What is it about smoking that feels mysterious, or sexy, or chic? Or is that it? Do you smoke because of its image or do you smoke because it’s convenient? It gives you something to do with your hands at parties, I guess. But what else is there? Despite everything you know about smoking – emphysema, the fatality of lung cancer, the fact that it will give asthma to your kids if you keep this up – you’re still doing it. There has to be a reason.

Friends, I’m not trying to guilt-trip or shame you. Certainly, if you want to smoke – go ahead! It only hurts you (well, mostly — anyone in your direct vicinity is getting a good dose of secondhand, but hopefully, you make the conscientious choice to smoke away from others). I’m just trying to understand.

More than anything, smoking is disgusting. It smells bad. And let’s be real, you smell bad. I know you talk about how you always change your jacket from smoking outside to coming inside. I know you wear perfume, brush your teeth, wash your hair. But it’s still there. A constant scent underneath your body spray, your toothpaste. You stink, buddy. Plain and simple.

I think the worst thing is that it makes you look like you don’t care. It’s one thing to not care about what people think of you, or to not worry about intimidating other people. That’s confidence and it’s sexy. It’s different to look like you actually don’t care about yourself: your health and your future don’t matter as much to you as that cigarette. And friend, that is not sexy.

In the end, I want you to be in my future, friends. I want to get really old and cranky together. But the more I see you smoke, the more I realize you might not be there to play checkers in the park or feed pigeons together.

Friend, I hope someday you decide to quit. I’ll be there for you until that point, of course, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to contain my excitement when you make that decision.

Love always,

Michelle

Michelle is a food fanatic and fashion blogger trying to find her way in a post-graduate world. When she’s not frantically applying to grad schools, she’s shopping online and pretending to be getting work done. You can follow her @lockedoutblog! 

It was a normal night of drunken debauchery, probably escalated a little bit due to my freshman girl status. My friend Tess and I had gone on Spring Break with a few senior guys, and we had since attached ourselves to them, thinking we were way too cool to hang out with boys our own age.

Definitely trying to impress the older crowd, we had taken a few too many shots and were hanging outside with the smokers.  Our friend Scott standing with his arms around both of us – me on the left, and Tess on the right, cigarette in her hand. Scott brought us in for a dual hug and the next thing I knew, the cigarette landed squarely in the middle of my forehead.

Did it burn? I have no idea. Did I cry about the hole in my forehead? Probably, but still, I have no idea. All I know is the next morning I woke up face down in my bed, with Tess sleeping at the foot of the bed like a dog.

I was frazzled and confused to say the least. I wondered why Tess had not slept in her own bed and what the strange feeling on my head was. I reached up to touch my forehead and screamed. “THERE’S A SPLOTCH OF VOMIT ON MY FOREHEAD. GROSS!”

I ran to the bathroom to clean myself up, and it was then, looking in the bathroom mirror, that I realized it was not my regurgitated dinner stuck on my face at all, but flaps of burnt skin rippling across my forehead.

According to Tess, I got back to my room safe and sound, then IMed her on AIM and said “Help. Sick. Broom. Help.” She came right over and I spent the entire night pretending to throw up in my bed as she rubbed my back.  That’s right, pretending. I guess I was desperate for attention. It also explains why my brain told me I had slept facedown in my own barf that night.

For the next three weeks, I walked around campus with a gaping wound on my forehead. Prior to the cigarette burn incident, I had been asked to a social by a senior guy. When I showed up in my formal wear, I immediately apologized for my unsightly wound.

“Oh, that’s a burn? I just thought you had a huge zit,” he replied, with a disgusted look on his face.

And since then, I have been completely 100% smoke free.

No packs. No puffs. No nothing. I went completely cold turkey after NYE and I’ve maintained it for an entire week. It’s very difficult; especially when I had a few glasses of wine this weekend and desperately wanted one, but I had the will power to say NO to myself.

I am a strong willed person and if I set my mind to something, I stick to it. After seeing a series of horrific smoking commercials, I made a serious resolution to myself that, on top of not wanting my teeth to turn yellow and my hair to permanently smell like an ashtray, I don’t want to die from lung cancer (cliché but true).

So, for now, I’ve a week smoke free. I feel cleaner, healthier, and will hopefully continue on this path. Wish me luck!

(Photo courtesy of smokefreezone.org)

According to an article in the New York Times, scientists have discovered a toxic yet invisible residue left behind after someone smokes. Unlike the second-hand smoke that someone can blow out a window or fan out of a room, these dangerous particles get stuck to surfaces like rugs, clothing and the fabric on a couch.

Also unlike second-hand smoke, which people can obviously see, people do not realize that these particles exist, which makes them even more dangerous. The article explains that the smell on someone’s clothes or in a room after someone smokes is a sign that the toxic chemicals are still present. So, just because the smoke has cleared from a room or car doesn’t mean that the air is clean and safe.

“There are carcinogens in this third-hand smoke, and they are a cancer risk for anybody of any age who comes into contact with them.”

This is something to think about if you are a smoker or know someone who is. This may also be a sign that banning smoking in restaurants and bars isn’t enough; soon they may make you change your clothes when you get back from having that much needed cigarette.

Now, I just have to get my brain to agree with the rest of my body.

I have come to hate the smell and, almost equally, hate the taste. When my non-smoker co-workers won’t come near me because I reek of smoke, it makes me feel a little embarrassed, so I have been working on not smoking at all. I’m a human and have a weak moment here or there, but, for the most part I am doing much better.

The thing is, I really want to quit. I know it’s a horrendous and dirty habit, not to mention completely unhealthy. That said, there’s still a small part of me that needs that smoke when I’m stressed or upset, which – granted – is not very often, but still makes me want that smoke when I need it. I need to find another outlet as a way to deal with my stressful situations that arise from time to time.

So far, I am less than pleased with my progress, but hey, it could be worse. This week I am focusing on trying to bite my cravings with gum or something else to stop my smoke craving. This morning I smoked one and was so grossed out I vowed to not smoke anymore the rest of the day. I know for all you non-smokers out there, it may seem odd that I just can’t quit even though I say I want to, but it’s more strenuous than it seems to be. When you’re body is used to something, cutting it out right away is hard to do.

It just means that I have been really busy/stressed/having a harder time reaching my goal.

I was doing pretty well there for awhile (I even had a few cigarette free days!), but between Thanksgiving (and the ever infamous Night Before Thanksgiving), school stress and that nagging in the back of my head to “just have one,” this whole quitting thing has proven more difficult than I thought.

I have gotten a bit better with the drinking thing, though. I took some of your advice and have forced my friends to police me when I am at the bar. Yes, I may have snuck away for a cigarette or two one night, but that is still a hell of a lot better than the half a pack I used to suck down on a given night.

As I said before, going to the bar is the hardest part of this journey, but I can’t give that up. I need to set a goal that is realistic and saying I am not going to drink is just not true. My goal for this week is twofold:

1. No more smoking unless I am drinking. You may think that is a BS goal, but I need to cut things out one at a time. And let me tell you; not taking a smoke break during exam time is going to be hard.

2. When I am drinking, I am going to limit my cigarettes to one. One and only one. I tend to smoke a lot at the bar because I can, but I don’t necessarily always want or need that many. If I can cut down to one, I can definitely cut down to zero.

We’ll see how that goes.

Well, I’ve been trying to refrain from smoking at all, but – geez – it is tough. Last week wasn’t too bad – I smoked maybe one or two a day and had a day or two where I didn’t smoke a cig at all. Even better, I didn’t even crave one – score!

But, then, I went to a Halloween party last weekend where I buckled and smoked about ten cigarettes in one night. I know, bad girl, Kelly; but honestly, with all the liquor, I just let myself go with the smoking…again. There’s something about needing a smoke with my vodka soda, or my glass of red wine that I just can’t seem to shake. Am I the only one?

After my lovely smoking binge of Friday, I tried to calm down the rest of the weekend. And I did. I smoked only one or two cigarettes a day for the rest of the weekend.

On my way to work on Monday, though, I almost put my car in park and asked the guy in traffic behind me, who was smoking a cig, if I could bum one. Then I realized how crazy and pathetic I would have looked, so I stopped myself. I didn’t have a cigarette that morning, and I didn’t have one for the rest of the day. I made a conscious decision to either go big – and do it as close to cold turkey as I can until I can finally withdraw myself from the cravings – or not do it at all. And not doing it at all is not an option.

I know what all of you non-smokers must be thinking: it’s such a disgusting habit and can give you cancer, so why do people smoke in the first place? I know you’re right, but it’s more than just a bad habit to me. When I’m stressed, a smoke calms be down; when I’m out for cocktails with my girlfriends, a smoke feels great with that dirty martini; and so on.

But, I will prevail. I will keep trying and keep you informed. If you have any tips on how to kick this habit and go cold turkey, fill me in. I want to be done with cigarettes by Christmas – sort of, like, a present to myself. Think I can do it?

Well, we all – even the smokers like myself – know smoking is a bad habit. I have been smoking on and off since I was 14 and, not to date myself, with almost 10 years of smoking under my belt, I have decided it is time to try and kick the bad ‘ole habit once and for all.

Because quitting is really effing hard, I am going to share my journey with and you, CollegeCandies. I hope this inspires you to join me…and inspires me to stick with it. Smoking kills thousands and thousands of people each year and I don’t want to be part of the statistics.

So, week one, here is the progress to date:

After smoking a pack every two days, a few weeks ago I decided not to buy packs anymore. Translation: I’d only mooch my cigarettes, which I hate doing. I figured this would cut my daily intake drastically. And it did, for a few days. Then, one weekend after having a few too many cocktails (my prime time to smoke), I caved and bought a pack… and proceeded to smoke the entire pack in one evening.

Not so good for me considering I’m an avid runner who huffs and puffs on my daily run like I’m a 400 lb. man.

Then, I tried another option: limiting myself to two – four cigarettes a day. Some days, if I didn’t need them, I wouldn’t have them, and others, I’d reach my limit and learn to hold off.

As of today, October 30, 2008, I have smoked three cigarettes total. Not too shabby. When I want more cigarettes than I allow, I drink a glass of water, chew gum, or listen to music to take my mind off of it. So far, so good (kind of).

Tomorrow, I hope to smoke two, and will continue to allow myself two for each day, for the rest of this week.

The weekends are when I cave, especially if I’m out with my smoker friends…and cocktails. Any fellow smoker will know how natural it feels to have a drink in one hand and a smoke in another.

Wish me luck on my week journey to smoke free livin’! I’ll report back next week and give you the 411 on my progress. Any tips on how to kick this habit are greatly welcome, ladies.

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It was the social thing to do in college, one of my friends said, lighting up while we were driving one afternoon. It was hard for me to meet people. But at parties, these huge groups of people would be outside smoking. I’d go out there, bum a smoke, and talk to everyone. She exhaled, trying to blow it out the window, but only succeeding in covering me with poison. I tried not to breathe, and nodded.

Another time, a different friend and I were backpacking through Europe. Our hostel had a small back porch, and a lot of people sat outside at night and smoked. Whenever we would go out there, she’d light up, and start talking to everyone. I knew she wasn’t a big smoker, and it felt strange to watch her light cigarette after cigarette, laughing and joking and going through a half a pack in only a few hours.

You know, I said as we were going to sleep that night (in a room that consisted of us, and 7 Argentinean boys…so I guess when I say sleep, I mean, “as we were attempting to try to sleep, something that never happened the whole time we were there”) you could just go out and talk to people and not smoke. Just because other people are smoking, you don’t have to.

This little piece of advice got me the silent treatment for a few hours. She said I was being rude, I thought I was just pointing out the obvious.

Social smoking is a phenomenon that seems to happen most readily during college and the early Twenty-Something years. The smoking groups, standing outside a party, huddled together on the back steps in winter, killing time before class, are popular places for people to meet. How can you not strike up a conversation? Persecuted by purists, shuttled out of doors in all types of weather, smokers share a common bond. There is an instant connection merely by association.

But is the experience really worth it? Is meeting a few possible new friends worth picking up a habit that’s proven to harm your organs and even kill you? Why would you ignore all the ads and instruction of your childhood, which told you time and time again how horrible smoking is for your body, in an attempt feel more popular? And, like I asked my friend, couldn’t you just go out there and not smoke?

A new study has even found preliminary data that second hand smoke from all those crowds outside of bars and restaurants may actually be harming those of us inside. With this new information in my back pocket, and a lifelong confusion as to why anyone would want inhale something that tastes like the shit that comes out of your car’s tailpipe, I can’t help but ask—if you’re not addicted already, why start?