Smoking (cont.)
I bought a pack of Djarum Lights from one of our Corpsmen who got some in the mail and I really like them. I just finished the pack and now regular cigarettes taste like, well, smoke.
Hedonist Matt (from McCarty/McMahon) used to smoke cloves and always had a pleasant incensey smell about him, and I used to go out and hang out with him while he smoked (after they locked our balcony) just 'cause I liked the smell.
Everyone keeps telling me, though, that cloves are so much worse for you than regular smokes. But, hell, I didn't start smoking because it's healthy.
I occasionally suspect that I'm enjoying it too much, the smoking, but then, can you really enjoy anything too much?
Things I like about smoking that are probably not very interesting or novel:
- How it can be equally enjoyable as a social or solitary activity.
- How I am never waiting for more than ten or fifteen minutes for anything (after that I'm not waiting, I'm smoking.)
- How it can augment an already enjoyable activity to make it more enjoyable, or make a miserable one tolerable.
For an example of 3, I like to smoke while reading, smoking on the shitter is great, and smoking while playing Poker is the best. I almost look forward to getting up in the middle of the night for post, now, because I know I'll take a few minutes to smoke a cigarette. Often I'll smoke two.
And this is already the second time I've written about smoking.
I also like the peripheral aspects of being a smoker, like carrying a lighter, and packing cigarettes.
Jake sent me the first volume of Lucifer comics, and though I was skeptical about a Gaiman spinoff written by someone else, it had his endorsement of it right there on the cover (I suppose for people just like me), so I gave it a shot and rather enjoyed it. Some of the stories seemed a bit rushed, but I'm looking forward to checking out the rest of the series.
I'm now reading some of EB White's collected essays that my sister sent me, though I don't think I've ever read Charlotte's Web. So far I quite like it. I'm sure I've mentioned before how much I enjoy reading essays, and these are of perfect length, which is to say: short.
Most of the essays seem to be about either living in the city or living in the country, and though I like them both, I come to the country ones more as a visitor or a tourist than as someone who identifies with what country life is like. I guess that informs what kind of person I am.
One of the best essays a reflection on a dachshund he used to own named Fred, who I think is pictured on the back cover. On the front cover it shows White with a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, and I realize, as with everything, I've arrived extremely late to the smoking scene. I sometimes wish I had lived during a time when smoking was more acceptable. As it happens, smoking is becoming less and less popular (I think), places in which to smoke are becoming scarcer, and cigarettes are getting more and more expensive. I read the other day that Bhutan has banned smoking in the entire country.
Because of the circumstances in which I started smoking, I am anticipating something of a culture shock when we get back Stateside. That is: I imagine the rules for smoking are different at home. Strangely, I'm looking forward to the novelty of learning these rules.
At the same time I'm looking forward to aspects of smoking away from the Marine Corps. Smoking while walking, for example, is against Marine Corps regs. Ridiculous, I know.
Anyway, I like to smoke.