I started smoking on my eighteenth birthday because, well, I thought I looked cool. My forays into the smoking world expanded upon reaching St Andrews where, my first year, a good 30 to 40 percent of the students/population smoked on a regular basis. I figured I would quit after graduating … didn’t happen. I decided to quit when I moved to New Jersey … didn’t happen. I was really going to stop when they passed the smoking ban … didn’t happen, and I froze my ass off on a regular basis.

Now, though, I got myself a prescription for Chantix. I know, I know, many of you will think that’s the lazy man’s way out, taking a prescription instead of using self control to quit, but as many of you know, self control isn’t always my strong point where habits are concerned. Basically, Chantix blocks the receptors in the brain that usually suck up all the nicotine … so you can smoke and smoke and it’ll do nothing for you until eventually you realize it’s hopeless and quit.

Of course, I’m not one for remembering to take pills on a regular basis either, but Chantix really seems to work when I remember to pop one. In fact, every time I take it - and they say you’re meant to keep smoking while you’re quitting, which is how I got sold on the idea - the cigarettes I have a) taste awful, and b) make me feel nauseous. So if I’m able to maintain the daily pill schedule, I think I’d definitely be an ex-smoker within a few weeks.

Anyway, I was perusing the site of the 2008 Bloggies (think the Oscars for bloggers) and made my way over to the “Best Writing of a Weblog” category, where I found the winner, Confessions of a Pioneer Woman. And - would ya look at that - I was thoroughly horrified-slash-amused (terrible, I know, but I can’t help it) by the first post I saw. Little kids aren’t as oblivious as they seem.

Finally, I did the math: if I were to quit smoking, which I fully intend to do soon (though after the Brits leave - Becks is my smoking buddy, and it would be too hard to give that up while she’s here), the cost savings per month would amount to half of a car payment. That’s a good incentive right there.

Yes, I bought a car this weekend, and it’s a beaut. Wait for pictures, ‘cos you know they’re comin’.

As gas prices near an altogether appalling $4 per gallon, Meg and I have both decided that it’s time to look for new cars.  My current one, a ‘99 Ford Escort ZX2, was intended to last me no more than a year as kind of a ‘rebound’ vehicle after my Acura Integra was stolen back in 2006, but clearly that one-year mark has come and gone and I’ve still got it.  And it’s slowly dying, piece by piece.  It still runs, mind you, but I really do think it’s time to start driving a reliable, warrantied vehicle that I’m proud of, not this ghetto-esque thing that I bought for two grand and have since shoveled in another two in upkeep.

Meg’s car is a hand-me-down from her brother, who is stationed in Hawaii currently and has no need for a vehicle.  Unfortunately, the Kia had pretty much been run into the ground when he owned it, and now Meg keeps waking up to new problems.

So it’s just time.  I am 98% sure that I’m going to get a “galaxy gray” Mazda3 Grand Touring, complete with leather seats, a Bose soundsystem (*drools*), keyless entry, alarm system, and all that fun stuff.  Those things run about $24k new, but you can find some pretty sweet deals if you go pre-owned, so I’ll probably end up doing that.

Meg, meanwhile, took it upon herself to research some cars last night, and just to give you a sample of the list, she thinks she’d be happy with a Mazda RX-8, a Porsche Boxter, a Jeep Wrangler, an Audi TT, and a Nissan 350z.  Can you tell she’s quite the sporty person, not to mention one with rather expensive taste?  She would have probably bought the RX-8 already were she not stressing over the low gas mileage … but it is a very pretty car.

My dreams of an Acura TL will be put on the back burner for now.  Who really wants to be paying a load of money per month for a car loan during a recession?  Not I.

I’ll admit that I took a little offense to my friend’s statement a couple of month’s ago. Meg and I had gone over to her apartment (as she had just moved in with her girlfriend of two years), and they had recently redecorated the place with some paint and new furniture. As we were admiring the apartment - because, really, it is very nice - she said, “Our house is like the place you go for cheese and wine … your place is the party house. You know, you go there to have a really good time, get wasted.” And I know it’s silly of me to take offense to that, but let’s be honest, I have always had very specific views about how my ‘adult’ apartment would look, and that’s just not the case right now. What can I say? Our current is overflowing with DVDs, Ikea furniture, guitars for Guitar Hero, and a couple of couches that are a little too hard to fall asleep on - a must for a sofa.

Because of this, Meg and I decided our first step would be to replace the rickety, broken coffee table that currently adorns our living room with a new solid one, so we headed on down to Bob’s Discount Furniture in South Brunswick after viewing some pretty appealing commercials about it on TV. And, in addition to getting a coffee table (that’s very, very nice), we also ended up with two end tables, an entertainment center, and a tall dining room table with six of the most comfortable chairs ever, all with a dark cherry wood finish. Go us. The next day, we rented a truck from Home Depot ($20 for 75 minutes - awesome) and brought the table and chairs home, and the rest of the furniture will be delivered on Friday. I just got the confirmation call from Bob’s, and they’re expecting to be there between, get this, 6:30 and 9:30 AM. I don’t know if I’m up for arranging furniture at 6:30 in the morning, but hey, at least it’ll be long finished before our poker game Friday evening.

Now the next step is to get some light-colored sofas, and our living room will be complete. Methinks I may have to wait a paycheck or two, however - or at least see how big my tax refund is expected to be. Either way, it’s a very exciting time for our apartment, and I can’t wait for people to see it once it’s complete.

I got a surprise last week when a random young man called me and informed me that he was calling on behalf of a certain acquaintance of mine to complete her federal background investigation. The surprise was based upon two factors: one, that she hadn’t told me she had put me down as a reference, and two, that we haven’t spoken since a drama-filled fallout back in autumn of last year. That was the last time I’ve spoken with her, and to be honest, she’d largely slipped from my mind save for the occasional reminder by the feed on the Facebook main page.

The man came by last night for our meeting, which lasted about half an hour. He asked all the usual questions - “How do you know her?,” “Has she ever worked for a foreign government?,” “Has she ever been a member of an extremist group?,” and so forth. Nothing major. With some of the questions, like those relating to drugs and alcohol abuse, I think I may have had more problems answering if the person in question weren’t so straight-edged. Anyway, I gave my recommendation and thus did my civic duty. I just thought it was random.

It is positively freezing outside, and tomorrow is supposed to be ugly, dark, gray, windy, and even colder. Blah. As much as I enjoy winter sports (which I haven’t been able to do this winter, as snow seems to be eluding the state of New Jersey though it has piled up everywhere else in the country), I’m done with winter this year. It can scamper back to its little cave and rouse the springtime now.

I may just be bitter because I’ve come under attack by a cold bug that is, really, exhausting my body and my mind. This is yet another one of those times I wish I were back in school. I would have no problems skipping out on a class because I feel crappy. But here in the real world, taking sick days constitutes losing vacation days, which I refuse to allow. I’m deliberately saving my days off so that I can have a proper few weeks to enjoy Midsommar in Sweden. That’s my plan, and I’m sticking to it. I haven’t been back there in, wow, five years next month (wtf?), and it’s high time I made it back, especially since my relatives over there are getting on in years and I’d like to see them. They’re nuts, but in a fun way. Let’s face it: if I had the option, I’d be living there now. Maybe if I go for my MBA at the Stockholm School of Economics, about which I’ve been thinking for awhile … but I should probably figure out my company’s policy on buggering off to go back to school first.