And what do I feel like now? Well, my muscles are much less sore, though I did have a bit of a time with my wrist during my date last night. And I'm a little edgy, but that's because this is my first day at work without cigarettes. I had a few this morning at home, and it's not even time for what would usually be my first smoke break, but just knowing that I'm not going to have one is irritating.

Sara told me this morning that they were all proud of me for doing this, and that was nice to hear. I don't think any of them had put it that way before. I mentioned it to Deb on our train ride in this morning, and she apologized for not saying it sooner. She said she'd been so worried about what I was going to go through that she thought talking much about it at all would just add to my stress. She asked me if I was doing this because I wanted to. The answer was an emphatic "no."

I love my tobacco. It smells and tastes better than other people's tobacco. I want to marry it. I want to have its babies.

What I won't miss about smoking:
Missed kisses because I taste smokey.
Coughing during sex.
Brownish-yellow stains on my fingers.
Coughing thick little globs of lung dreck into my hand or on my clothes.
Pee-spurts when I cough.
Smoking in the cold and rain.
Layers of tobacco residue accumulating on the back of my tongue.
Missing out on good conversation and laughs because I'm outside smoking.
Trying to find restaurants that allow smoking.
Burning my tongue from smoking too much in one day.
Singeing my moustache trying to light a cigarette in the wind.
People making moronic marijuana jokes when I roll a cigarette in public.
Not having to make a special trip into town to the cigar store to get my brand.

Things I will miss about smoking:
My smoking buddies in the courtyard: Tony, Stella, Saucy Pierced Lawyer Chick, Willow.
Getting out from behind my desk for 10 or 15 minutes three times each work day.
The quiet reading time with a smoke.
The lovely buzz it gives my head.
The excuse to get away from places or people and be by myself for a while.
The feel of rolling the cigarette, the paper in my hands.
Having a smoke before a sex scene with Sara and using the time to get into character.
Sitting outside on the front porch, discouraging roamers-by from thinking about robbing any house on this street.
The way I feel cool rolling my own.
The calm mental state it puts me in, like nothing can bother me while I'm having a smoke.

Mechaieh is coming to visit this Friday, and the following weekend she'll be a guest at the Rancho for a whole day and a half. She'll make the fourth Badsnake reader I've met in person who I didn't already know in some capacity before I started my diary. Gotta remember to wash the comforter in the attic before Friday.

Now that I'm not smoking at work, I'm more susceptible to online diversions. Today I pre-ordered a Japanese pornographic CD game. I hope I can figure out how to play it.

We all went to a wine tasting at a guy named Sid's house on Sunday. Normally, I really avoid tastings because I don't drink wines except ports and Rieslings. But, Sid has the Simpsonian Institute at his house, a vast, amazing collection of all things Simpsons. I wanted to see it badly enough to risk being bored to tears by the tasting. It was definitely very cool, but it's not like you could pick up stuff and really play with it, so the tour of the one-room Simpsonian (and noticing all the other Simpsons stuff distributed throughout the house) didn't really take that long.

Most of the Simpsonian, filled with tourists.

Something to interest us pervs.

A keychain for the crime scene van.

And my personal favorite of the collection, a shirt sporting the Simpsons/Sopranos.

The bottle opener that says, "Mmmmmm, beeeeeer," was pretty cool, too.

Well, it's about time for dinner. Going to have pork roast from Sunday night's dinner, mac and cheese, salad, and then we'll head over to the girls' house to watch Buffy and have some of Deb's latest ice cream flavor, caramel with brownie chunks. I love that woman.