GareK's Garret

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Day 589

Almost football season. I love football. I hate that I can't play anymore. 51 year old women are not supposed to play football (tag, flag or otherwise) but I'd do it anyway if I were in better condition.

I'm somewhat depressed of late. Thankfully, it hasn't led to my feeling tempted to smoke. That isn't to say I don't have cravings. I do, at times. But they are neither strong enough to command my attention for long nor bothersome enough to think I'm in danger of losing my Quit.

I just can't figure out why, when a person tries so hard not to complain or be a "squeaky wheel", why it's that person that gets shunted aside. Why do you have to be a complainer to get results? Or a nag. I don't want to be either, but I guess that's what it takes.

Most people don't pay any attention to somebody else's concerns. If it doesn't affect a guy's daily life, he's just not...

...going to worry much about something he doesn't have to think about.

I'm not doing well working from home. I have lost all confidence in myself and am having a terribly difficult time getting a job to get myself back out and active with people again. When I am out with people I begin to fear they are merely tolerating me. I'm beginning to feel as though I'm caged, and yet only in my cage am I safe. If I don't get a job soon I am afraid that I will completely disappear.

My BL wants me to keep working from home.

Day 439

I'm sitting here sipping coffee and trying to calm myself. Outwardly I don't believe I appear nervous, but inside I'm shaking like a leaf. I've been trying for a long time to find the perfect job and start earning a more stable income to help Ken, and have gotten close a number of times. Close, but no cigar.

HAHA! I just realized how stupid a phrase that is.

But it fits in perfectly, really, with how I'm feeling right now. The last position I began interviewing for, I made it to the 3rd round, which was the last one before they made their choice. It was a good job - $80K a year - and I had such high hopes. I don't apply for a job unless I'm at least 80% certain that I can be as big a blessing to them as they can be to me. I'd thought that one was "the one".

The job I'm interviewing for today is probably not going to pay as well. And it isn't going to promote me any further into IT or management in the future. It may be the wrong choice for somebody who has the thought of applying elsewhere in the future.

I've got all that swirling around in my head, but underlying it all is the absolute joy that I don't have smoking to contend with right now. The smell, the embarrassment of meeting somebody for the first time and knowing that they think you're making poor choices, and that might be repeated in your job performance... all that baggagge is gone from me.

So I'm just gonna sit and sip my coffee and "tink happy tawts" and anticipate getting to know this new company and see if we're right for each other. Wish me well!

Day 423

I caught wind of Camel's new strategy to kill more women and I tell you truthfully, it stinks to high heaven. The New York Times editorial entitled Don't Fall for Hot Pink Camels states that...

"this new attempt to woo women smokers can only be viewed as another cynical blow to public health."

I couldn't agree more.

When is it going to happen that somebody makes the Big Tobacco industry take responsibility for killing people intentionally? If you read my posts as a guest blogger on CiggyFree's blog site, you're aware that I'm very much taking responsibility for the fact that my children grew up to be smokers... and that I'm doing something to at least try to reverse the damage that I did without intending to...

But Big Tobacco knows exactly what they are doing, and what the consequences of their actions will be - and yet they continue to take these actions anyway. How can these people sleep at night? More to the point, with the testimony of people like Jeffrey Wigand, who has first-hand knowledge of the intent of the highest level executives in Big Tobacco companies, how can our laws continue to protect these dealers of death?

Yes, I take full responsibility for the fact that I ever put a stupid, stinking, nasty, death-dripping sickarette in my mouth in the first place. I did that, and I accept the fact that it was my choice to have done so. Now let BT take responsibility for making people believe that their products were desireable, safe and non-addictive. And let them stand before just men and women everywhere who have lost loved ones to lung cancer and heart disease brought on by smoking.

Let them explain to these people whose lives have been devastated, why it's okay to make sickarettes more addictive. Let them explain how it isn't their fault, just because they spent billions of dollers finding new ways to make their products' nicotine levels increase upon combustion, make the toxins cross the blood/brain barrier more quickly and make the addictive processes hit the pleasure centers harder... let them tell us why this is okay.

Perhaps they can spell out for us exactly how they aren't responsible for the 4,000 plus chemicals in a sickarette, chemicals which their ex-employees will tell you were introduced to their products for the express purpose of "keeping their customers for a lifetime". Come on, BT -- explain to a little 9 year old girl why she can't have her mommy anymore. Explain to these kids who once were athletes why their toes are being eaten away by a disease your tobacco products caused... and make sure you include all the ways that these consequences, which you so secretly arranged, are not really your fault.

As much as I hate to say it - I do hope the FDA gets jurisdiction over tobacco products. The FDA doesn't have much to do with the receipt of lobby monies, so maybe Big Tobacco's expenditures over the past several decades in lobby money won't help them anymore.

God speed, and it's about damn time.

Day 408

I know that I say this just about every time I post, but wow... I can hardly believe my Quit! I am so very happy to be smoke-free, even when I get sneak attacks from my inner junkie and have a smoking thought or two. It's no problem keeping myself in my non-junkie mindset anymore. It's more of an annoyance that the other mindset ever existed really.

I'm in the south awaiting the birth of our latest grandbaby; we should get to see her make her grand entrance this week. Since she'll be ushered in special delivery (aka "C-Section") we believe we know the exact date and time. But of course, you can't fool Mother Nature. If she wants things done on a different schedule -- well, we won't argue.

I've been around more smokers here in the past week and a half than I have been in the last 3 years in SD. Sadly, all of my kids smoke. Or did. My youngest has just proclaimed her independence. Today is her D3. She's doing well, and I pray she keeps this Quit. I pray she understands how very lucky it is to have an easy Quit. She slapped a patch on and kept one on 24/7 till today. She took it off early this a.m. and seems to prefer CT.

I sincerely hope she holds on.

I'm still learning so much. I think that's one of the best gifts you give yourself during a Quit -- the gift of self-discovery. Of setting yourself on a journey and, eventually, one day, realizing you've been on a journey all this time -- it's just that now you're aware of the journey, and of the blessing of continually learning new things. It's been amazing.

One thing I believe is that I traded my addiction to sickarettes for an addiction to food. I'm doing something about it, and I hope attaining my weight goals is as pain-free and rewarding as my achievement in quitting has been. I've joined SparkPeople and I really do like that. But if you want, you can go to NutriSystem's website and use their meal planners and such, and not have to buy their food even. It's all free.

That's a price point I can live with. :-)

The point is, I knew when I was going through the early stages of my Quit that I was substituting food. I just really had hoped that it would level itself out. Now, when I'm bored I just reach for food. Not good. It's behavioral, not craving based - but it's still not good. I'll keep my progress posted here as I go through the reduced intake and increased expenditure of calories...

I'm really looking forward to getting home, driving my new little buggy around. Love the new buggy, even though it is neither new or perfect. It's a symbol of my striking out on my own somewhat, not being so dependent anymore (which is something I've struggled with so badly the past three years).

It also means I can go to the gym during lunch break or even before I begin working every day. I really have to decide what's going to be most productive for me on a variety of levels and then just make it work.

I wonder what the coming summer will bring in terms of the fireworks stuff. I wonder if things are going to continue going as rough with the company as they have over the past XX months since the new "management" took over. I pray to all that is Holy that they don't try to rip off my BL and take his show away from him on the 4th. It's his 10 year mark at that site, and if they give his show to somebody else... well it'll be bad.

I hate being alone in hotel rooms. But I better get some rest. Tomorrow is Valentine's day - my 3 year old grand-daughter's birthday - and the first time all week I'll have a chance to actually work on stuff that will result in getting paid. So stay tuned and I'll update the blog with new grandbaby info and details on the family doings.

KTQ!

Day 397

I got this email from a friend today and I wanted to share it. The nostalgia of it resonates with me, of course, and I've long railed against the "disposable" nature our society has assumed. But this also speaks to me of our Quits...

I grew up in the 60's/70's with practical parents. A mother, God love her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it. She was the original recycle queen, before they had a Name for it... A father who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones.

Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers, tee shirt and a hat and Mom in a house dress, lawn mower in one hand, and dish-towel in the other. It was the time for fixing things. A curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress Things we keep.

It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that re-fixing, eating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more.

But then my mother died, and on that clear summer's night, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more.

Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up and goes away...never to return. So... While we have it.. it's best we love it... And care for it... And fix it when it's broken.... And heal it when it's sick.

This is true... For marriage.... And old cars... And children with bad report cards..... Dogs and cats with bad hips.... And aging parents.... And grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it. Some things we keep. Like a best friend that moved away or a classmate we grew up with.

There are just some things that make life important, like people we know who are special.... And so, we keep them close!

I received this from someone who thinks I am a 'keeper', so I've sent it to the people I think of in the same way... Now it's your turn to send this to those people that are "keepers" in your life.

Keep them close

Our Quits are worth Keeping -- and we are worth the effort of learning to live smoke-free. Because we are worth keeping, too.

Keep the Quit Every Buddy!

Day 392

I've been posting some news stories that come to my website, QuitKeepers, by way of RSS feed, and I stumbled across the story from the NY Times bemoaning actors' restrictions from lighting up on stage. One comment was made that smoking onstage is an issue of "freedom of expression" and another actually said that "smoking is a part of our history".

C'mon people. Get real.

Addiction to smoking is already difficult enough to overcome without encountering the second-hand smoke in a theater. There is no doubt that various plays and productions have to portray people smoking in order to be true to the scene. But as the NY Times article points out, Molly Ringwald, for whom I suddenly have increased respect, used a fake cigarette that emitted powder to simulate smoke to be true to her role in "Sweet Charity".

As to the argument about smoking being part of our history... if we use that kind of rationale, then shooting up heroine onstage is okay. The near genicide of entire Native American tribes onstage would be true to history. Extermination of various cultures or persons of a specific religion or ancestry would be true to history, if enacted on stage.

In short - it's a perfectly legitimate desire to depict what really happened in our history, without actually doing the thing you're depicting.

Smoking kills people. If you're going to give waivers to actors so they can smoke actual cigarettes of any form, tobacco or herbal or whatever, then how about we have an encore presentation of a few terminal cancer patients in their death throes instead of a cast call for a standing ovation.

Day 384

It is completely unbelievable to me that I'm more than a year Quit. I've been going through some pretty intense job interviews lately and can't deny that smoking thoughts haven't been far behind, but they're behind me nonetheless. Having said that, I remind myself as needed that "every day is day one" when beating any addiction.

My Quit showed me how strong it is this afternoon. I was in meetings all afternoon with two very good friends and B2B clients of mine that I sometimes collaborate with. One of the gentlement smokes. He did smoke only outside, and just as I would have done when I was a smoker, he backed away from everybody as he puffed on his sickarette. At first I was a little scared of the situation, but then I began to feel badly for him...

That's how it is for smokers. You have to step back five paces from your friends and loved ones if you're a smoker. You have to worry about how you smell and whether your second hand smoke is giving somebody you love cancer or not. You worry whether your smoke is burning somebody else's eyes or making them sneeze. You worry about whether people really want to be near you or not.

So, all the while you're smoking, you also distance yourself emotionally. Because all of that hurts, regardless of how deeply you may be able to bury it. The reality of it is still there. And if a smoker doesn't care enough about their loved ones to think of these things - I feel doubly badly for them. How blind we are when we are addicted. How little we realize and how much we have to face later, when the blindfold of our substance abuse is swept from our eyes.

Wish me luck on the job interview! This could be the "domino that starts the domino effect" in terms of our lives improving by leaps and bounds.

Day 297 - Unbelievable

Today I have saved over $900.00. Good thing too, with the price of smokes and the tax penalties, huh? California is trying to get a little carried away with that whole tax the smokers thing. I understand the idea behind it, and actually I'm empathetic to a point.

But those who support the proposition in California aren't about helping those who are addicted find a way to Quit. They're about giving the hospitals and medical care-givers autonomy. They're about locking in how the state can spend the funds it receives from the tax increase. They're about greed, if you ask me.

Where did it get into somebody's head that the best way to make a living is to find somebody who is prone to something, or has a weakness or something inside them that makes them vulnerable in some way, and capitalize on that until their victim is either in the poor house or dead?

Anyway... only focusing on the positive here. QuitKeepers got a face lift today. That was fun. I love the versatility of that software.

In 3 days I am 300 days into my Quit.

Let me say that again...

I am 300 Days Quit in Three Days!

Day 188

Well, I'm back home. We actually got back Wednesday late afternoon, but I haven't been good for anything at all since we finished packing up the truck after the show. My feet felt like two solid blocks of concrete at the end of my legs when we dragged our sorry selves up to the hotel room just before midnight the night of the 4th. We ached so badly everywhere that we couldn't sleep. So we just laid there and tried to let our bodies recover. There are three nights a year that I take Tylenol PM, pain reliever and sleep aid. July 3rd, 4th and 5th. But even with the Tylenol PM, sleep was not easy coming to me after the show.

This year was at least 20 degrees hotter than any other year we've been at this site. Two of us, our pyro photographer friend and myself, are very susceptible to the heat and both of us came very close to heat stroke on the 3rd. My BL ended up speaking sternly to both of us, telling us to stay in the shade and quit pushing ourselves so hard. So she and I stopped helping build the troughs and started doing shell count and inventory. We found a rather major problem and it turned out to be a very good thing that we had been assigned to stay in the shade doing this task.

Because we caught the problem in time, we were able to correct it which enabled us to work in the shade the rest of the day. We got done on the 3rd about 4:30 in the afternoon. Everybody headed to their hotel rooms and some ice cold air conditioning for a few hours. We met together for a meal my BL hosts each year -- this year at the Souplantation, which is a magnificent salad bar plus desert bar, pasta bar and soup bar after you get through the extensive salad line. Of course, our crew is encouraged to bring their family with them for the meal, and when we got everybody in line, when the first person in line was at the end, my BL and I were still at the beginning of the salad line. It was funny to see this whole line of people taking up one entire side of the salad bar and know that all of them were our people.

We started early on the day of the 4th because of the problem my friend and I had discovered. We actually had hoped to be able to work in the cool of the morning, correcting the numbering of the shells that had been done incorrectly. No such luck. BL and I got there at 8:30 and the rest of the crew got there at 9. It was already so hot by 9 a.m. that we were literally dripping sweat, sitting under our shade tents. By 2 in the afternoon, when we broke for a barbecue lunch, we were almost done dropping and loading the shells. By 4:30 we were done with what was left, completely tested, and ready to go.

Some of the crew had brought blankets, and laid them down in the shade that the cars made. Many crew members could be seen lying down on the blankets, sleeping for several hours. Some of us, however, were expected to be more of a hostess / public relations person (guess who I'm talking about...) and greeted our guests and visiting "dignitaries". We had given guest passes to the pyro area to the general manager of our hotel and his family, to several of my BL's business contacts, and other assorted people. All of these people had to be greeted, welcomed, and made to feel as if there was nothing more important than them for at least fifteen minutes.

Finally it was time for the show. I was the spotter on the south safe zone boundary again this year, which entails walking back and forth along the boundary making sure no smoldering debris touched ground (or spectators) or had a chance to catch fire. It's not a bad spot to be in for the show. Even though you do have to be watching the falling debris, you still get to see some of the show. The best part about it is that you're right next to the spectators, so you're the person who hears their comments during the show, and enjoy being able to hear the applause and cheering best after the show.

But it's 18 minutes more on your feet as well. And of course, after the show there's the tear down. OY! All the work you've done over the past 2 days is undone in less than 3 hours, if you're lucky. We tore down the troughs, cleaned out the guns, folded up the strips, and carefully crated the modules and firing panel. Then we packed up the truck as neatly as it came to us, and put all the garbage in one place next to the trash receptacle that had been provided to us. We were done with tear down by 11:32 - and I don't think a single one of us could have lifted so much as a safety pin by the time we were done.

Of course, we did eventually get to sleep, and we didn't even begin to move until 10 the next morning. By noon we were at our favorite breakfast spot with those of our crew who had stayed over. (Yes, some of our crew actually drove home after tear down - 2 hours back to San Diego - because they had to work the next day. I have no idea how they managed that -- all I can figure is youth has its privileges.) But we had breakfast at noon on the 5th with those who had stayed, and then we headed back south. We had twelve shells left over (out of a 593 shell show, which is really not bad) so we had to drive the truck back with the explosives sign on it - and drive very carefully.

We literally got home and crawled straight into bed. Eventually we got up and went out for food. The next day, we somehow found the strength and energy to get the truck cleaned out and stuff stored in the garage downstairs, then out for another meal. Since then, we've basically done nothing more than shower, eat, sleep, rinse and repeat. I woke up feeling a bit better today.

I know we have to do the Seaworld show tomorrow so I'm just not pushing myself at all. My feet have returned, thank God because I really hated trying to move around with those concrete blocks at the ends of my legs. Monday I'll get back to work. Today I'm still trying to come back to life.

I have three pictures for my Q Buds. Click each one to see it full sized. The first is a shot of the shells that I dedicated to those of us who have declared our independence from smoking. They were "twin" shells, meaning they would go up into the air at exactly the same time, break at exactly the same time, and look exactly the same. Here's what they looked like before we put them in the guns:

Those are five inch shells, the biggest we had on the show. The next pic is a shot that one of our crew members took... my friend, the gal who was having the heat stroke with me, is a great photographer. She got a picture of the very first shot of the show - it's so beautiful:

Isn't that just gorgeous? She does so well! And, fortunately, she was also able to catch the dedicated shells right as they broke in the sky together...

I'm going to try to make it to the Friday Night Bonfire -- so I better finish this up. If anybody from the Q is reading this -- I'm flattered! LOL! Really, pyro is boring to most people.

But celebrating our independence from nicotine addiction is never boring.