Not Punking Out

Ok, for those of you who read Keene's blog, he has slandered me. (Expect a call from my lawyer B! ;-) ) I have not punked out. My plan is the same as yesterday. I went out last night and bought a couple of boxes of nicorette. I have a supply of mints, bubble gum, pretzel rods, and straws. Yes, straws. They work for the oral fixation (stop snickering) and I can hold them in my fingers like a cigarette. I cut them to cigarette size. I've been preparing myself mentally. And I don't smoke as much either. I still have a few cigarettes left in the pack I bought yesterday morning at 8:30. It's now almost noon. That's good for me. The next pack I buy I'm going to try not to smoke more than 10 a day. And so on until D day. I know me. I can't just stop. I need to work at it. But as of July 22, I will not smoke at all....not even one. It's important to me to succeed this time. I've beaten other addictions, I can beat this one too.

That being said...time to move on to the rant. This one's about cops. I'm not cop bashing, I'm friends with quite a few. But what I want to know is, how come they are never around when someone is cutting me off, or running me off the road, or shoots past me at 100 mph. But they're always around when I'm keeping with traffic, but also going a little too fast.

I'm on my way home from the Pit yesterday. I just pull out of a very sharp turn that puts me onto 287. I start on down the highway. Not too far ahead of me I see the glimmer of a cop in the usual trap. I check my speed, I'm doing a little under 70, I tap my breaks. By the time I pass him, I'm down to just over 60. Then, I see a cop speeding in my lane behind me. He wasn't there before, and he was far back when he started his pursuit. I figured he was on a call so I moved over. He moved over with me and flipped on his light. Fuck.

He asks me how fast I thought I was going. I told him I wasn't sure, because when he put his lights on I was doing a little over 60. He said, you do know this is a 55 zone. I said that I had forgotten that it didn't turn into 65 until up a little further. He asked why I had no idea how fast I was going "back there." I said I was just keeping with traffic and wasn't paying attention, I apologized. He told me I was doing 75. Then he went back to his car and took 15 minutes to write my ticket. The ticket said 80 in a 55. When did it jump to 80? And where was he when he clocked me at 75? But I kept smiling and calling him sir. He said I could go to court and see if I could get it lowered. I thanked him and went on my way.

Upon closer inspection of the ticket, he had checked off that he had paced me. WHAT? By the time he was anywhere near me to pace me I was doin a little over 60. Don't they have to follow behind you a bit to pace you? This guy came out of nowhere. Whatever. It's just my luck. I finally get my points down to zero and now I get a ticket for going 25 miles over the limit, even though he originally told me I was going 75. He was an old cop. I think he may be going senile. I don't want a four pointer, at least that's what I think it is. So I have to go to court. I've been to the Mahwah court before. I got out of a four pointer scot free with the help of a lawyer (at that time, 4 points would have caused me to lose my license). This was almost 3 years ago. I hope they don't remember me.

Funnier, Fran has a court date there at the end of the month. He was driving a rental van for work on Rt. 17. He was in the left lane. A cop pulled him over and said trucks weren't allowed in the left lane. He explained that he was only passing, and that he had a van, not a truck. The cop ignored him and gave him the ticket. It's a 4 pointer. Now he has to fight it in court. They are so gonna know the name Fatras. Figures, I get pulled over weeks before I kiss this commute goodbye.

I wouldn't call myself an unlucky person. I have plenty of luck. It's just all bad.

Preparing For Hell Week

Ok, this post may seem odd considering my last post. But let me start by saying, I know cigarettes will kill me. I know it's a dirty habit and I shouldn't do it. That, however, does not change my opinion of the ban in New York. I still feel that the government is stepping on the toes of citizens. I still feel some rights are being squashed in favor of others. That being said...

I'm quitting. I know, go ahead, let your jaws hit the floor. I've been going through some rough times the past couple of months, and I didn't post about it. Now I feel that I can. Without getting too graphic, I was (and am) experiencing problems with my female plumbing. My monthly friend was acting very strangely. My doctor gave me a laundry list of possible reasons, one of which being the Big C. Of course, she felt that that was unlikely, but wanted to give me as much information as possible. Yesterday I went for my tests. She feels that it's nothing more than my body adjusting to my switch in bith control methods. But I'll have to wait for the test results to be completely sure. I made a deal with God the night before my appointment. I told him to get me through this without a life threatening illness and still able to have more children, and I'd never smoke again.

So here I am. It was pretty funny, I smoked the last cigarette in my pack just before getting to my doctor. I said it would be my last. My night went ok. My dad gave me a piece of his nicotine gum and told me to use it if I needed it. I got advice from Brian, who is on day 4 of his own hell week. I thought I could do it, no problem. Hell, I didn't even pop the gum last night. (Though I did do a shot of Nyquil, got to sleep fine. Thanks B!) :) This morning I pulled into the gas station. Told the guy to fill it up. Sat there, tapping my foot. Salivating over the thought of a cigarette. And I caved. I told him to throw in a pack of butts. I've had 3 today. Told myself I would give the rest of the pack to Fran when I got home. He'll never quit. He'll smoke 'em.

Then I remembered a commercial I had heard on the radio a few times. For NJ Quit Net (www.njquitnet.com). So I checked out the site. I joined. Not that I think this site alone will get me to kick the habit, but I can tell it will be helpful. Considering how much time I spend online, I have plenty of people who are going through it with me to talk to. Lots of tips on the site. And even a counter that will tell me how many cigarettes I *haven't* smoked, how much money I've saved, and how many days I've added on to my life. I learned that just saying you're going to quit and stopping isn't exactly the way to go. I learned that the best way for me to be successful is to use a medication to help me stop. I'm going to use the gum, despite the fact that my dad has been addicted to it for 6 months now. So my official quit day is June 22nd. 6 days away. I'm going to mentally prepare myself in the meantime, and make sure I stock up on the gum, as well as plenty of regular gum and other things to chew on.

I have to say that Brian has been an inspiration to me. Keep it up hun! I'm with ya! We'll beat this nicotine demon!

So now, this won't just be a place to read the rants of a mentally imbalanced writer, it'll be the place to read rants by a mentally imbalanced writer who is also nicking. :) Should be an interesting ride.

Smokers vs. Non-Smokers

There's been a lot of debate about the whole smoking ban in NYC lately. But I didn't feel the need to add my two cents until today. I had a smoke on the way back from lunch. As I walked down the hall to my office afterwards, a particularly annoying busy body I work with made a loud SNIFF and said, "SOMEBODY has been SMOKING!"

I popped my head into her office and said, "Yup, and I enjoyed every drag." I just got a roll of the eyes.

So...this (plus the fact that I'm utterly bored at work) prompted me to post about this sensitive subject. I live in Jersey. So far we're still allowed to smoke in bars and clubs. More and more restaurants are becoming non-smoking, but that's by their decision. There are still plenty of places to go to eat that have smoking sections. And my favorite place to go for lunch by the Pit is this Irish pub, Kinchley's, where they have a big sign hung up that says, "This is a smoking restaurant. There is no non-smoking section, which is entitled by law." I love that sign. This place kicks ass, and makes a great bar pie.

But there is legislation being tossed around that will turn Jersey into a NYC. No smoking ANYWHERE. What the fuck? Were we suddenly taken over by natzis? I've only been in the city a couple of times since the ban. And lucky me, the weather was terrible each time, forcing me to suck on my cancer sticks in the rain. Needless to say, I've been clubbing and bar hopping in Jersey since.

What I want to know is, what the fuck gives the government the right to tell us what we can and can't do to our own bodies? Oh, I've heard the whole second hand smoke argument. You know what I say to that? Go fuck yourself. You don't want to smell it, breathe it, whatever? Don't go near it. First off, smoking and drinking go together like chocolate and milk. You poll every person in a bar and I'll bet more than 75% are smokers or don't care if people smoke around them. If I bar wants to be non-smoking, that's fine. If a resraurant wants to be non-smoking, fine. But forcing businesses to take a hit like this is wrong. And I thought they wanted to boost NYC's economy. I know many New Yorkers who now come to Jersey to hang out, drink, and spend their money.

I would never blow smoke in the face of someone who didn't want to breathe it. So why am I forced to step outside for these fucks? They can go to a non-smoking section or non-smoking establishment. Since when did their rights become more important than ours? Cigarettes are legal right? So we have the right to smoke them. We're already getting raped with these new taxes that go up every year. Shit, I'm thinking about buying my butts online from other countries and having them delivered. I'd rather go a day without eating than go without my cigarettes. Sick? Maybe. Any of your business? No. Let me smoke, get lung cancer, and die. What's it to anyone else?

A friend of mine that was debating this subject on an email group I belong to had a very good point. If you're going to ban cigarettes, why not alcohol. That probably kills as many or even more people than smoke. Where does it end? Sure, right now they're picking on smokers' rights, so you non-smokers feel safe. What about when they start coming after you? We live in the United States of Fucking America people...since when is trampling on people's rights what we're about?

Smoking is a choice. Yes. Is it an addictive habit? Yes. But it should be up to the smoker whether or not he/she wants to quit, not the government. If I can choose to sit in the non-smoking section of a restaurant because I don't want my daughter breathing smoke, and take my smoke breaks outside during dinner, a non-smoker can choose to sit far away from the smoking section and be perfectly safe. There is no need to isolate us and treat us like we're shit. We pay our taxes just like everyone else. We spend our own money on a perfectly legal product. This ban makes no fucking sense.

And just so you tree-hugging, non-smoking, fascist assholes know...I do want to quit smoking. It's a process that takes time, effort, and a lot of patience. I will quit when I'm ready...not when the government tells me I should. And if I die of lung cancer, it's no one's fault but my own. And it's none of anyone else's business. So you can all go to hell.

Now I need a smoke.

Better Late Than Never

Ok, so you guys know how busy I've been lately, right? Well, it seems that I've been so crazed that I forgot to tell you all about KeeneCon III. I apologize. Luckily, one of my more psychotic readers reminded me of this today, and I promised this individual that I would post about it tonight. So, since I am afraid of being stabbed by a stalker, I am now going to give my official Con report. :) This one is dedicated to you...stabby...you know who you are. "Nothing beats the hobo life...stabbing people with my hobo knife!" ~The Simpsons

Ok...so we (being my hubby Fran, Markus, and myself) get in to Pennsyltucky at about 6:30 PM on the 4th of July. The ride was pleasant and Fran and I didn't have any screaming matches like we usually do on road trips. I have to thank Markus for that one. He has this calming effect on us. :) Anyhoo, we freshen up at the hotel and head to Journey's End (aka Keene's abode) about 7. I get to meet little DB (gives you looks just like his father...they have their hands full) who is wearing a Jets t-shirt already. He is definitely one of the cutest babies I have ever seen. We make some small talk, then head to a diner. Keene and Coop harass the waitress for awhile, but she was a good sport. Even when I offered her a 60% tip, she still wouldn't smack Keene and Coop with the ketchup bottle. Couldn't hurt to try.

We ended up seeing fireworks not far from where Keene lives. They were very long, and much nicer than the ones around here. Of course that little girl behind us that sounded so cute when she screamed "I love them" and "Yay!" every time a new one exploded did lose her cuteness after an hour of the screeching. And Brian and I found Wendy the Retard's long lost sister. But we had a great time. It was around midnight by the time we got back to Keene's. That's when the drinking began.

So the three of us, Keene, and Joe started plowing them back as Coop watched with a grin and the lovely ladies, Cassie and Deb, hung out with DB in the other room. I was drinking pussy wine, Arbor Mist. But even pussy wine gets you drunk after drinking half the bottle. I'm not sure what went on that night, I'm just sure I was ripped off my ass. I do remember Fran and Keene telling me I wasn't allowed to have anymore...and Coop piping in in the backgound, "just get her another glass!" I think he was curious how many licks it would take till I completely lost my center of gravity.

We trudged back to the hotel around 2ish. Fran has this habbit of turning on the TV while he falls asleep. I guess he needs the background noise. It just destracts me. He put on ESPN because he knows I'm never interested in anything that they put on. Only that night it was the International Spelling Bee Championship. Yes, I watched the whole damn thing until past 3 in the morning. I was pissed that 9 year olds were spelling words I had never even heard of. It was an interesting experience.

Flash forward to 10:00 am, my hotel phone rings. I answer. It's Brian.

"Hey, you still sleeping?"

"Yes Brian."

"Well everyone's here. We're all waiting for you!"

"What?"

"Yeah, people arrived early, hurry up and get over here!"

At this point I sit up and start fumbling around for my cigarettes, trying to wake myself up. "Uh...ok," I manage say.

"Nah, I'm just fucking with you. It's just me and Joe."

Mental note...destroy Brian. Now I'm up. So I get Fran up and call Markus's room. He sounds like I feel. We get our act together, go get more liquor, and head to Keene's. I immediately start back in with the Arbor Mist. Shit, I still hadn't completely sobered up from the night before. I figure, it did well the night before...if it ain't broke, don't fix it. People start arriving.

I get to see some friends I hadn't seen in awhile: Matt, Deena, Roger, Sheri, Warner, Lee, Jacob, Paul ... and meet some new ones: Steve Lucak & family, Val and Diana, the brothers Lancaster, and lots more. I had a blast with little Lexi Lucak...we played the Hulk and Spiderman. She's one tough super hero. :)

The alcohol continued to flow and the BBQ was excellent. Brian is a master griller, I have to give him props for that. Most of the day we all just BSed and kept giving Roger more and more alcohol.

Warning: Never enlist the help of teenage boys to attempt to duct tape Coop to a chair. They turn on you! Then your shoes end up being duct taped together and held hostage and when you least expect it, you find yourself wrapped in duct tape. Side note: shoes have since been returned, unharmed.

Around 11ish we started to do some readings. That was a lot of fun. My name turned up in two stories and my story included both Steve's name, as well as Coop's middle name...both completely unintentionally. I wrote that story long before I knew Coop's middle name, and I had just met Steve that night. Funny how these things work out. I loved all the stories, but Brian's new short and the chapter from Steve's book "Oogie Boogie Central" really had me laughing. They were excellent! But perhaps the highlight of the evening was hearing Coop read "Turning Leaves." I had never heard him read before and I was told it was a rare occurrence. But that has always been one of my favorite Coop stories, so I really enjoyed hearing it live.

The night began to wind down and many people left. There were a handful of us left when Coop began preaching about POD publishing. When Uncle Coop speaks, it's funny how everyone silently listens. (and the insults flying between him and Keene definitely add to the fun) We headed out about 4 am and crashed hard. But we were up and out by 11 am. Back to Keene's we went, where we met up with Matt and Deena. Keene had been cleaning since early that morning, so he declined to come to the traditional Denny's breakfast. So we headed out to Denny's, managed to get there despite bad directions from Keene, and stuffed ourselves silly. I won Fran a Peter Chris (am I spelling that right?) Kiss doll from the claw machine. Then we made our way back to Jersey.

A fantastic, drunken, exhausting weekend. I took Monday off to recoup. My end of summer bash is coming up in August. I gotta one up Keene. It isn't going to be easy.

So there you have it. My official KeeneCon III report. :)
* Names and places have not been changed in order to laugh at the innocent.

Blue Monday

No, I'm not really blue, but there is something about Mondays that automatically puts e in a less-than-cheerful mood. I do have a few things that I'm down about. Like the fact that I'm missing Necon this year. We just couldn't afford it. $500 for two people...we're already in some major debt. Which leads me to my main source of melancholy.

Lack of funds. It sucks. Fran and I together make a pretty decent buck. We haven't started paying for the car yet (that's in February) and we haven't made any major purchases in the last few months. Yet somehow we have found ourselves in a shitheap of dept. For example, I'm just about caught up on bills that I hadn't paid in a few months. Not too soon either, since my oil company is threatening to shut off my heat. Which, when you think about it, doesn't matter much in the summer, but I do like my warm baths. My cell phone is probably about to be turned off, but I can pay for that on Friday (my next pay day). I've gotten the creditors down to only 2 companies that call on a daily basis trying to get ahold of me. "I'm sorry, Meghan's out for the evening, you just missed her. I'm her sister. Yes I'll take your number." I'm hoping that the bills situation will be taken care of this coming weekend.

However, then there is the issue of rent. There is an upside and a downside to renting from your parents. On the upside, if you don't have rent on the first of the month, it's no big deal. So rent is usually what takes a back seat. It's now July 14th. I still owe my parents half of last month's rent and all of this month's rent. And August is fast approaching. My parents aren't well-off. They do need the money, and I feel bad owing them. But a phone and electricity are just necessities that have to come first. And it sucks.

Maybe we wouldn't be in this position if we didn't insist on spending money we know we don't have to go out. Like 4th of July weekend. We spent over $200 on the hotel alone. But there was no way in hell I was going to miss a Keene party! (And I'm definitely glad I went!) But it did set us further back in the hole. This past Saturday night we celebrated my friend's birthday at a bar. We didn't have the money to plow back a lot of drinks, but we did anyway. Hell, I needed to have a good time!

So I can admit that when it comes to cash, I can be my own worst enemy. But I'm not ready to live in a house with no cable, no cell phone, no Internet, sitting at home night after night and not going out, ever. That's how it would have to be if I didn't want to constantly struggle. I dunno, I guess some things are worth struggling for sometimes. I just hope that I'm not sticking us further into a hole by freelancing. But I already have a couple of side jobs lined up, stuff I can do from home and other part-time stuff to make some quick cash.

I don't want to turn around a few months from now and think that quitting the Pit was a mistake. Sometimes you have to take a chance, especially when sanity is on the line. I can tell you this, I have been overflowing with story ideas since the Pit's huge boulder has been lifted off my back. Now I just need the time to write them. But August 2nd is coming. A whole new world awaits me. I just hope I'm prepared.