smonster, I have a friend who made her own flavored vapors, I think she liked them better than some of the ones she could get and I think they were cheaper.

I have one of those. Not a substitute, definitely. But I can see how it could help ward off the panic or the bad ass cravings if you were quitting.

I know quitting is a bitch, smonster, but good for you for quitting. My cousin quit smoking about 20 years ago, but he had easily been smoking for 20 years before he quit. He says he had cravings, but he says he can't remember the last time he wanted a smoke.

Steph, that's HUGE news. Much strength to you and your family.

Electronic cigarettes

I have idly considered getting a clove-flavored one of them, because there are times when I CRAVE a clove cigarette. Like, for all of last year.

Teppy, best of luck to your brother. I'm glad to hear he decided to get help.

Sean, you're one of the good guys. Don't let anybody beat you up, even your own doubt.

Steph, that's awesome news about and for your brother. May rehab be relatively easy and recovery be good for him.

JZ, I'm sorry. I'm looking at more than a couple of decades as a smoker, and possible land mines ahead. We live in hope, though.

smonster, H quit about fifteen years before I did, and did it cold turkey and never looked back. He didn't even complain about my smoking in the house for a long time, until he got flu one winter and the smoke and the smell made him sicker. So I smoked outside for years more.

I have psoriasis, and at that time, it was really, really bad. I'd read of a woman who stopped smoking and her skin symptoms cleared up. So when I had bronchial flu that winter, I went to bed for a week and didn't smoke again when I got up. My skin cleared up--a miracle! I did not change my eating habits at all, in fact, I scaled back on what and when I ate, and still, my metabolism plummeted and I gained 60 pounds in three months. Still didn't smoke, though I snuck a drag off a friend's cigarette now and then. No more, though. I know if I smoked a whole cigaratte I'd be gone again. An emergency pack in the house? Would last two days.

I hate smoke in an enclosed space. I hate smelling it on my neighbor, and I can't stand more than a few minutes in her house, I feel like I'm choking.

But when I'm stuck for the next line, I hate that I can't jump up, go outside, light up and pace up and down--usually within two or three drags, I'd have the words and be fired up and back on track. No more. Now I go outside, breathe deep, swing my arms, run in place. And sometimes it helps. It's not the same, though.

And when I watch an old b/w movie with the heroine at a cafe, cup of coffee before her and smoke curling romantically around her, I want a cigarette. Every once in a while I'll catch a whiff of fresh-lit cigarette and a surge of wannit! comes over me. I watch a James Dean movie and the cigarette in the corner of his mouth while he does things, so damned sexy.

H looks at me like I've lost my mind when I occasionally voice the "I could really use a drag off a cigarette right now." He never has had that urge. But I do. I still do.

But I don't do anything about it. I like being able to walk into places and not worry about carrying smokes and lighter in my hands or a pocket. I like walking into a unfamiliar place, and not automatically scoping out the exits (though I still do this, nearly ten years post-quitting) for a quick dodge and smoke. I like not having to stand out in the rain looking like a loser to get my fix. But I still want a cigarette, now and then.

Aw, Bev. I think my mom was something of the same kind of smoker - she hasn't had a physical craving in almost twenty years, but she loved having a grown-up prop, having something to do with her hands when she was thinking or waiting or choosing just the right word. She loved the ritual of it more than anything else, and, as for you, for her it was very deeply tied to the act of writing.

I've always thought this exchange hit the nail on the head, as far as the ritual of smoking goes:

Frasier: What is so wonderful about smoking?
Bebe: Everything! I like the way a fresh firm pack feels in my hand. I like peeling away that little piece of cellophane and seeing it twinkle in the light. I like coaxing that first sweet cylinder out of its hiding place and bringing it slowly up to my lips. Striking a match, watching it burst into a perfect little flame and knowing that soon that flame will be inside me! [Begins displaying innuendo]
Bebe: I love the first puff, pulling it into my lungs... little fingers of smoking filling me, caressing me, feeling that warmth penetrate deeper and deeper until I think I'm going to burst!
[Frasier raises his eyebrow]
Bebe: Then 'woosh!'... watching it flow out of me in a lovely sinuous cloud, no two ever quite the same!
Daphne: [Visibly aroused, as are the others] More potatoes, anyone?

That's about it. And yet, eventually, other rituals took over (coffee is her thing, but I believe there are some here present who find the ritual of a well-crafted pot of tea very pleasurable), and the words started coming even faster than before (er, the coffee may have helped a bit with that) and her hair and clothes didn't have that bitey smell anymore.

I believe there are some here present who find the ritual of a well-crafted pot of tea very pleasurable

I have no ritual anymore, and I FUCKIN' LOVE IT.

Sorry. I know it's an overpriced piece of frippery, but I want to sexually gratify my teamaker. I already liked tea. Now I want a committed relationship with it.