Wednesday, August 26, 2009
8 Weeks, 5 Days
I wasn't sure how long it's been since my quit day until I came to visit my blog - which I don't even visit. I have this 'quit meter' on the bottom of the page and at the time of this posting it tells me it's been 8 weeks and 5 days. Basically the entire summer. This isn't to say I haven't had a few ciggy's here and there. Sometimes I can't help myself, but for the most part it's become pretty easy. About one month ago I knocked my Chantix dosage down to 1 pill per 24 hours rather than the 2. While the dreams are fun to write about, they're a friggin nightmare (no pun intended) to deal with. I'm still having some fairly vivid dreams, but nothing I can remember enough of to write about. Makes for a pretty disappointing blog. I think I need some new subject matter...
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
It's been a while
Hey you - I know you look for updates every day since you're pretty bored at work - sorry I haven't had any for a while.
So, technically it's been about 5 weeks since I quit. Since that point, I have owned 2 packs of cigarettes and had been sneaking them here and there. It's definitely been 10 days since I've had a smoke - so I'm pretty happy about that. It feels good. I have developed a cough in the last two weeks that is beyond annoying. I did some research and found out that there are these little hairs in your lungs that help move dust and debris out. Turns out smoking kills these little guys (which is why smokers are prone to asthma and getting sick more often, makes sense). Now they are trying to grow back and my lungs are welcoming them by making me cough like I have the plague. Good times, good times.
The dreams haven't really subsided, but I am having a much harder time remembering them. They are mostly filled with the same themes - I can't get places I need to get and I can't find things I need to find. Last night was a little easier to remember since they were so strange. I've also cut my chantix dosage back to once a day for now as I get the feeling it's really f'ing my head up. Don't worry, I checked with my doc and he said to give it a whirl. This may be the reason the dream machine has dialed down.
August 4 -
I'm sharing an apartment with a bunch of people. We have this giant fish tank with all sorts of crazy fish. It's really the focus of our lives - making sure it's perfect and the fish are happy. We had neon tetras, lots of them. For whatever reason, they had morphed into a new being that was living out of water. They basically turned into donut sized jelly fish that were glowing in the dark. They floated all over the apartment. So every day, we had to try to push them out the front door and every day they'd find their way back. That was pretty much it.
I also had a pretty dirty dream as well -but don't worry, it was about you and it was hot :)
So, technically it's been about 5 weeks since I quit. Since that point, I have owned 2 packs of cigarettes and had been sneaking them here and there. It's definitely been 10 days since I've had a smoke - so I'm pretty happy about that. It feels good. I have developed a cough in the last two weeks that is beyond annoying. I did some research and found out that there are these little hairs in your lungs that help move dust and debris out. Turns out smoking kills these little guys (which is why smokers are prone to asthma and getting sick more often, makes sense). Now they are trying to grow back and my lungs are welcoming them by making me cough like I have the plague. Good times, good times.
The dreams haven't really subsided, but I am having a much harder time remembering them. They are mostly filled with the same themes - I can't get places I need to get and I can't find things I need to find. Last night was a little easier to remember since they were so strange. I've also cut my chantix dosage back to once a day for now as I get the feeling it's really f'ing my head up. Don't worry, I checked with my doc and he said to give it a whirl. This may be the reason the dream machine has dialed down.
August 4 -
I'm sharing an apartment with a bunch of people. We have this giant fish tank with all sorts of crazy fish. It's really the focus of our lives - making sure it's perfect and the fish are happy. We had neon tetras, lots of them. For whatever reason, they had morphed into a new being that was living out of water. They basically turned into donut sized jelly fish that were glowing in the dark. They floated all over the apartment. So every day, we had to try to push them out the front door and every day they'd find their way back. That was pretty much it.
I also had a pretty dirty dream as well -but don't worry, it was about you and it was hot :)
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Going Up
Holy freaking elevator dreams. Everywhere I went in my odd string of dreams last night required some death defying elevator rides. I looked it up and according to the dream editor of a site dedicated to women, "Rising in an elevator may indicate feelings of progress or an ascent that is unencumbered. Since elevators are machines that move with practically no effort on our part (other than pressing a button) the progress being made may feel relatively easy. This progress may be physical, mental, or spiritual." I don't know about all that. Especially because the majority of the elevators I was in were just barely functioning.
July 14 -
I'm in New York City for a conference. Oddly, I'm sharing this very large guestroom with my sister who is out and about. It's late and I'm to meet a female coworker for a late drink down at the lobby bar. As I'm getting ready to head out, I suddenly come into the possession of a pet squirrel. He had a name, like Rodney or something, but I can't remember. This thing is a huge pain in the ass. He's completely unruly but for the most part understands commands much like a dog would. I have to leave him in the room, my sister isn't back yet and she's not going to like this, and the girl I'm meeting keeps calling because she's ready to go. I have her over to the room to meet the squirrel. Not sure who the girl was, but she's very attractive. Right about that time my sister gets back and there's this awkward exchange of looks between the three of us. I tell her about the squirrel and she flips. The drinking companion rolls out and me and my sister try to deal with this unruly squirrel. I had to roll out, so I left.
I can't find this bar. Next thing I know, I'm all over Manhattan looking for this bar and it's just not happening. Each building I go in requires a ride in a rickety old elevator with half the buttons broken, doors that won't close, etc. I spent the remainder of the dream having very odd run-in's with New Yorkers. I wish I could remember a few of them.
July 14 -
I'm in New York City for a conference. Oddly, I'm sharing this very large guestroom with my sister who is out and about. It's late and I'm to meet a female coworker for a late drink down at the lobby bar. As I'm getting ready to head out, I suddenly come into the possession of a pet squirrel. He had a name, like Rodney or something, but I can't remember. This thing is a huge pain in the ass. He's completely unruly but for the most part understands commands much like a dog would. I have to leave him in the room, my sister isn't back yet and she's not going to like this, and the girl I'm meeting keeps calling because she's ready to go. I have her over to the room to meet the squirrel. Not sure who the girl was, but she's very attractive. Right about that time my sister gets back and there's this awkward exchange of looks between the three of us. I tell her about the squirrel and she flips. The drinking companion rolls out and me and my sister try to deal with this unruly squirrel. I had to roll out, so I left.
I can't find this bar. Next thing I know, I'm all over Manhattan looking for this bar and it's just not happening. Each building I go in requires a ride in a rickety old elevator with half the buttons broken, doors that won't close, etc. I spent the remainder of the dream having very odd run-in's with New Yorkers. I wish I could remember a few of them.
July 14 -
It's Thanksgiving and the family dinner I'm going to is on the 60th floor of some really old NYC building. The elevator is so small that it barley fits two people. If you've ever been to the St. Louis Arch and rode to the top, it was like that, except it had the extra added bonus of being on the outside of the building with old glass windows that rattled as it jerked along the outside of the building. I'm terrified to be in this thing. It's stopping and starting and you can hear things creaking and cracking. About half way up the thing turns into a Wonkavator and cuts through the inside of the building. Random stop - there's a swimming pool, outside, that goes around the perimeter of the building. It's like an infinity pool, except over the edge is about 30 floors down. Hundreds of kids in there, strange. Back to the wonkevator and I head out the other side of the building to take on the next 30 floors just like the first 30. I recall being claustrophobic, sweating like a dancing mule, and otherwise just barely able to hold my shit together. I finally get up there and I'm on the wrong floor which requires me to go all the way to the bottom and try again. Repeat this for about three hours and that was my night - with some variations of terror each time, of course, one of which had birds smashing into the glass, beaks half through the glass a la Alfred Hitchcock style.
It's Thanksgiving and the family dinner I'm going to is on the 60th floor of some really old NYC building. The elevator is so small that it barley fits two people. If you've ever been to the St. Louis Arch and rode to the top, it was like that, except it had the extra added bonus of being on the outside of the building with old glass windows that rattled as it jerked along the outside of the building. I'm terrified to be in this thing. It's stopping and starting and you can hear things creaking and cracking. About half way up the thing turns into a Wonkavator and cuts through the inside of the building. Random stop - there's a swimming pool, outside, that goes around the perimeter of the building. It's like an infinity pool, except over the edge is about 30 floors down. Hundreds of kids in there, strange. Back to the wonkevator and I head out the other side of the building to take on the next 30 floors just like the first 30. I recall being claustrophobic, sweating like a dancing mule, and otherwise just barely able to hold my shit together. I finally get up there and I'm on the wrong floor which requires me to go all the way to the bottom and try again. Repeat this for about three hours and that was my night - with some variations of terror each time, of course, one of which had birds smashing into the glass, beaks half through the glass a la Alfred Hitchcock style.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Memory
The dreams have been slow lately. My mind must be adjusting to the chantix at this point. The cravings are basically gone, but I'm still 'cued' to smoke at certain times. I'm working hard at it for sure.
I think my brain was saving all it's energy for last night. This dream has pretty much put me in a really funky mood this morning. It was so vivid and so emotional... I'm having trouble detaching from it. I think I need to go for a run at lunch to clear my head. Be prepared, my only reader, it may make you cry:
July 13 -
I woke up on the beach. My wife was there. I cried when I saw her because I was overwhelmed with a feeling that I hadn't seen her in forever. She just stared at me, stoic. She seemed much older now. I had this strange feeling of remembering all sorts of things that had just recently happened. I definitely remembered the accident. We were driving back from a party. We were arguing about something when out of nowhere this car just started knocking people off the road. I swerved to get out of the way but it was too late. We went smashing into all sorts of other cars. I remember the windows shattering on both sides of the car. I thought we were okay. She got out on her side and I got out on mine. I felt dizzy. The airbags definitely didn't go off like they should have. I remember running around to see if my wife was okay and when she nodded yes, I remember the ground coming up on me fast, I was passing out. I was badly injured. I remember the warmth of the blood creeping over the side of my face, then nothing.
I asked her about the accident and she seemed annoyed. I couldn't figure out why. I started asking more questions and she began to cry. I figured it out. That had been 11 years ago and I had been living my life with absolutely no memory of anything since the accident. We were living at the beach as she needed to be near the family to help care for me. I held her hand and we walked down from the beach back towards town. It was summer and people where everywhere. I asked her why I was asleep on the beach and she told me that the waves calm me down and it's usually the only time I sleep. She takes me up there every afternoon when she gets home from work. She reads and I sleep. I don’t ever talk, ever. I kept asking questions as we crossed the street into the neighborhoods. This had happened twice before. The last time was five years ago. I suddenly remembered things and I was coherent. Then as fast as it came, it was gone. I don't remember that.
As we walked, I started seeing familiar faces and each one would overwhelm my senses with memories and I'd start to cry. Most of the people were so shocked to see me crying that they, too, became overwhelmed. It wasn't long before word got out that I was 'back'. We walked to her parents house, I held her hand for dear life. I hadn't seen 4th ave in what felt like 100 years. The house was twice the size it was before. When we got up to the door, this beautiful young girl threw the door open - it was my niece and I hadn't seen her since she was a toddler. I couldn't take the emotions and had to run away, my wife chasing me down to calm me.
This went on for hours as she filled me in on things that had happened in my life and around the world. My grandma passed about a year after the accident which made me sad. The worst news was that my dad passed about two years ago. My parents had a tough time after the accident and she said my mom hadn't been the same since. My dad passing was the straw that broke the camels back and my mom had a breakdown about a year ago and was living with my sister. I had to see them. My wife wanted to wait to see if my new found memory stayed or went away like last time. She said that the last time this happened my mom and dad jumped in a car to come see me, but by the time they got here I was back to my old, no memory self. She didn't want my mom to go through that again.
I spent the rest of the day walking with my wife, seeing people that I hadn't seen in over a decade. Hugging them and kissing them. We had a nice dinner with the family and snuggled up into bed together. We laid there kissing and crying, afraid that this would once again end. My wife drifted off to sleep in my arms... and that's all I remember.
I think my brain was saving all it's energy for last night. This dream has pretty much put me in a really funky mood this morning. It was so vivid and so emotional... I'm having trouble detaching from it. I think I need to go for a run at lunch to clear my head. Be prepared, my only reader, it may make you cry:
July 13 -
I woke up on the beach. My wife was there. I cried when I saw her because I was overwhelmed with a feeling that I hadn't seen her in forever. She just stared at me, stoic. She seemed much older now. I had this strange feeling of remembering all sorts of things that had just recently happened. I definitely remembered the accident. We were driving back from a party. We were arguing about something when out of nowhere this car just started knocking people off the road. I swerved to get out of the way but it was too late. We went smashing into all sorts of other cars. I remember the windows shattering on both sides of the car. I thought we were okay. She got out on her side and I got out on mine. I felt dizzy. The airbags definitely didn't go off like they should have. I remember running around to see if my wife was okay and when she nodded yes, I remember the ground coming up on me fast, I was passing out. I was badly injured. I remember the warmth of the blood creeping over the side of my face, then nothing.
I asked her about the accident and she seemed annoyed. I couldn't figure out why. I started asking more questions and she began to cry. I figured it out. That had been 11 years ago and I had been living my life with absolutely no memory of anything since the accident. We were living at the beach as she needed to be near the family to help care for me. I held her hand and we walked down from the beach back towards town. It was summer and people where everywhere. I asked her why I was asleep on the beach and she told me that the waves calm me down and it's usually the only time I sleep. She takes me up there every afternoon when she gets home from work. She reads and I sleep. I don’t ever talk, ever. I kept asking questions as we crossed the street into the neighborhoods. This had happened twice before. The last time was five years ago. I suddenly remembered things and I was coherent. Then as fast as it came, it was gone. I don't remember that.
As we walked, I started seeing familiar faces and each one would overwhelm my senses with memories and I'd start to cry. Most of the people were so shocked to see me crying that they, too, became overwhelmed. It wasn't long before word got out that I was 'back'. We walked to her parents house, I held her hand for dear life. I hadn't seen 4th ave in what felt like 100 years. The house was twice the size it was before. When we got up to the door, this beautiful young girl threw the door open - it was my niece and I hadn't seen her since she was a toddler. I couldn't take the emotions and had to run away, my wife chasing me down to calm me.
This went on for hours as she filled me in on things that had happened in my life and around the world. My grandma passed about a year after the accident which made me sad. The worst news was that my dad passed about two years ago. My parents had a tough time after the accident and she said my mom hadn't been the same since. My dad passing was the straw that broke the camels back and my mom had a breakdown about a year ago and was living with my sister. I had to see them. My wife wanted to wait to see if my new found memory stayed or went away like last time. She said that the last time this happened my mom and dad jumped in a car to come see me, but by the time they got here I was back to my old, no memory self. She didn't want my mom to go through that again.
I spent the rest of the day walking with my wife, seeing people that I hadn't seen in over a decade. Hugging them and kissing them. We had a nice dinner with the family and snuggled up into bed together. We laid there kissing and crying, afraid that this would once again end. My wife drifted off to sleep in my arms... and that's all I remember.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Actually, I just remembered one
We were having a cookout with a few people before a wedding we had to go to. Matisyahu showed up and I had to go out and buy kosher hot dogs. There was more to it, I just don't remember.
I got nada
I haven't been here in a while, I know. Let's be honest though, it's really just you and me reading this. The no smoking is going well. I work from home which has always been tough. I can just smoke whenever I feel like it. Those cravings are gone and I generally avoid the back porch as that's my 'spot'. We were up at the beach over July 4th and I did ok. I did buy a pack which lasted the entire four days we were there. I honestly consider that a bit of a victory. This week has been pretty good too... one slip up on Wednesday night. Walked into a smoky bar and that was it, I had to have one. It was pretty damn good.
The chantix is totally doing it's thing though I must say I feel a little different than usual. I told my wife to keep an eye on me - they keep talking about these side effects.
As for the dreams - nothing noteworthy. In fact, I've been using a breathright strip on my snoot for the past three nights and I've never slept so well. I don’t remember a damn thing which is wild. So, no updates there.
Have a great weekend... I'll check in at some point.
G
The chantix is totally doing it's thing though I must say I feel a little different than usual. I told my wife to keep an eye on me - they keep talking about these side effects.
As for the dreams - nothing noteworthy. In fact, I've been using a breathright strip on my snoot for the past three nights and I've never slept so well. I don’t remember a damn thing which is wild. So, no updates there.
Have a great weekend... I'll check in at some point.
G
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Blah
Just had a ciggy. Was out too long and didn't get my meds as early as I'd like. Had some drinks with friends... have a few ciggys in the house... bad move I think. Mom called late - called her back... she didn't get the job. Both my parents out of work for a looooong time now. She said 'not sure how I'm going to pay the bills'. Never heard that.
You want to feel old? Watch your parents feel vulnerable. The indestructible duo of my youth... wondering how to pay bills. Ugh. Second mortgage city I imagine... not the place to be in the fall of your life. They're strong, they'll be fine. Right?
Late night stress with a late night dose of Chantix - and two ciggy's. That's right - 2. The second I post this, I'm going for another. Later...
You want to feel old? Watch your parents feel vulnerable. The indestructible duo of my youth... wondering how to pay bills. Ugh. Second mortgage city I imagine... not the place to be in the fall of your life. They're strong, they'll be fine. Right?
Late night stress with a late night dose of Chantix - and two ciggy's. That's right - 2. The second I post this, I'm going for another. Later...
Sleepy Sleepy where art thou?
What a night. I woke up at 130 to pee and noticed the dog was gone. That's strange. She's usually the first asleep and the last awake. I checked my office thinking perhaps I had accidentally kicked her out of bed. Not there. I went downstairs to find her on the floor in the living room, panting. She bolted to the door when she saw me. Here we go again. So we ran outside where she took a decent size pee and a poop that made her proud. I can't believe she didn't wake me up! Okay, so crisis averted and we head back to bed around 200.
I'm startled at 330 to a very low helicopter flying above the house. As the crow flies, we're less than 3 miles from The Pentagon, so helicopters flying over are as common as birds flying over. No big deal. It's rare that they do it in the middle of the night, however, and certainly never that low as they do their best not to piss the neighborhoods off. So I listen, and I feel it go over, and I can actually see it out the window from my bed. Damn that is low I thought. I close my eyes and try to drift off to sleep again to get back on the Casino Train (see below) I was having so much fun on. About 2 minutes later, another one flies over, feels even lower than the last. I'm talking less than 250 feet low. Jesus! 2 minutes later another... then another... okay, so I'm right in the middle of 'we're being attacked and we're at war in the middle of the night' and 'this Chantix is seriously screwing with my head'. Around this time my wife even rolls over to see what's going on - and that woman could sleep through a fireworks show. I finally have to get up to see what's going on... it's the local police (I suspect) and they are looking for someone in our neighborhood with one of those giant lights. Turns out it was one chopper, not multiple, and he was using our roof as his perimeter. This shit went on until almost 530. I could not sleep through it as hard as I tried. I contemplated helping them look just to end it.
July 2 -
I'm on a train with my wife, very bored, I go wandering around. Oddly enough I found the casino car! What a find on a long boring train ride! They have two different games and I don't recognize either of them. It's a strange setup. You have to put your cash into a machine that takes it and tell the guy behind the counter what you want to do. I post up at what I believe is the blackjack machine. Put in 50 bucks and promptly realize it's not blackjack at all and start losing money. At that very moment, my bro-in-law, Ryan, enters the car and I waive him over. This kid has the Midas Touch with gambling and instantly makes me a few hundred dollars off my bet. We move to the other 'machine' and start playing something else - another game I have no idea what it is - Ryan start making a fortune. It was good times.
A few minutes later I find myself in the water slide car. There's a wading pool and a this odd slide that uses water jets to shoot you around in a big circle. It was a blast! I was enjoying it just fine when suddenly a bachelorette party came in to join the fun. Naturally, it's the ugliest bachelorette party I've ever seen in my life. The bride to be jumps in the slide and she's wearing a purple ballerina outfit and all her junk his hanging out. I left.
July 2 -
I'm in the middle east in some sort of military capacity. I have this friggin giant pistol (a reoccurring theme), but I can mostly handle it this time. My job is to take photos and document some of the things going on. My pistol comes with all these different attachments. One of them is a silencer, cool. The other is a camera attachment. So basically, I slap this camera attachment on the front and I literally point and shoot. So we're on this mission looking for some combatants and it's my job to take the pictures. I toss the camera attachment on there and find myself in some underground cave thing with an entire platoon. They find one of the guys they're looking for so naturally I want to take pictures. I raise my camera gun, point it at our guys, and shoot! Turns out camera gun, while taking pictures, also shoots bullets. I don’t remember much, I don't think I killed anyone, but I remember that not going well at all.
I'm startled at 330 to a very low helicopter flying above the house. As the crow flies, we're less than 3 miles from The Pentagon, so helicopters flying over are as common as birds flying over. No big deal. It's rare that they do it in the middle of the night, however, and certainly never that low as they do their best not to piss the neighborhoods off. So I listen, and I feel it go over, and I can actually see it out the window from my bed. Damn that is low I thought. I close my eyes and try to drift off to sleep again to get back on the Casino Train (see below) I was having so much fun on. About 2 minutes later, another one flies over, feels even lower than the last. I'm talking less than 250 feet low. Jesus! 2 minutes later another... then another... okay, so I'm right in the middle of 'we're being attacked and we're at war in the middle of the night' and 'this Chantix is seriously screwing with my head'. Around this time my wife even rolls over to see what's going on - and that woman could sleep through a fireworks show. I finally have to get up to see what's going on... it's the local police (I suspect) and they are looking for someone in our neighborhood with one of those giant lights. Turns out it was one chopper, not multiple, and he was using our roof as his perimeter. This shit went on until almost 530. I could not sleep through it as hard as I tried. I contemplated helping them look just to end it.
July 2 -
I'm on a train with my wife, very bored, I go wandering around. Oddly enough I found the casino car! What a find on a long boring train ride! They have two different games and I don't recognize either of them. It's a strange setup. You have to put your cash into a machine that takes it and tell the guy behind the counter what you want to do. I post up at what I believe is the blackjack machine. Put in 50 bucks and promptly realize it's not blackjack at all and start losing money. At that very moment, my bro-in-law, Ryan, enters the car and I waive him over. This kid has the Midas Touch with gambling and instantly makes me a few hundred dollars off my bet. We move to the other 'machine' and start playing something else - another game I have no idea what it is - Ryan start making a fortune. It was good times.
A few minutes later I find myself in the water slide car. There's a wading pool and a this odd slide that uses water jets to shoot you around in a big circle. It was a blast! I was enjoying it just fine when suddenly a bachelorette party came in to join the fun. Naturally, it's the ugliest bachelorette party I've ever seen in my life. The bride to be jumps in the slide and she's wearing a purple ballerina outfit and all her junk his hanging out. I left.
July 2 -
I'm in the middle east in some sort of military capacity. I have this friggin giant pistol (a reoccurring theme), but I can mostly handle it this time. My job is to take photos and document some of the things going on. My pistol comes with all these different attachments. One of them is a silencer, cool. The other is a camera attachment. So basically, I slap this camera attachment on the front and I literally point and shoot. So we're on this mission looking for some combatants and it's my job to take the pictures. I toss the camera attachment on there and find myself in some underground cave thing with an entire platoon. They find one of the guys they're looking for so naturally I want to take pictures. I raise my camera gun, point it at our guys, and shoot! Turns out camera gun, while taking pictures, also shoots bullets. I don’t remember much, I don't think I killed anyone, but I remember that not going well at all.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Buffet Bonanza
A peaceful nights rest. Ahhhh. So basically, if this material starts to get boring, I'll just take the meds late at night. I took them around 7 and was in in bed by 11. Asleep by 11:02. I remember waking myself up snoring which was interesting. Must be so sexy for my wife!
The quitting is going well. Chantix really does it. If I have a craving, I try to ignore it and three hours later I remember that I wanted a ciggy. This weekend at the shore should really be my proving grounds.
Many of my dreams revolved around food and I woke up starving which might explain the hot dog with relish and mustard I devoured around 815 this morning. Here are two I recall:
July 1 -
I was at a buffet at a resort somewhere. I was dining alone and surrounded by Asian businessmen. I was absolutely starving. You could only make one trip to the buffet and all they had were little tiny plates. I piled so much stuff on my plate it must have been four feet high. The Asian businessmen were marveling at my balancing ability and clapping for me... I started to put on a show for them and moments later toppled my only chance at dinner onto the ground. They all laughed and I walked away hungry.
July 1 -
Again at a resort, I was fishing this time. Trolling in some strange lake with a local. My first catch was some sort of crocodile. It was small, maybe 3 feet long. I wasn't touching it. The local guy had me bring it on the boat so he could get the hook out and release it. As he pulled the hook out, the croc latched right onto his face and really screwed him up. I was trying to pull it off his face and I remember him screaming not to pull. Instead he told me to tickle it, which I did and it promptly released and scurried off into the water. Dude was missing his nose but he seemed fine, so I didn't tell him. Later in this same dream I was at the resort and had become friendly with a couple on their honeymoon. They had come across some weed and were trying to get me to partake. I finally did and just as it set in that I was very messed up, a category 4 hurricane hit the island and we all had to scramble. As usual, I could not find a safe place to hide.
It wasn’t particularly scary, just strange.
The quitting is going well. Chantix really does it. If I have a craving, I try to ignore it and three hours later I remember that I wanted a ciggy. This weekend at the shore should really be my proving grounds.
Many of my dreams revolved around food and I woke up starving which might explain the hot dog with relish and mustard I devoured around 815 this morning. Here are two I recall:
July 1 -
I was at a buffet at a resort somewhere. I was dining alone and surrounded by Asian businessmen. I was absolutely starving. You could only make one trip to the buffet and all they had were little tiny plates. I piled so much stuff on my plate it must have been four feet high. The Asian businessmen were marveling at my balancing ability and clapping for me... I started to put on a show for them and moments later toppled my only chance at dinner onto the ground. They all laughed and I walked away hungry.
July 1 -
Again at a resort, I was fishing this time. Trolling in some strange lake with a local. My first catch was some sort of crocodile. It was small, maybe 3 feet long. I wasn't touching it. The local guy had me bring it on the boat so he could get the hook out and release it. As he pulled the hook out, the croc latched right onto his face and really screwed him up. I was trying to pull it off his face and I remember him screaming not to pull. Instead he told me to tickle it, which I did and it promptly released and scurried off into the water. Dude was missing his nose but he seemed fine, so I didn't tell him. Later in this same dream I was at the resort and had become friendly with a couple on their honeymoon. They had come across some weed and were trying to get me to partake. I finally did and just as it set in that I was very messed up, a category 4 hurricane hit the island and we all had to scramble. As usual, I could not find a safe place to hide.
It wasn’t particularly scary, just strange.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Ask and ye shall receive
Yesterday I made mention that the dreams hadn't been as terrifying as anticipated. I usually take my PM dose of the dream crack around 8 or so. Last night I had forgotten about it and took it on my way to bed around 11. Well, the secrets out... taking that shit right before bed will bring on the crazy in no time flat. I woke up short of breath and in a full sweat around 330 and never really got back to sleep:
June 30 -
I'm on the balcony of our townhome, it's late, I'm smoking (Chantix only works while you're awake, BTW). It's definitely my house, but has no resemblance and there's a giant office building off my balcony that appears to be under construction. Strange glow in the sky and suddenly I notice hundreds of commercial airliners that normally make a pretty line to head to DCA are basically all darting for the Atlantic Ocean as fast as possible. Suddenly there is a huge surge of electricity and the office building I'm looking at bursts into flames. The heat is so intense I remember my cigarette burning twice as fast as it was supposed to. My face feels like it's melting. When the initial chaos stops, I can see the resulting fire is moving very quickly towards my building. Where is my wife? Where is the dog? I always have plans for this sort of thing but I'm helpless. I grab my cell and call 911 only to have the operator tell me half the city is on fire and do what I can on my own. The flames are actually on the posts of my deck. I know there is a hose down there somewhere. I grab the only extinguisher in the house and hightail it. Naturally, the only way to get to the back of my house is like a 1,000 meter dash. By the time I get around, the deck is engulfed in flames. I look up and there is my wife, screaming behind a pane of glass, holding the dog, banging on the glass for me to help them. She's hysterical, the dog is trying to squirm out of her arms. I'm screaming at her to get out. I start using the extinguisher and it's worthless. I find the hose that's back there, turn the water on, and look down to find my hands are are caked with bubbling melting plastic - the hose has melted.
By this time there are neighbors crawling around everywhere, all freaked out, no one knows what to do or how to help or where to go. I start the trek back to my front door as fast as I can, run inside, wife and dog are nowhere to be found. I search high and low and for the life of me can't find them. I swear I hear the dog crying, but don't know from where. I bolt upstairs, grab our safe box with the important things and run for it. Outside, the fires have started to die off and there are half charred people everywhere. They're crying, clothes half burned off, searching through rubble for pets and people. The building we live in is destroyed. I can't find my family. Last thing I remember is our neighbor putting his hand on my shoulder... I looked back and he was shaking his head. They were gone. I passed out.
Mental note - take PM Chantix dose early.
June 30 -
I'm on the balcony of our townhome, it's late, I'm smoking (Chantix only works while you're awake, BTW). It's definitely my house, but has no resemblance and there's a giant office building off my balcony that appears to be under construction. Strange glow in the sky and suddenly I notice hundreds of commercial airliners that normally make a pretty line to head to DCA are basically all darting for the Atlantic Ocean as fast as possible. Suddenly there is a huge surge of electricity and the office building I'm looking at bursts into flames. The heat is so intense I remember my cigarette burning twice as fast as it was supposed to. My face feels like it's melting. When the initial chaos stops, I can see the resulting fire is moving very quickly towards my building. Where is my wife? Where is the dog? I always have plans for this sort of thing but I'm helpless. I grab my cell and call 911 only to have the operator tell me half the city is on fire and do what I can on my own. The flames are actually on the posts of my deck. I know there is a hose down there somewhere. I grab the only extinguisher in the house and hightail it. Naturally, the only way to get to the back of my house is like a 1,000 meter dash. By the time I get around, the deck is engulfed in flames. I look up and there is my wife, screaming behind a pane of glass, holding the dog, banging on the glass for me to help them. She's hysterical, the dog is trying to squirm out of her arms. I'm screaming at her to get out. I start using the extinguisher and it's worthless. I find the hose that's back there, turn the water on, and look down to find my hands are are caked with bubbling melting plastic - the hose has melted.
By this time there are neighbors crawling around everywhere, all freaked out, no one knows what to do or how to help or where to go. I start the trek back to my front door as fast as I can, run inside, wife and dog are nowhere to be found. I search high and low and for the life of me can't find them. I swear I hear the dog crying, but don't know from where. I bolt upstairs, grab our safe box with the important things and run for it. Outside, the fires have started to die off and there are half charred people everywhere. They're crying, clothes half burned off, searching through rubble for pets and people. The building we live in is destroyed. I can't find my family. Last thing I remember is our neighbor putting his hand on my shoulder... I looked back and he was shaking his head. They were gone. I passed out.
Mental note - take PM Chantix dose early.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Smoking Vs McDonalds
Of the many lifestyle changes I've tried to enact as I get older, one was to quit fast food. Not for good, really, because how long can one actually go without a Big Mac, or a Taco Supreme with Fire Sauce, or a Whopper dripping in mayo? Dang that stuff is like crack. It also has another thing in common with crack - it'll kill you. I recall sitting in DFW airport one day after a particularly late night of entertaining clients. I felt like shit, my flight was delayed, and like an oasis in the desert I spotted the golden arches. I didn't think twice, I went for it. On this particular visit it was for a double quarter pounder with cheese, fries, and a sprite. I like to put the hot mustard sauce on my QP's, you should try it, heaven. Anyway - I was alone, so I had to find the right place to sit that didn't make me feel uncomfortable sitting alone. I found a spot on the edge of a heavily trafficked area so I could at least people watch. It's always great at a hub airport. As I plowed into my McDonalds, I noticed something... heavy people may see you eating it and think, "dang, that looks really good". However, when 'in shape' people see you eating McDonalds, they have a tendency to give you the most shameful look - like, "I can't believe you're doing that to your body." I imagine it's the same face I make when I see an obese family going out for a Friday night dinner of KFC. It's not a good feeling to be on the receiving end of that. As I cried into my french fries, I vowed from that day forward to only eat fast food in the privacy of my car!
Smoking in public makes me feel the exact same way. Like scum. A degenerate An outcast. Smoking is for losers. People with no self control. Why would I willingly (and repeatedly, mind you) ingest something that is proven to kill me?
Because they make me feel so good at that exact moment, that's why. Ugh.
Onto the dreams - I'd like to point out that the dreams haven't been nearly as psychotic as I anticipated. Vowing to keep track of them, I may have psyched myself out. They are vivid as anything, just not all that terrifying the last few nights. I just saw a guy post something on Facebook that said, "Chantix gave me nightmares from underneath hell but definitely cut the cig cravings to nothing." I loved the comment.
June 29 -
I was in the hospital caring for my mom. She was fine, but whatever it was required an overnight stay. She was sharing a room with a bunch of other people. As she lay sleeping, a patient walked in and was really messed up. He had skin hanging off his arms, his face was annihilated, but he seemed in good spirits none the less. I asked him what had happened and he told me he and a friend of his were really stoned and were throwing pennies down an old well. They got bored of this and decided to see what would happen if they put a toaster on a long extension cord, turned it on, and sent it down. As he tossed it, the cord got wrapped around this dudes leg and when it hit the water, it completely fried him. He was kind of laughing about it. Then he mentioned that his friend had been tripping on acid at the time and when he saw him all burned up, he freaked out, and is now in the psych ward. It was strange to say the least.
A few minutes later his friends came to visit him and they had all sorts of drugs with them. Weed, hash, pot brownies - they kept offering me all sorts of drugs and I kept declining (I mean, I had to take care of my mom not to mention WE ARE IN A HOSPITAL). I finally asked for something to take home for later and this girl handed me a bag of weed. Just then, my dad was walking into the room and for whatever reason, I could not get this baggie into my pocket. It just wouldn't go. It ripped open and suddenly there was like 3 pounds of weed on the floor in front of me - in a hospital - with my sick mom asleep in front of me - and my dad standing there staring at me. Awful.
June 29 -
A reoccurring theme lately - not being able to get where I'm going.
I'm at a hotel in Florida working a big trade show. The event is over and as usual, I'm looking for fun customers to take to the bars. Somehow I manage to grab a few great customers and Paris Hilton. Now, I'm not the biggest Paris fan, but I'm thinking it'd be pretty cool to have a few drinks with her. So I send them off to the bar and I'm going to meet them there. I had to go get my wife because there was no way she was going to miss this. I had to go pick her up some where. I spent what felt like the next three hours completely lost. My car broke down. I walked into a gas station to find an ATM, it wouldn't work. I found a bank an hour later of walking and finally got some cash. I couldn't find a cab. I finally found a cab and it got t-boned by a truck in the next intersection. I finally started walking back to the hotel. Couldn't find it. Lost my cell phone somewhere, couldn't call my wife or anyone to let them know what was going on. I finally got back to the hotel and needed to go up one level. All the elevators were busted. The escalators all went the wrong way. There were no stairs. It was complete an utter frustration. This bled into some dream about the Coast Guard doing practice maneuvers in San Diego and I was watching from a bridge. There were guys parachuting from choppers onto the decks of these huge ships. Problem was that most of them were missing the deck and you could see them getting sucked into the wash of the ships.
That's the last thing I remember.
Smoking in public makes me feel the exact same way. Like scum. A degenerate An outcast. Smoking is for losers. People with no self control. Why would I willingly (and repeatedly, mind you) ingest something that is proven to kill me?
Because they make me feel so good at that exact moment, that's why. Ugh.
Onto the dreams - I'd like to point out that the dreams haven't been nearly as psychotic as I anticipated. Vowing to keep track of them, I may have psyched myself out. They are vivid as anything, just not all that terrifying the last few nights. I just saw a guy post something on Facebook that said, "Chantix gave me nightmares from underneath hell but definitely cut the cig cravings to nothing." I loved the comment.
June 29 -
I was in the hospital caring for my mom. She was fine, but whatever it was required an overnight stay. She was sharing a room with a bunch of other people. As she lay sleeping, a patient walked in and was really messed up. He had skin hanging off his arms, his face was annihilated, but he seemed in good spirits none the less. I asked him what had happened and he told me he and a friend of his were really stoned and were throwing pennies down an old well. They got bored of this and decided to see what would happen if they put a toaster on a long extension cord, turned it on, and sent it down. As he tossed it, the cord got wrapped around this dudes leg and when it hit the water, it completely fried him. He was kind of laughing about it. Then he mentioned that his friend had been tripping on acid at the time and when he saw him all burned up, he freaked out, and is now in the psych ward. It was strange to say the least.
A few minutes later his friends came to visit him and they had all sorts of drugs with them. Weed, hash, pot brownies - they kept offering me all sorts of drugs and I kept declining (I mean, I had to take care of my mom not to mention WE ARE IN A HOSPITAL). I finally asked for something to take home for later and this girl handed me a bag of weed. Just then, my dad was walking into the room and for whatever reason, I could not get this baggie into my pocket. It just wouldn't go. It ripped open and suddenly there was like 3 pounds of weed on the floor in front of me - in a hospital - with my sick mom asleep in front of me - and my dad standing there staring at me. Awful.
June 29 -
A reoccurring theme lately - not being able to get where I'm going.
I'm at a hotel in Florida working a big trade show. The event is over and as usual, I'm looking for fun customers to take to the bars. Somehow I manage to grab a few great customers and Paris Hilton. Now, I'm not the biggest Paris fan, but I'm thinking it'd be pretty cool to have a few drinks with her. So I send them off to the bar and I'm going to meet them there. I had to go get my wife because there was no way she was going to miss this. I had to go pick her up some where. I spent what felt like the next three hours completely lost. My car broke down. I walked into a gas station to find an ATM, it wouldn't work. I found a bank an hour later of walking and finally got some cash. I couldn't find a cab. I finally found a cab and it got t-boned by a truck in the next intersection. I finally started walking back to the hotel. Couldn't find it. Lost my cell phone somewhere, couldn't call my wife or anyone to let them know what was going on. I finally got back to the hotel and needed to go up one level. All the elevators were busted. The escalators all went the wrong way. There were no stairs. It was complete an utter frustration. This bled into some dream about the Coast Guard doing practice maneuvers in San Diego and I was watching from a bridge. There were guys parachuting from choppers onto the decks of these huge ships. Problem was that most of them were missing the deck and you could see them getting sucked into the wash of the ships.
That's the last thing I remember.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Wii Shall See
My fist Saturday after my quit date. Sweet. It's a beautiful day, I got a decent nights sleep, and I'm fresh off running a little over 3 miles through the picturesque village of Shirlington. Going to get some pho in a little while with my wife, then off to do whatever the hell we want as we have no plans, no kids, and basically no responsibilities today. This of course will likely lead to a little day drinking somewhere. Apparently there is a Peroni Festival downtown DC today - the Italian in me can't stay away.
After drinking no less than 20 bud lights between the two of us, me and my bro-in-law gambled on Wii Golf until the wii hours of the morning (of which I have at least one $5 bill to account for my game). I should have expected nothing less than the following very odd dream:
June 27 -
I'm in the Wii golf game. I'm actually walking the course that I just played 15 times while I was conscious. I'm playing against Taylor and there he is, all cartooned out. I'm a bit freaked out by the whole thing. Taylor starts yelling at me to go because he 'can't spend all night playing in this god damn game'. Wild. We're on the 9th hole. It's an island hole but there's like 4 islands. It's my go and I need to at least make par to get out this video game. I'm scared to death because while I'm a scratch in Wii golf, my real golf game is abysmal at best. I tee off and immediately hear this very high decibel 'wobble wobble' thunder out of sky- my shot went arrant because I swung too hard. It went right in the drink. Taylor is screaming at me because I only had the one ball. I have no pockets, no golf bag, no fingers even. He takes his shot and nails the fairway. I look up, and he's on the next island already. I have no ball, I can't figure out how to get over there - there's no bridge. It's awful. I see Taylor hit his next two shots and he's on the green. He two puts for his par and - poof - he's gone. I just stood there - fingerless, no legs, staring out at this imaginary ocean until I just drifted out of the dream...
After drinking no less than 20 bud lights between the two of us, me and my bro-in-law gambled on Wii Golf until the wii hours of the morning (of which I have at least one $5 bill to account for my game). I should have expected nothing less than the following very odd dream:
June 27 -
I'm in the Wii golf game. I'm actually walking the course that I just played 15 times while I was conscious. I'm playing against Taylor and there he is, all cartooned out. I'm a bit freaked out by the whole thing. Taylor starts yelling at me to go because he 'can't spend all night playing in this god damn game'. Wild. We're on the 9th hole. It's an island hole but there's like 4 islands. It's my go and I need to at least make par to get out this video game. I'm scared to death because while I'm a scratch in Wii golf, my real golf game is abysmal at best. I tee off and immediately hear this very high decibel 'wobble wobble' thunder out of sky- my shot went arrant because I swung too hard. It went right in the drink. Taylor is screaming at me because I only had the one ball. I have no pockets, no golf bag, no fingers even. He takes his shot and nails the fairway. I look up, and he's on the next island already. I have no ball, I can't figure out how to get over there - there's no bridge. It's awful. I see Taylor hit his next two shots and he's on the green. He two puts for his par and - poof - he's gone. I just stood there - fingerless, no legs, staring out at this imaginary ocean until I just drifted out of the dream...
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Show Cancelled
Maybe it was the spicy jalapeño cheese burger I had an hour before bed, maybe it was sheer exhaustion, I'm not sure. I can tell you that other than sporadic pops of golfing, cooking, an ex-girlfriend in overalls, something to do with the dog and trying to push a giant beach ball around... the HD theater of my dreams was dark last night.
Quit day tomorrow!! (see, the two exclamation points are basically emoticons conveying my positive outlook and relative excitedness to quit)
Quit day tomorrow!! (see, the two exclamation points are basically emoticons conveying my positive outlook and relative excitedness to quit)
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
All Quiet on the Poopy Front
Sweet Jesus! My dogs rhea has come and gone. This was a quick one! A great nights sleep and a veritable mini-series of wild dreams last night. I only recall one in detail. Quickly approaching my final quit date - trying to get excited for it. Trying.
6/24 -
I'm in New Orleans (my home town) and I'm extremely late to get to a dinner with my family at a restaurant way on the other side of Esplanade and I'm on Canal. We were all down there to see my brother in-law, Taylor Carson, perform at the Super Dome. So I'm running down Royal Street as fast as I can and it's of course jammed with tourists. I slowed down to get through some people and two women flag me down, very interested to hear where I'm going. One is absolutely gorgeous and the other... meh. For whatever reason, I'm speaking in a New England accent which they found irresistible. I explained I had to go to whatever restaurant - they begged me to stay, but I left. I finally made it to the restaurant and it was a debacle. My parents were in charge of this large dinner and my dad had accidentally ordered everything to go. 12 of us ready to eat and all of our food was packed in boxes. I marched everyone across town to my house where I berated my father the entire time. Everyone left. Later that night, Taylor returned from his show (which I missed) to store all of the band equipment in my place.
The next morning I'm doing dishes in the kitchen and I see the less attractive of the two girls from yesterday walking up to my door. I waive her in and we start chatting in the kitchen. Not two seconds later, I see the exact same girl walking out of my front door with Taylors guitar case and a huge amp. There are two of them and they're robbing me. I start freaking out and grab the girl in the kitchen by the wrists and start muscling her out the front door. She's fighting back. I somehow managed to lock the door on my way out, so I knew the house was now safe. That move really pissed her off. Out on the street, she's putting up a fight and I let her know that I will not hesitate to pummel her face in if that stuff isn't returned immediately. Right as I said that, a group of men came up behind me and pull my arms behind my back - screaming at me to STFU, etc, you don't treat ladies like this. There are normal people walking around everywhere and I'm screaming at them to call 911. They all ignore me because they thought I was hurting an innocent woman. I took a savage beating, all the while my hands are held behind my back. I recall ribs cracking and my eyes swelling shut before I finally hit the ground.
No more talking to strange girls in my dreams.
Later,
G
6/24 -
I'm in New Orleans (my home town) and I'm extremely late to get to a dinner with my family at a restaurant way on the other side of Esplanade and I'm on Canal. We were all down there to see my brother in-law, Taylor Carson, perform at the Super Dome. So I'm running down Royal Street as fast as I can and it's of course jammed with tourists. I slowed down to get through some people and two women flag me down, very interested to hear where I'm going. One is absolutely gorgeous and the other... meh. For whatever reason, I'm speaking in a New England accent which they found irresistible. I explained I had to go to whatever restaurant - they begged me to stay, but I left. I finally made it to the restaurant and it was a debacle. My parents were in charge of this large dinner and my dad had accidentally ordered everything to go. 12 of us ready to eat and all of our food was packed in boxes. I marched everyone across town to my house where I berated my father the entire time. Everyone left. Later that night, Taylor returned from his show (which I missed) to store all of the band equipment in my place.
The next morning I'm doing dishes in the kitchen and I see the less attractive of the two girls from yesterday walking up to my door. I waive her in and we start chatting in the kitchen. Not two seconds later, I see the exact same girl walking out of my front door with Taylors guitar case and a huge amp. There are two of them and they're robbing me. I start freaking out and grab the girl in the kitchen by the wrists and start muscling her out the front door. She's fighting back. I somehow managed to lock the door on my way out, so I knew the house was now safe. That move really pissed her off. Out on the street, she's putting up a fight and I let her know that I will not hesitate to pummel her face in if that stuff isn't returned immediately. Right as I said that, a group of men came up behind me and pull my arms behind my back - screaming at me to STFU, etc, you don't treat ladies like this. There are normal people walking around everywhere and I'm screaming at them to call 911. They all ignore me because they thought I was hurting an innocent woman. I took a savage beating, all the while my hands are held behind my back. I recall ribs cracking and my eyes swelling shut before I finally hit the ground.
No more talking to strange girls in my dreams.
Later,
G
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Dreamus Interuptus
As you may suspect, that cute little profile pic of me is not me at all. It's our little girl, Jersey. She's a beagle mix of some sort that joined our family a little over three years ago. Timid little thing, but sweet and adorable none the less.
Adorable until she eats something she's not supposed to eat and gets the shits.
We took our normal early evening walk yesterday and after she ate her dinner, I found her crying by the door. Never a good sign. We went out to our normal spot and she let loose - grunting - very confused. She's good for one of these episodes two or three times a year.
She made it until 330AM and then it was game on. I kept clothes next to the bed so I could spring up like a fireman and roll out, alarms blaring. I think we went three or four times over the next few hours. 500AM I had to get my wife up to help, I was exhausted. Good times. As I type - she's staring at me, looking to go again.
Needless to say, I didn't have much time for dreaming, though I did have a particularly terrifying one somewhere between the doggy trotts.
6/23 -
I was in a house with my mom. It was a new house and she was having some work done. There were about a half dozen workers running around. It was time for me to go so I kissed her goodbye and went on my way. About one block from the house, I could hear a huge thump and blood curdling scream... it was mom. I ran back and threw the front door open - I yelled for her and she screamed for my help. It had been so bright outside that when I went back inside the house, I literally couldn't see anything and for the life of me, my eyes would not adjust. She kept yelling for me and I could hear the workers yelling at each other to take care of me, too. As I tried desperately to work my way through total blindness to find my mom, I started taking hits to the body with a bat. It wasn't long before one found my temple and I went down, helpless, drifting in and out of consciousness all the while listening to my mom scream for help.
Adorable until she eats something she's not supposed to eat and gets the shits.
We took our normal early evening walk yesterday and after she ate her dinner, I found her crying by the door. Never a good sign. We went out to our normal spot and she let loose - grunting - very confused. She's good for one of these episodes two or three times a year.
She made it until 330AM and then it was game on. I kept clothes next to the bed so I could spring up like a fireman and roll out, alarms blaring. I think we went three or four times over the next few hours. 500AM I had to get my wife up to help, I was exhausted. Good times. As I type - she's staring at me, looking to go again.
Needless to say, I didn't have much time for dreaming, though I did have a particularly terrifying one somewhere between the doggy trotts.
6/23 -
I was in a house with my mom. It was a new house and she was having some work done. There were about a half dozen workers running around. It was time for me to go so I kissed her goodbye and went on my way. About one block from the house, I could hear a huge thump and blood curdling scream... it was mom. I ran back and threw the front door open - I yelled for her and she screamed for my help. It had been so bright outside that when I went back inside the house, I literally couldn't see anything and for the life of me, my eyes would not adjust. She kept yelling for me and I could hear the workers yelling at each other to take care of me, too. As I tried desperately to work my way through total blindness to find my mom, I started taking hits to the body with a bat. It wasn't long before one found my temple and I went down, helpless, drifting in and out of consciousness all the while listening to my mom scream for help.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Day 6'ish
I made it through Friday night in Manhattan and Saturday night at a wedding in Mystic, CT with two packs of smokes. Not bad considering we were partying. I can already feel the Chantix manipulating my desire to smoke. The physical desire is starting to lift - which leaves me with the mechanical desires - the cues - that are hard to fight off.
It's day 6'ish because I missed a day and therefore pushed my quit date back. Thursday will be my last day of allowing myself to smoke and when I wake up Friday, I'm done. We have no major weekend plans which should help my cause.
One the more memorable dreams from the weekend:
June 20 -
I was in a van that was moving pretty fast. I had been kidnapped and was being beaten pretty badly by a few people. Turned out they were vampires. There was a male vampire on top of me that was doing his very best to bite into my neck. It was terrifying. All the while he's trying to bite me, there's a female vampire absolutely destroying his neck. His blood is all over my face and I'm trying to turn my head to keep it from getting in my eyes and mouth. I was able to free a hand and unlatch the sliding van door. I somehow managed to pull the male vampire over me and toss him out the door. He was torn apart by the back wheels. The female was all that was left - I'll censor here - but we ended up fooling around. WTF. I don't remember if she ever bit me.
June 21 -
I was working the front desk of a hotel that was completely over sold. The rooms were already full and there were literally thousands of people waiting in line to check in. Worst part was that I knew them all. Friends, clients, co-workers - I was the only one working in the hotel.
May not sound scary to you, but that's what I do for a living - hence it's status as a nightmare.
later -
G
It's day 6'ish because I missed a day and therefore pushed my quit date back. Thursday will be my last day of allowing myself to smoke and when I wake up Friday, I'm done. We have no major weekend plans which should help my cause.
One the more memorable dreams from the weekend:
June 20 -
I was in a van that was moving pretty fast. I had been kidnapped and was being beaten pretty badly by a few people. Turned out they were vampires. There was a male vampire on top of me that was doing his very best to bite into my neck. It was terrifying. All the while he's trying to bite me, there's a female vampire absolutely destroying his neck. His blood is all over my face and I'm trying to turn my head to keep it from getting in my eyes and mouth. I was able to free a hand and unlatch the sliding van door. I somehow managed to pull the male vampire over me and toss him out the door. He was torn apart by the back wheels. The female was all that was left - I'll censor here - but we ended up fooling around. WTF. I don't remember if she ever bit me.
June 21 -
I was working the front desk of a hotel that was completely over sold. The rooms were already full and there were literally thousands of people waiting in line to check in. Worst part was that I knew them all. Friends, clients, co-workers - I was the only one working in the hotel.
May not sound scary to you, but that's what I do for a living - hence it's status as a nightmare.
later -
G
Friday, June 19, 2009
And away we go
I was born in 1977, started smoking when I was around 18 - that would put me at 13 years of dealing with cigarettes. Wow. That's pretty bad when I think about it. It's not like I've been smoking 2 packs a day for 13 years, but I've certainly battled them. Recently, I gave in... again. Mark Twain put it best, "It's easy to quit smoking, I've done it hundreds of times." He's not kidding. I ask you one favor... if you've never smoked, don't give me a bunch of shit about how bad it is. I will cut you.
So yeah, the title - it's Day 3. I started taking Chantix, again. It's my second try on the drug. The first try was right before I turned 30. It worked - so well that I stopped taking the drug two months early! Then one night after a great dinner and an awesome bottle of Silver Oak, I caved. They are nasty little demonds but damn are they good. Fast forward to working on 32 years old. Turns out I have really high blood pressure (which I'm now medicated for) and it also turns out that I'm getting old and smoking is for losers.
If there was one memorable thing about my last run on Chantix - it was the month of the most random, screwed up, and vivid dreams one could ever imagine. I had dreams about shit I can't even tell my closest friends about. Last night, after two short days on the medication (at half the dose I'll be taking next week), the dreams fired up again. I've always been a vivid dreamer anyway - but this shit is like a 52 inch hi def plasma versus the TV I hooked my Commodore 64 up to. I'm going to do my best to capture the utter ridiculousness of these dreams in blog form for you to read. Some of it may be strange, but I’m going to try not to censor myself. I'll likely also bitch about quitting smoking and other noteworthy things that are happening in my world.
6/18 - 2 days on Chantix
I was on a destroyer type battle ship, but it was tiny, like 40 feet, so it made no sense. It was painted ghost white. We were closing in fast on this beach. The only way to get to the enemy was to beach the front of the ship. I had a giant handgun and everyone else had assault rifles and automatic weapons. I could barely lift the thing. We reached top speed and hit the beach - we all flew off and I remember landing on this behemoth of a gun. Fortunately, I braced the impact with my nuts. The rest of the people I was with were taking down the enemy left and right, it was wild. I couldn’t do anything because of this heavy ass handgun and the fact that I just took an epic nut shot. I dragged the weapon behind a utility box and found that it was me and one last enemy. We made eye contact - it was John Dillinger (the bank robber). So he's shooting at me and I'm trying to get this big ass gun up so I can fire back. I get it propped up, aim - and I see he's on his blackberry. What the hell is John Dillinger doing on this beach with his blackberry? I grab the giant trigger and squeeze. Blam-o. I hit him right in the blackberry. The blackberry ripped right through the side of his head just about to the middle of his nose. Half a brain hanging out and he's got a strange limp now. Not only is he still alive, he's pissed off - screaming about how his call dropped and it was really important. I'm floored. Paralyzed. Right then a giant brown bear came up behind me, picked up my giant gun, and finished Dillinger off. As I turned to thank the bear, he raised his paw and bitch slapped me so hard I went flying. When I asked him why the hell he did that, he said it was because I was being a bitch and that's what bitches get.
So yeah, the title - it's Day 3. I started taking Chantix, again. It's my second try on the drug. The first try was right before I turned 30. It worked - so well that I stopped taking the drug two months early! Then one night after a great dinner and an awesome bottle of Silver Oak, I caved. They are nasty little demonds but damn are they good. Fast forward to working on 32 years old. Turns out I have really high blood pressure (which I'm now medicated for) and it also turns out that I'm getting old and smoking is for losers.
If there was one memorable thing about my last run on Chantix - it was the month of the most random, screwed up, and vivid dreams one could ever imagine. I had dreams about shit I can't even tell my closest friends about. Last night, after two short days on the medication (at half the dose I'll be taking next week), the dreams fired up again. I've always been a vivid dreamer anyway - but this shit is like a 52 inch hi def plasma versus the TV I hooked my Commodore 64 up to. I'm going to do my best to capture the utter ridiculousness of these dreams in blog form for you to read. Some of it may be strange, but I’m going to try not to censor myself. I'll likely also bitch about quitting smoking and other noteworthy things that are happening in my world.
6/18 - 2 days on Chantix
I was on a destroyer type battle ship, but it was tiny, like 40 feet, so it made no sense. It was painted ghost white. We were closing in fast on this beach. The only way to get to the enemy was to beach the front of the ship. I had a giant handgun and everyone else had assault rifles and automatic weapons. I could barely lift the thing. We reached top speed and hit the beach - we all flew off and I remember landing on this behemoth of a gun. Fortunately, I braced the impact with my nuts. The rest of the people I was with were taking down the enemy left and right, it was wild. I couldn’t do anything because of this heavy ass handgun and the fact that I just took an epic nut shot. I dragged the weapon behind a utility box and found that it was me and one last enemy. We made eye contact - it was John Dillinger (the bank robber). So he's shooting at me and I'm trying to get this big ass gun up so I can fire back. I get it propped up, aim - and I see he's on his blackberry. What the hell is John Dillinger doing on this beach with his blackberry? I grab the giant trigger and squeeze. Blam-o. I hit him right in the blackberry. The blackberry ripped right through the side of his head just about to the middle of his nose. Half a brain hanging out and he's got a strange limp now. Not only is he still alive, he's pissed off - screaming about how his call dropped and it was really important. I'm floored. Paralyzed. Right then a giant brown bear came up behind me, picked up my giant gun, and finished Dillinger off. As I turned to thank the bear, he raised his paw and bitch slapped me so hard I went flying. When I asked him why the hell he did that, he said it was because I was being a bitch and that's what bitches get.
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