Smoke-briety 

I would consider myself a social smoker, mainly because I only smoke a cigarette when I’m the company of others that partake in the good old fashioned tabaccy. It’s a rare and unusual occasion (typically when I’m super stressed about one thing in particular) that I buy a pack and just smoke by my lonesome. 

I am usually not around those that do. When I am I return to my filthy habit which in turn drives my husband crazy. It is smoking that has been a huge point of contention in our relationship. He sees it as a waste of money and the person with a cigarette between their lips is instantly unattractive. While I have disagreed he is not wrong.  

In the last I would just keep my habit a secret, hiding hand sanitizer and mouth wash in my car to help wipe away the signs of my smoking. But however “good” I thought I was I know he knew. He would hold his dislike of it to himself and allow me to live in a delusion. Yet I still knew he knew. 

With the close of this show I promised myself and him to that I would stop. Not because of health reasons, or that I feel like a monstrous hypocrite when I tell my pops he needs to stop, but because of my vanity. 

When I look at those that have smoked for years, they take on a particularly leathery look filled with cracks and creases that show their age with more lathered on top. I don’t want that to be me. Plus, after this last revisit to cigarette land I felt like garbage. 

So for the betterment of my relationship and myself I will end my torrid affair with nicotine. It’s him, not me. And I hope to never return. 

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I’m 30, ladies and gentlemen!

Molly Shannon’s character embodies precisely how I feel. However Sally O’malley was proud of being half a century I am a little distraught about being one third of that time. In the beginning I didn’t know where this fear came from, but the more I thought about it that the reality came to light. 

The simple answer is I’m no longer a kid. I am an adult and getting older. There is no denying that fact. Scratch below the surface and there is the remnants of dreams long since gone. The hope that I would have accomplished so much more by the time I was this age. Yet that is very much not the case and instead my life is just beginning. I wasted the youth I had doing nothing productive. Fuck me. 

Then below that fossilized failure there is the granite of where now no one will want to fuck me. Yes I am married so that shouldn’t be a problem, but everyone wants to at least be wanted by someone else. She wants to feel attracted and desired. In the gay world once you’re thirty you may as well be dead. Just a quick look through a craigslist ad and you’ll see that top billing among “no chubs” and “no Fems” there is “only under 30.” What hurts the most is the poster is more than likely in their fucking forties so who are they to cast that stone? 

When I was in my younger years I never understood why people were so upset about turning 30. They were still the same in every way. The only change was that the number was different. That is very typically a “Josh” response. I have half empathy where I can sort of see the other side but not quite. It isn’t until I have experienced the same agony and pain do I know what it is like to be consumed. 

Now that it is just a fact that I am 30, I still feel the same. I’m still the same person with the same desires. There is no difference other than my response when asked my age. And no one will want to fuck me from a personal ad but I shouldn’t be there in the first place. Fuck them and their conceited posts. No one wants to fuck them either. That’s why they are so desperate their posting ads on Craigslist! They might as well be posting it in Parade magazine or on that one wall in every porn shop. 

As to not achieving my goals… After some reflection I realized that it is ultimately my own fault for where I am. There is only one captain on the SS DRAMA QUEEN and that is Josh. No one else calls the shots. Instead of feeling bad about it I will change it and put engines to full steam ahead. The only way to change tomorrow is by changing today. 

Finally, I am an adult. Yes. I am worthy of the title by age alone. But however old I am I still act like a kid. I had a Star Wars birthday cake for christs sake. (My mother in law knows me well.) I read comics, I play nerdy card games, I play D&D, and I WILL be one of those nerds that is dressed like a Jedi when Episode VII premieres in December. It’s all state of mind and if I let the fear and panic consume me those are just going to bring down the ship. 

Now is the time to get serious. My twenties were for fun, making new friends, and having unforgettable experiences that only a dumb twenty something would do. However fleeting life is (and it is fucking short) I still have enough time to become a journalist, a published novelist, an appraiser, and a father. It is all up to me.