My misspent youth…

By | August 21, 2012

My friend S. said he tried smoking in his teens but “it didn’t stick.” I think most teens try smoking — or at least most of my friends did back in the day — and most don’t end up with a collection of lighters in a rainbow of colours.

It’s cool for a week or so, but they cough, feel dizzy and are disgusted by the taste. It just doesn’t stick.

But something very different happened to me when I smoked for the first time — I felt fantastic — alert and relaxed at the same time. My brain felt like it was singing. (There were other experiences like this as a teen, but I have no plans to blog about …..my first time behind the wheel.)

So there I was — a good (perhaps even a goody-two-shoes) student who worked on the yearbook and school paper — hanging out in the smoking area by the tech wing. (In fact, I made quite a few good friends there, but that’s neither here not there, except perhaps for the fact that I’m still pretty darn chatty and I ended up taking some shop classes just for fun. I can still rewire a lamp and I know what a carburetor does.)

Sure, if I could go back in time I’d not try that first (fantastic) cigarette. I would have also tried harder in math class and started my RRSP savings when I got my first job. But I did and I did not.

So yeah, it didn’t help that I ended up in the smoking capital of post-secondary education — journalism school. Hell, we could — and did pretty much non-stop — smoke in the student lounge right across the hall from the writing lab. It was a smelly little room full of angsty writers — and me, the ever chipper wanna-be Christiane Amanpour.

But lately I’ve been smoking a lot less than usual and I’m pretty pleased with myself.

I quit for about two years a while back and my brain didn’t explode.

I think it’s time to say goodbye to gal from the tech wing and the smoking lounge again. I’ll miss her. She was fun.

Maybe I’ll just promise to buy myself a ‘Cuda if I am successful — now that’ll be fun. Perhaps even more fun that a collection of lighters and 20 little friends in my pocket.

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