TEN YEARS

Sorry, I missed this back in November of last year. I couldn’t log back in but now I have. I’m still here and still not smoking. I don’t think I’ll smoke again now so take it that that’s that (because I probably won’t be bothered to work out how to get back in again in ten years time).

Five years!

A lot has happened in that time which I won’t go into now. Just to say, best never to start in the first place. But if you do, then quit, even if smoking looks cool.

xx

Two years smoke free!

And one day (I forgot the update yesterday).

One year smoke free!

Read all about it here.

Follow @jeres

Six months smoke free

Check me! Off out for a curry to celebrate.

Now blogging at ParisNatch.com

je suis venu te dire que je m’en vais

I came to tell you that I’m going. I’ve very much enjoyed writing this blog and it definitely helped me in my crusade to give up smoking, but I really don’t have another thing to say about giving up smoking. I hope it’s been helpful.

Thank you for reading and all the people who followed. If you’d like to follow further I’ve just moved to Paris and will be writing about my new life in said city at Parisnatch.com. Please cast your eyes over my new site, oh yeux…

Thanks,
Jeremy
x

Day One Hundred and Forty

Good afternoon, I’m at home in Paris listening to Lana Del Rey whilst suffering from SSRI Discontinuation Syndrome, which entertainingly feels like my brain is being sucked up to heaven by a mighty vacuum cleaner in the sky and then punched like a cushion by a cosmic overlord. It’s definitely interesting, I can heartily recommend it if you enjoy disconcerting out of body experiences.

Anyway – a wee update. I’m still craving cigarettes now and again. I can’t really be too specific about when these cravings occur and for what reason, but they’re still there. They’re not intense though and I’m prepared to put up with them for a while, maybe a long while. I’m still glad I don’t smoke. I’m happy that I can run around Jardin du Luxembourg and not get out of breath, even if my head doesn’t feel like it’s entirely there.

At the Jardin du Luxembourg today. Printemps!

I’m not sure there’s much more I can say about not smoking! I’m starting a new blog. It might be Thursday as I have to wait in for a bed on Tuesday at my new apartment and I don’t have internet there yet. And then on Wednesday I’m waiting for the mattress! Yes, my life is pretty sexy right now.

Day One Hundred and Twenty Eight

Today is No Smoking Day, like the Catholic Church gave a shit. They elected a new Pope and billowed white smoke out without a care in the world. Pope Francis ironically only has one working lung in order, though whether or not he was a fagger as a teenager I can’t confirm one way or the other. Still, naughty boy or no it’s never going to be as bad as being in the Hitler Youth now is it? Hopefully if it turns out he’s not a Nazi or a facilitator of child molesters then he might even make some friends outside of Rome.

The pope smoking a doobie

I’m moving to Paris in one week’s time. I’m going to start a new blog I think. Ideas for a name?

Day One Hundred And Sixteen

I suppose I stopped taking Champix about two weeks ago and as I was clearing out four or five days ago I threw the pills I had left into the bin. I’ve not smoked since 13 days in which must now mean I’ve not had a puff for more than 100 days. I did however light a cigarette and walk with it down the street the other day, as you do. I should probably explain…

I had some Gitanes left from last summer that I’d kept because I liked the dancing gypsy emblem (don’t call me racist, ‘gitane’ means gypsy in French, dickwad). Anyway, they were filterless and almost impossible to smoke so I didn’t at the time, though the packet remained with me perched on my desk on top of Brian Wilson’s autobiography.

Daniel Day-Lewis smoking a fag

So anyway, I ended up doing a focus group about smoking recently. It was very interesting because I was meant to be a smoker, and I figured that was something I could be reasonably well. It’s not that I was lying, I was just playing myself from three months ago, which I think is perfectly acceptable. Only if I was to play myself from three months ago then how come I didn’t smell of fags? This is the sort of attention to detail that’s won Daniel Day Lewis three Oscars you know. I bought a coffee, lit this cigarette (that was thankfully so dry that it burnt up unaided) and walked along Oxford Street remembering what it was like to hold a cigarette in my hand without taking a puff. It felt queer actually, and I didn’t miss it.

Smoking definitely feels like it’ll serve no purpose in glorious, impending adventures.

Day One Hundred and Five

And here then without further ado is that piece I was talking about in the last blog…