I had my last real cigarette over two months ago. I have decided to quit smoking. (again. only because I could.) I vaporize milligrams of nicotine daily to keep me from hulking out. (#sarapmagvape) Last time I tried to quit cold-turkey, I went berserker on a nurse who was going to give me an injection. Bad move. Nicotine plugs a hole in my brain that makes me cranky.

Let’s face it: smoking makes you cool. I have met some of the most interesting people while out on cigarette breaks. There’s this unspoken camaraderie when you’re out smoking — you all step out into a portion of the world for a little stress relief. It’s a nice way to get to know new officemates (if they smoke too, which means they’re cool), it’s a nice problem-solving tool, it’s better than an after-meal mint, it’s nice to get a nice fill of fresh air and then violate it with filthy, lung-tinged smoke or meet random people who might give you some weird, foreign cigarette. (Writing that down makes me want to light up. Also, sometimes it’s that in reverse: you might be the only smoker in a group, you have a cough and smoking makes you miserable or friends/random people will bum off you.)

Here are rationalizations why I quit:

• It doesn’t give me the kick it used to. The feel of that first-hit cough doesn’t come anymore.
• They don’t make ‘em like they used to. They killed off my favorite flavor in 2008. Last year, they killed off the one I replaced that with. Sobranies are stale when they make it here and are too expensive to sustain on a pack-per-day basis.
• Health reasons blah blah blah.

On the first month:

• My fingers aren’t yellow anymore and do not smell of smoke.
• I don’t wake up with smoke-breath.
• I probably lost my super-lung capacity and cannot hold my breath underwater for 20 minutes or so anymore.
• Food tasted better.
• QUIT ZITS NO ONE — TOLD ME. (my dermatologist says this is due to detox. years of toxins are making their way out of my body … through my face-pores —- WHY)

On the second month:

• I can take deeper breaths? Also, consider that I used to smoke while running (to work etc), so my lung capacity should be tripled.
• The cravings are less. I used to brave harsh weather just to get a cigarette.
• MY DETOX IS ALMOST OVER BYE QUIT ZITS HELLO RED MARKS.
• Weight gain! The money I would have spent on cigarettes, I used for take-out.

I asked my dermatologist: “if I hadn’t stopped smoking, would my skin be better (better as in better-than-now, without foresight of future better-ness)?” she said yes. My body has gotten so used to the substances that the sudden absence has disturbed the inner balance. Essentially, a game of Uno Stacko gone Jengga. The blocks have fallen and need reconstruction.

So, to summarize: if quitting cigarettes will make you look less cool, will kill a social outlet (smoking breaks) and lessen the chances of interesting occurrences in your life — what are the benefits again? Or does this non-smoking lifestyle take longer to get used to?

If you are a smoker now and value these precious things, I urge you: do not be a quitter. Or not. Or swear that it’s your last stick and then smoke again days/weeks later.

I went to the World Trade Center earlier, 8 am, only to be notified that I can’t go in because I was carrying a lighter. Fair enough, gotta respect security measures, right? But the Pasay police by the entrance were asking me to leave my cigarettes too, no name tag, no number tag, no shit — and the tenacity of these officers to tell me this while enjoying the confiscated spoils in the form of home-made baon, liters of beverage and cartons of cigarettes. Another guard moves in from his post to grab a handful of snacks, then walks back.

“Kung ayaw mo iwan yosi mo, sige, i-yosi mo muna lahat yan, papapasukin ka namin.”

I mean, what would I do with an unlit cigarette? Break open a lightbulb and light one in the filament?! And what of the actual dangerous devices in my person at the time? A makeshift knuckle using the batbelt? A choking hazard in the form of an earring? Bruise-inducing cross and heartbreak rings???

I respect security measures, and it’s not even about the cigarettes or the distance anymore. I could’ve gone in if I simply swallowed my pride and left the cigs out — but what does that prove? That the moochers win, simply because people follow the rules? That, what the warning that goes: “World Trade Center is not liable for your belongings…” truly means is that they can’t stop the cops from getting to them? I think that’s hardly right nor fair.

So I left. Corruption leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

(Now I’m in the mood for Rage Against the Machine [pak da powlees!] — to think that most of the attendees were like under 20, and to get to experience bullshit right before their eyes?!)

Here’s a video of the Crown 7 electronic cigarette in action:

(may magic pa!) What’s up with the emission though? To the untrained eye, that would still look like cigarette smoke. (I still have to have one though.)

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Hey, I mean if you can sue God, (and check the senator’s image — is it just me, or is the fan positioned behind him makes it look like he has a halo?) then I think there’s a fair chance of winning against Santa, right? (Will He blog about it?) They should be at the same level as the Easter Bunny. My reason for joining in the crusade? Like Tony Bowen from the link, my interest in this case does not intersect with the goal to be accomplished; I just hate Christmas.

Mikko suggested we take the case to court. His grievance? — 15 years without presents.

They could argue, however, that they have a clause (I was tempted to skip the ‘e’) about being good for the months preceeding the holidays, in order to qualify for the compensation. My counter-argument would be the moral voyeurism that the Santa Claus company performs.

Wouldn’t keeping an absolutist list of children’s activities qualify as stalking? (Nice = gift, naughty = nil?)

Excuse me while I join in the class action suit against The Boogeyman, (mumu) Halloween is closer than Christmas.

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Knocked Up is HILARIOUS!

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Should Santa decide to bribe me, I’d want one of these:

Crown 7 has invented an electronic cigarette. (Pretty fancy name for a nicotine vaporizer / patch.) And claims to have the following benefits:

• Emits a Harmless Vapor That Simulates Smoke yet Satisfies the Nicotine Urges & Cravings
• Use Crown7 in Any Situation Where Smoking is Prohibited – Our Product is Non-Offensive
• Rechargeable Battery for Endless Hours of Enjoyment and Smoking Pleasure
• No Offensive Smoke… Only a Harmless Vapor is Emitted
• Perfect Solution to Smoking in a Casino or Pool Hall – Prevents Noxious Odors by Never Creating Them
• Sophisticated Design, Sleek Art Deco Look & Feel
• No Residual Clothing or Room Odor… Now that’s a Real Benefit!
• Battery Operated, Simple to Manipulate in all Situations Where Smoking Cigarettes has been Prohibited

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I don’t know about you guys, but I’m enjoying “Gimme More” by Britney. Don’t ask.

*****
Is it just me, or is Chris Martin channeling Sting in the track “Homecoming” on Kanye’s new CD? (No wonder I like Coldplay.)

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The latest season of Prison Break scares me — there’s no signs of Tancredi! Will she be pulling off a “Veronica?!”

*******
Excuse me while I watch Superman:Doomsday now.

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“Second-degree burns affect both the outer and underlying layer of skin. They cause pain, redness, swelling, and blistering.”

Okay, that makes burn number 2 for this month. I think I met my quota at 0.

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‘Okay ka lang?’

It’s funny how asserting one’s stability tends to ellicit the opposite interpretation. So, let’s say I pulled out a cigarette each time I heard this statement for the whole week. That’s equivalent to 90+ sticks. And, if according to 1994′s Surgeon General report that each cigarette smoked takes 7 minutes out of the smoker’s life, that’s roughly 630+ minutes subtracted from my life.

Gotta understand though, when you hear “ok ka lang?,” you can almost always expect the one who asked to expect the opposite reaction. Given the right one, they’ll follow up with, “sure ka? / are you sure?”

At first, I thought I’d be mighty annoyed -and I was, really,- but nobody expected the sudden highschool reunion, 5 years premature, and on such tragic circumstances. So yeah, I think I’d file this under “Paolo’s-Cynicism-when-people-actually-do-care-what-you’re-going-through-at-the-moment” folder.

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Someone pointed out how “highschool” (and I do believe I throw the word ‘highschool’ as an adjective a lot) the whole week has been:

Namecalling, getting forced to interact and digging up old (awkward) memories you hid along with the dinosaurs? (ergh. yes, we did have pet names.) Go highschool.

Names I’ve been called for the last week: “the highschool midlife crisis,” “pastor,” “antukin,” … and so on.

Some express disbelief that I did make it — they always expected me to be the bum. (that’s still plan B) “No, I do have a job/ Yes, I’m okay/ No, it’s not a callcenter/ Yep, just in front of Podium/ Yes, I’m sure I’m okay/ Nope, I didn’t know she was going through all that/ Yep, tumalon kami sa bintana/ Nope, I don’t think we ever spoke before/ Nope, I wasn’t always quiet”

I love highschool.

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If there’s anything learned for this week, it’s: “First, do no harm.”

It’s what they say to doctors. Before trying to heal a patient, be sure you don’t make things any worse for them. Think about how you can treat them without doing any damage.

Be careful with people. Try to live your life without abusing or shattering or betraying.

“First, do no harm.”

(Ok, so I did read the last few lines from a comicbook, but it fits.)

I could sit here and mope about this passing, but I would choose not to; We all eventually fall and stumble. The important thing is getting back on your feet.

*****
Starcraft 2 has been officially announced. It looks like the same old shit … in 3D!

A thing that bothers me though is the new siege tank. A friend noted that it looks “gummy.” I think it looks like a giant robotic octopus.

Does anyone remember the robotic octopus from Voltes V? Octo-1? I’m calling the new siege tank Octo-1 PRIME. Hahaha!

Seriously though, check out the Artwork trailer here.

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Home on a Saturday. Never been an outgoing person to start with, and the money-handicap (the ATM ate my card) really puts me back to my roots. Having just woken up, (it’s almost 11) I read a message from someone pretty important about how the past is out of control, the future out of reach and that therefore we should live in the present as best we can. I could not agree more. Plus, I wonder where this interaction’s going.

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It’s the punchline to the cosmic joke — as you’re getting used to something, that something tends to change. And I do believe change is a good thing. Change is a means of moving forward, and moving forward’s a way to get through this sweet, sweet life. Plus, complacency probably isn’t that good of a thing, it breeds dependency.

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Did I mention that I just woke up? I woke up and remembered: I have no idea what internal portrait of me the “pretty important person” has. Would it be feasible to have that person write it in essay form?

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CREEPY SHIT: There’s this girl I refuse to get in touch with since … well, prison isn’t really a good idea yet. (I mean, if you love someone don’t send them to prison, right?) Well, she posted a picture. With a guy. Dammit, the guy kinda looks like me. And to show this to me — can you spell ‘spite’?

*****
To quote Sunset Rubdown’s “The Empty Threats from Little Lord,” ‘There are women with no meaning to their names …. When we say them…’

Which is, of course, 2006′s best truthful quasi-chauvinistic line.

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Smoking Loving is better than breathing.

I blow at the ember and watch it devour the whites, to spit it out as gray, gray smoke.

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Therefore, to ensure a good future — I want to always keep trying to outdo myself. (Which isn’t too hard, I guess, just ‘being’ a little bit better all the time.)