Tuesday, January 27, 2004

it's sooo cold today. my car is buried somewhere in the snow. my dad gave me a ride to school today. fuckin' early, too - i had an 8am bio lab. since my next class isn't until 3:30, i'm stuck in the library for the majority of my day. at least it's warm in here. after lab i snagged some breakfast with kathy. i made my own strawberry belgian waffle and spilled batter all over the counter. but mmm, it was so delicious. i walked down the huge hill next to school to the cuming st. liquor store for some smokes. it was cold, but i needed the exercise. it's not that bad unless the wind is biting at your face. i figured i'd get some homework done while i have the free time. blah, it sucks.

i'm supposed to write a 1200-word essay on any topic i choose, and being that it's an autobiography class, i chose to do a personal essay. it's really just a huge blog entry if you think about it. well, more like a blog entry from someone else's site, like madpony or something. i digress too often to be an essayist. maybe i could do it if i worked on it for a couple days. so the clincher is, what the hell do i write about? i started out by writing an essay about a recently popular issue: my love life. but then i remembered that i have to make four copies for peer editing, and if they don't read my blog already, i don't want to go spewing out my issues to them. there's so much backstory, no one would understand anyway.

so what do i write? i thought about my issues with the fashion industry, but i don't think i could come up with 1200 words. well you know, maybe i could, but i don't really feel like getting into it. i could write about my problems with bathrooms and toilets and the like, but i don't want to elevate my status from "normal student" to "freak." Erotica would be fun, hell it was even an option on the "idea sheet" the teacher handed out. but i think i'll avoid that one for the same aforementioned reason. i suppose i could write out a long rant about customer service and why it sucks, but it's been done. my friend aaron used to have an entire site devoted to that very topic. so what do i write about?? this used to be so easy for me. i think i wrote my best journal entries when i first started blogging. now it's just a prosified (made-up word) list about how my day went. most of the time. think, think, think, THINK.

blah blah blah. i was told in creative writing class that if you're blocked, to write about that block. if you close your eyes and see a big black hole in the back of your mind, write about it. so i'm writing writing writing, thinking thinking thinking. i wanna write about raymi for some reason. she's a most interesting character, and i often wonder if she acts the same way in real life as she does on her blog. she's got an amusing vernacular, like "teknoise drumnbasswhatchoomacallit." she's fucked up in the head, but i can't seem to get enough. i guess it;s kind of the same way for me. there are people who read my blog almost religiously. i was told today that my personal problems were more interesting than other people's. i don't know if that constitutes as a compliment or what, but it's nice to know people pay attention. and i don't understand why, but even though my life seems so messed up, people still come and ask me for advice. it's as if they think i'm some sort of guru. i think: if i'm messed up, what makes you think i can help you? i think it's my understanding nature that draws them in. there are a few people who always ask me questions concerning sexuality because i'm so open about it, and i don't make them feel embarassed for not knowing something. i've always said, "you'll never learn if you don't ask." and i was in the same boat once. there was a time when i had not a clue about human sexuality. but i got over my inhibitions and looked for answers to my questions. seth said that's one of the reasons why he loves me. i'm not shy and i don't prevent myself from learning more because of possible embarassment. i like when people tell me why they love me. it saves me the trouble of fishing for compliments - a natural habit posessed by all women. hmm, maybe i should write about the difference between women and men. but again, it's been done, and i don't think i have enough knowledge on the subject. so what do i write about? someone give me a clue.

Lisa | 11:52 AM

okay, so here's my first rough draft (827 words):

Sentimental Smoking
By Lisa Bloomingdale

There's a popular campaign contaminating television and radio these days. Everywhere I look, I see the ads and the posters. Come to think of it, I'm a little offended. Even people on the street will pass by and spread this evil sentiment.
"You know, you shouldn't smoke. You're killing me along with yourself."
It's always the non-smokers who give us smokers such a hard time. But it's not really their fault. They're just ignorant. They don't know what it is to experience that sweet sensation of polluting your lungs. They don't understand the lovely, musky aroma that clings to you wherever you go.
The smell is a comfort to me. It reminds me of childhood. Both of my parents smoked for as long as I can remember. They reeked of cigarettes when I hugged them. Kids at school used to make fun of me because my coat was always so musky. But I was used to the smell and didn't even notice it. They just didn't understand that it was the scent of a mother's love. Whenever I smell it now, I think back to the good old days.
Cigarettes really are a nice commodity. They're very relaxing when you have a term paper due, or you're stressed out about next week's presentation. I started smoking my first week of college, right around the time my first essay was due. My friends were always going outside for a cig, and I was feeling left out. They had their own table and everything! It was labeled "Smoker's Table" in magic marker, and everyone had signed their names.
I so longed to be part of their little club that I went down to the local gas station and bought my first pack of cigarettes. And I went all out, too. I bought one of Camel's new Exotic Blends: Mandarin Mint to be exact. They were expensive, but well worth it. I've switched to the cheaper, more trendy Marlboro Blend No. 27's since then. Money often becomes an issue once you've achieved the status of "addict."
Sitting at the coveted smoker's table, I became quite popular. Everyone loved the fancy tins my overpriced cancer sticks came in. I even signed the table - Lisa B. '03. It reminded me of grade school when I always had the coolest lunches, because my snack foods outranked those of everyone else. So you see, smoking it not so bad - it makes you popular!
The slow inhalation of smoke into one's lungs is breathtaking, literally. It feels so nice when that minty goodness slides its way down your throat and comes back out in the shape of little rings. Everyone has a different method of blowing smoke rings. My mom used to pop her jaw; my friend Sean uses his tongue. I look like a fish on a kissing rampage.
I'd have to say my favorite part of the day is the morning. That first cigarette is the absolute greatest. When you haven't smoked for hours because you were off dreaming in a state of deep slumber, it's like the breakfast of champions. I drink some coffee, take that first drag, and I'm in heaven. My legs go numb all the way down to my toes, and I just want to fall back into bed.
I'd say the most ideal time to smoke is in the morning, after a big meal, while drinking, after a boring lecture, when you're driving, when you're walking, on a sunny day, or on a day that ends in -y.
Actually, I think I've become too addicted. I drive along the interstate listening to some tunes; and I feel like there is something missing. So I toke up, blast the radio, and all is good. However, I get sad when I see that fiery cherry nearing the filter, and I think about how bad I'll feel when it's all over. So I flick my butt out of the window and light up another. This is referred to as chain smoking. It really is fun, I promise. Just try it sometime.
People are always talking about quitting. They let those anti-smoking campaigns poison their minds and trick them into thinking that smoking is bad. I feel sorry for them. They are simply looking to subject themselves to torture. Some of them blame it on the money. But if you think about it, all of life's pleasures come with a price: movies, concerts, amusement parks, nice cars, big houses... You get my point.
So why quit smoking? "It's killing you," they say. But so is everything else in the world, if you think about it. Pollution, corruption, violence, the whole nine yards. I really like that Cake lyric: "As soon as you're born you start dying, so you might as well have a good time." There is a comedian named Bill Hicks who does a whole bit about why smoking is good, and those who don't like it are just misguided.
So I propose we start a new campaign. It's time we started looking at the world from an optimistic point of view. Sure we're all going to die before we want to, but how can we really, I mean truly, enjoy life if we're not smoking it away one puff at a time?

Lisa | 1:21 AM

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