  Ok, I give up. Im craving the act of smoking of something. This at the 3-week mark of quitting smoking. The half-dozen beers behind me catapults me into cravings beyond reasonable limits. As usual (as if my quitting smoking experience can now be spoken about with a word such as usual), Ive used getting stoned as a behavioural replacement to the inhalation of nicotine.
When I hadnt since I left for italy in the everyday-capacity I used to have, a seven year habit. It helps. And shit, its a lot less fattening than the booze I consume. Youre thinking: what? With the things I eat when it gives me the munchies?! But me! I dont get them! Something with my mental chemistry makes it affect me totally differently.
I got stoned before the Carlsbad Half-Mar and got my 13.1 done in 2 hours almost exactly. I was so high when I got there, I had a hard time putting the chip on my shoe. And you should have seen me passing people in the last three miles. I trained on chronic. I never get the munchies. If anything, dope just makes me eat when I forget. But nothing like Oreos or anything nasty like that.
I have an image in my mind of the body that Im fully committed to returning to. I may have been an emotional mess, only able to cope by running 50mi/week. But I looked too fuckable to forget about. I had almost-sex with Luis that night. Too drunk to be present, yet present enough to cry my eyes out. I was too young. Too traumatized still from the rape to have him as the fuck buddy he eventually became. I remeber that night. I cried and drove home, all liquored up and hurting. Glad we could come together later. He's a good boy. So glad he's with someone so perfect for him. However, I feel the need to mention again... / I / asked her out first. Fucking gender restrictions. 
