Still, a co-worker is calling me Omarosa, and I mightn't watch reality TV, but I know that's not good.

I don't know this co-worker of yours, but you'd be justified in kicking her in the head.

Allyson, I didn't notice the smoke (when you weren't smoking) until after I moved out. And when you were smoking ... well, you were just smoking. You weren't actually grinding ash out in my lungs or anything.

My mother smoked pretty heavily until I was a teenager -- constant cigarette smoke becomes invisible to me pretty quickly.

you'd be justified in kicking her in the head

Did Omarosa have a concussion or anything? I'm hoping that was the segue.

Heh, now these are cozies indeed:

[link]

Now I feel like ass. Is it really that bad? Like when I'm just sitting next to someone? Should I carry barf bags?

Allyson, I usually only notice smoke smell in a bar (not that often anymore) and at my sister's house--where there are like six smokers living there. But when my Dad sits next to me (he's a moderate smoker), I hardly notice at all. I think my mom Fabreezes his coats and stuff and he tends to smoke outside a lot.

If I'm in a place where smokers dwell, I don't notice the smell on me, my clothes or hair until I've left the general vicinity.

I like the smell of smoking (unless I sit with a couple of heavy smokers for, say, four hours). But what I really really hate is riding in a car in the winter with someone who's smoking and has a window cracked open. For some reason, the combination of smoke, ice-cold air and moving car just makes me feel ill.

I am one with febreeze, candles, and incense. Also, since I live in a single, I find that regularly cleaning the rug and washing my bedding is helpful to keeping the place from becoming a total ashtray. But I don't notice it much myself, because, you know, smoker.

Did Omarosa have a concussion or anything? I'm hoping that was the segue.

Oh yeah, kind of -- she was hit in the head with a tiny piece of plaster at a construction site, and claimed to have a concussion and didn't do any more work for the entire rest of the project. (Being a pathological liar who seemed physically fine except for all the whining, the chances of her actually having a concussion were slim.)

t /fountain of useless knowledge

There are two smokers in our office who take regular smoke breaks throughout the day. When they come back in, they smell really stong and I hate having to sit by them in a meeting, but the smell seems to dissapte(sp?) pretty quickly.

Still, a co-worker is calling me Omarosa.

I am happy to kill this person. Please to start calling her Johnny Fairplay.

I love Molly Ivins. I would be her, if she wasn't still doing it. I think anyone calling you that might be calling you a bitca ita. They must want to die young, too.