Halftime of the NCSU/Cincinnati game. We're ahead. Costner is playing well, thank God. Figured I'd kill time by blogging.

Well, I fucking did it... I quit smoking. 5 days in, anyway. I guess I don't really get to say I quit until it's been months or something, but I'm over the 3-day hump, and I'm not really thinking about them that much now. It was SO bad for the first few days, because I seriously craved one about every 3 minutes.

The words of Bill Hicks took on new wisdom this week:
"It is hard to quit smoking. Every one of them looks pretty good to me right now. Every cigarette looks like it was made by God, rolled by Jesus and lightly moistened shut with Claudia Schiffer's pussy lips right now."

Kinda crude, but also true. I actually READ the word "cigarettes" in a book I was reading, and it made me salivate and taste tobacco smoke. I tried not to go out at all, but I had to go up to a Rite-Aid at one point, and I smelled someone's burning cig ... I almost mugged them for it.

See, this is why I don't do coke or anything like that. 'Cause I know what it feels like to be hooked on something. And yo... it sucks.

You never get over an addiction, either. I smoked for a few years, stopped for two, and then earlier this year picked them up again. Not only did my addiction re-activate as soon as I had smoked just one, it was stronger and harder to satisfy than ever before. I had smoked a half a pack a day in those earlier years, this semester I've been smoking a pack a day plus.

"Gee, Heath, why don't you blog some more about your cigarette addiction? We are all fascinated!" Thank you, I will. I did some calculations and realized that at 4.50 a pack, a 30 day month was costing me $135 if I didn't go over a whole pack (as I often did) and fucking 1,642.50 a year. My first thought upon discovering this was: holy shit, I could have had an XBox360, or a girlfriend! OR BOTH! Perish the thought.

I feel like I'm talking about cigarettes way too much, and it's making me salivate a little bit, so I should move on. But I can't really talk about what I really want to talk about. So instead I'll bitch about something else.

It's driving me crazy to be up at my dad's house. I love the guy, a lot, but in some ways we just aren't compatible. I get on his nerves, and he gets on my nerves. There doesn't seem to be a lot of middle ground there. There are a few activities we can enjoy together, but not a whole lot. I feel like while I'm up here, I do most of the same shit I do in Raleigh -- sit on the couch, mess around on the Internet, play Wii, procrastinate on my writing, and read. I'd much rather be doing this in Raleigh right now, to be perfectly honest. I guess coming up here helped me quit smoking, but now... I'm like... another week of this? REALLY? Damn.

According to Fox Sports, there's nothing better than free food and candy during Christmas. That reminds me that I've been eating for free up here at my dad's, as well as eating a lot of candy. That's definitely a bonus. BUT DUDES. I have eaten more in the last five days than I probably ate in the two weeks prior. No exaggeration. I always heard you gained weight when you quit smoking, but damn. Something in my body is ballin out of control right now. I've tried to counteract the appetite by doing sets of crunches and pushups every day, which I havent done in like a year. I used to be pretty good about that, but then I just kinda let everything go to shit.

Wow this is a fascinating blog, so much so it would really be a disservice to my readership to end it here. I can picture everyone reading this rapt with attention, just going, "WHAT NEXT??" But I'm afraid I must break all of your hearts and end it here. Sorry.
(Sarcasm, btw.)

Holla.