every once in awhile. I have a thought. And well... being the declared fruit rather than a girl, that I am... I find it only appropriate to blog a few of those thoughts under the alias of a semi-obscure piece of fruit that of course, has become one of my ever-growing collection of nicknames.


I Have No Lid Upon My Head But If I Did...

My own particular brainfood, I think agrees with many others, or at least with several of my friends. And that brainfood just so happens to be cigarettes.

I don't know what it is about looking down at the tiny glowing end of that damn stick of cancerous chemicals, but there's something there. It's like the ignition my head neads to reboot.

So tonights cigarette induced thoughts lead me to actually wonder what I did to get the ball rolling upstairs before I became a certified smoker. Honestly, I don't think I can remember. But I do have some vague recollections of a lot of mac n' cheese, to the extent where I kind of gave myself an allergy. There's also a passing memory of a buttload of chocolate milk, which also has somehow become my own popular piece of lactose intolerance. Go figure. So that might have been it. It may have been an actual food.

Somewhere early 10th grade I do firmly believe that Dr. Pepper alone had the ability to send every idea my subconcious stored away smack into my concious state, but once again I have no certainty about that.

But there's no denying the effect a 5:30 AM cigarette has on my own mental capacity. It's slowly amazing me.

Which also leads me to believe that "the day I don't enjoy it anymore, is the day I'll quit." statement, to be a far more distant and future-sque day than I had originally thought. But that's a notion I had even before my most recent realization of how functional smoking has become to connecting my synapses.

Interesting, one of the things that provides me with the most lively thing I have these days, (yes, I consider in-depth thinking one of the only enriching things I've got left, besides conversation, but of course, winter is just around the corner) is caused by something that will inevitably play a surely significant role in my death. Pending of course, I don't get hit by a bus while crossing the street someday. Which by the way, is always my example about why living as day by day as possible is an important quality.

Why spend any time depriving oneself or bother sitting through irritations any more often than necessary when of course, I could get hit by a bus crossing the street to American Outfitters. And just a side note, I use that example for the simple fact that the only place I've been going with any regularity is the ol' Diner and American Outfitters is right across the street. Now why you might ask would i be crossing that street at all... well my sister used to work there, her co-workers all still do and every last one of them still remembers me, so every so once in a great while, I look up from my table and decide it's time for a reunion and I lop myself on over to bid everyone "hello" and I am indeed about due for one of those refreshing with that ever-so-slightly annoying side tinge feelings of a visit. Not that the explanation was necessary. I was just kind of on a roll with the rambling deal-eeO (yeah, what else is new?)

Ah the tricks.