and Steve got into a heated rant about how stupid it is that I can't just get a marriage and get it over with. I quietly agreed, but didn't really get into it, because my brain was still thinking of those cigarettes in other people's mouths. I know that this will pass too, but it's still hard to get past that initial craving.

Aside from being ritualistic (smoking on the phone, while walking, after eating, etc.), smoking is also a very social habit. You'll tend to smoke when others are smoking, whether or not you really crave a cigarette. I guess it's like any drug in that way, eh? So seeing someone else light a cigarette makes me subconsciously reach for my bag, even though I stopped carrying cigarettes in the day time a long time back (except on those one or two days that I'd have in the Park).

Work wasn't stressful until I started plunging into the numbers part, which started to give me a throbbing head ache. There were records that weren't being categorised correctly, and when I saw the large list of them that needed to get done, a ghost of a headache started from the back of my skull, and spidered its way forward.

Stupid cravings.

Of course, it doesn't help that the nicotine patch is giving me dry mouth something fierce, because the kitchen is dehydrating as it is. A few hours of sweat later, I managed to get onto the subway, shaking a little. An uneventful, though anxious trip home followed. I dreaded it a little, because the first thing I do when I get home on a Friday night is to have a glass of water. Why? Because the water is tasty, and it helps me disconnect from the world that I just left behind. Then, I'd either flip open the phone, and chat to a couple of friends or Amma, pour myself a drink, and have a cigarette in front of the TV. In between phone calls, I'd keep having more drinks, and more cigarettes, until the rest of the week would fade away.

It makes it pretty bad, because now I associate talking on the phone or watching TV with having a cigarette. I don't want to avoid my friends or family, but right now, I'm still a little rough around the edges, and don't trust myself very much to handle contact. So I poured myself a drink, and sat at the dining room table, in front of Steve to chat to him. Pattern breaking, you know. It seemed to do the trick for about five minutes, before Steve noticed me fidgeting.

"Did you finish that Pratchett novel?"

"Oh shoot! No I didn't!"

He inadvertently struck on the one thing that I never smoke while doing: reading. When I read, I'm so engrossed in the book that I can't be bothered to. Sure, I can eat, or drink water, or whatever, but smoking is a definite no, especially since I could end up damaging the book. I guess I've found my distractor for the next few days: reading.

For the curious, the novel was Carpe Jugulum by Terry Pratchett. Not his best work, but still quite diverting. Yes, I did finish it, by 9:00 which is bed time. After we both went to sleep around midnight~ish, I got back up at 1:00.

Damn tea.

13 August 2010

Good god day one of no smoking was rough. Threw out all my lighters and ashtrays. No turning back. But the dry mouth is murder.