April 11, 2005
Three cigarettes left this morning, and nine the day before. Eleven, twenty, and four make thirty-five butts smoked day before yesterday. Seventeen and nine (with no pack in between this time) make twenty-six smoked yesterday.
Yet more rain last night and this morning. A mighty front came through after midnight. From a webline I saw, it kicked up a ruckus in Texas earlier. And I'm remembering something I heard on the radio yesterday that I found a bit odd. There was a discussion of fighting forest fires, and the announcer ended by saying that April and May are historically Florida's driest months. Or maybe it was March and April; what a memory I have, heh. But I do remember that April was one of them, because I made the remark that April showers were getting an early start with the first storm that swept through at the end of March. So maybe "April Showers" is a misnomer for good ol' Florida; sure seems to fit so far, anyway. But after all, this particular area isn't so much Florida as L.A. (Lower Alabama).
About two o'clock or so this morning there was a mighty crash and a pop, and the power went out. Thus I'm not positive exactly what time it was, since my Sony Dream Machine doesn't show the time when it's on battery backup (it also runs way fast that way, but it's better than running slow, eh?). I didn't hear the fridge running when I got up this morning, but of course, it doesn't always, even though it's way old and probably runs more than it should. The hot water seemed fine, but that doesn't mean too much, since I took a really quick shower just in case. But once I stumbled outside I saw that one of the breakers had flipped, and once I fixed that, the meter disc started spinning, and all seems to be well. It was a surprise, because I did not see light one on in any of my neighbors' houses.
Due to the way I've wired up my house's one phone line, there's a coupler right next to my bed, so I realized last night that it's super easy to disconnect the phone right before I go to sleep, if I wish (the actual jack is down there, but it's one of the old kind with a spring lid and it's a pain). I'm glad I did that; even though I am lucky enough to have a spare DSL box, I don't really want to see this one fry. The phone line does go through a surge supressor, but I doubt a direct enough strike of lightning would have much problem shouldering its way past that.
April 10, 2005
Four butts left this morning; I smoked twenty-two yesterday. Not too awfully bad, but then, I was only up twelve hours at most.
April 9, 2005
Skipped a few days, but I've got a scrap of paper here, so let's see if I can reconstruct the past (cue dramatic music): I had six cigarettes left the morning of the 7th. The morning of the 8th I had nine left. That's seventeen, but I know for sure I smoked more than that, so there must have been an in-between pack. That's thirty-eight butts smoked for the 6th, and thirty-seven for the 7th.
This morning, there were six left. I gave two away, to the Mojo Kings' new drummer, Mike. I had a good time playing with the Kings last night. Mike's a regular guy, and a good drummer. He calls me a "busy" bass player. I'm not sure that's a compliment, but I'm pretty sure he meant it as one, so that's cool. At the end of the night, Blane was really tired and we almost didn't play a final few songs, but I guess someone talked him into it. Just goofing around, I went into "Moby Dick" and Mike was right there. I realized I was kind of in hot water, since it's been so long since I worked it up that I've forgotten the arrangement. But it was a gas anyway. Mike gave me a high-five after that. He kicked ass on it, too.
So anyway, back to the butts. I smoked a lot yesterday. I was up until almost four in the morning, I smoked a lot driving, and I smoked, like, three cigarettes per break (the MKs do take some long breaks, I gotta say. Why can't more places be so laid-back?). Can't smoke indoors anymore, although The Dock of the Bay barely qualifies as "indoors". I love the place. It's a shame they're going to tear it down for condos at the end of the summer (at least that's the rumor).
Still getting back to the butts--I'm pretty sure yesterday I "fixed" and smoked the cig I broke a few days before, too. So fourteen, nine, one, and twenty, less two--that's forty-two butts for yesterday.
April 6, 2005
Four this morning. Sixteen, less one I broke, plus the fourteen equals twenty-nine cigarettes smoked yesterday.
I am smoking more today. Plus I just had a bunch of coffee and it's now after nine, so I'll probably be up for a while. That almost certainly means even more.
I'll just have to pace myself, although I am a craving fool at the moment. I did try the blend of pipe tobaccos. I think it may be pretty good, although the Nag Champa incense I have going in here kind of makes it hard to tell. Guess maybe incense and pipe smoking don't mix; at least not directly.
I should say, incense and *tobacco* pipe smoking, but that's all we're talking about, right?
That was my second pipe of the evening; the first was just as it was beginning to rain quite hard. I had just sat down on the porch to watch the rain, with my pipe and a mug of the "Throat Coat" tisane Glenn & Theresa gave me, when it really began to pour and blow. A few seconds later I was watching it from behind my screen door.
It's not really my screen door, though; I rent it. And it's not much of a door--a determined swallow could probably get through the gap at the top--to say nothing of a snake.
It's good for watching the rain from, though, and I'm happy enough to have it to use.
Well, enough of this blather. Now to go waste my time on something else.
April 5, 2005
Fourteen butts left this morning. I smoked thirty-two again yesterday.
Bought a pack of SuperValue "Regular Cavendish" for the pipe. Tried a bowl; It's not as flavorful as the black, but it's drier and burns more readily. I think I might like it. It might be interested blended with the black. I have just enough of that left I can probably give that a try tomorrow or so.
I'm a little grumpy tonight, so I think I'll cut everything short and try to hit the sack early.
April 4, 2005
Four cigarettes left this morning, and sixteen the previous morning. I smoked thirty-two yesterday, and twenty-one the day before.
I've only been filling the little pipe once or twice a day, for the most part. I finished the last of the black cavendish today. Maybe I'll snag a bag of something different tomorrow.
I found some really cool software for music, including a freeware multitracker that seems nothing short of awesome. I played with it for several hours last night, and it never once crashed or did anything bad. It's the Krystal Audio Engine, and I found it thanks to a forum belonging to minidisc.org.
I also found some cool drum software, including the Hammerhead Rhythm Station. I'm not so much into Techno/Hip Hop/Triphop, etc. (although you never know), but it can load different drum sets, including acoustic drums, which will mesh with some of the things I'm trying to do right now.
The real downer about all this, for me, is that all these are programs for MS-Windows. Every time I think I'm all set to jettison that--well, I gotta play with these things, at least until Linux audio comes along some more, or else I finally snag a Mac and GarageBand.
Nevertheless, I'm hoping soon to take a real swing at AudioSlack.
April 2, 2005
Today dawned with seventeen cigarettes unsmoked. Don't worry, I'm fixing that. Rather slowly, since smoking makes my headache flare up. Hmm, haven't tried the pipe yet today. Maybe soon I will.
We had ourselves a block party last night. Well--maybe "compound party" is more accurate, but it doesn't sound too good. I had much fun but ow, did I ever overdo it. Thus the aching head.
Considering how much I was drinking, I guess thirty-six butts isn't too horrible. Also I think I drank so much that I put myself out of commission pretty early. I probably should be dead. So I'm grateful that I'm not, and I think I want to leave the hangover-inducing behavior behind for a while. Hangovers suck.
Oh, yeah, the pipe is good. And it's definitely easier on my head. 
April 1, 2005
Thirteen cigarettes left this morning. Seven, twenty, and one make twenty-eight butts smoked yesterday.
The front room is now nearly de-junked. The kitchen, bedroom and bathroom are still horrible messes.
A terrible storm just finished sweeping through. Mostly it was just rain, rain and more rain--and also some more hail, which I heard but did not see this time, at one point--lasting for hours. It set in yesterday and lasted a good twenty-four hours, if not more. There was an apparent lightning strike which caused (from what I have heard; also the local TV station mentioned on their website) a fire underground downtown. Everyone south of Garden Street lost power.
The storm was amazing. Watching the radar on The Weather Underground (I love that site), the storm clouds seemed to just well up from the edge of the Gulf of Mexico, unrelenting, for hours. This morning (still, fortunately, having power, unlike about 10,000 Gulf Power customers, according to the TV station site), I checked the radar again, and it was sweeping from the west in a more normal front-like motion. I haven't noticed yet how much rain was dumped, but it was a lot.
It's pretty and sunny out there now. And it's April Fools' Day. But seriously, it is pretty and sunny. Anyway--tomorrow is Saturday, and Sunday begins good old Dalight Saving Time. So this weekend feels like a swing period to me.
I'd say the April showers got a little bit of a head start--and with gusto.
March 31, 2005
One cigarette left this morning, and five left yesterday morning. Nineteen and five, with no pack in between, make twenty-four cigarettes smoked yesterday.
Day before yesterday was not so good, since there was a pack in between. Fifteen, twenty and one makes thirty-six smoked that day.
I'd hung out with my music doctor neighbor for a while that evening, and often when I stay up late and have a bit to drink to boot, I seem to wind up over two packs, so even that may be progress.
I haven't been piping a whole lot, but at least once every day. For a while yesterday I was craving the taste of black Cavendish and couldn't find the pipe. I finally did, but it was odd to be craving the pipe and not a cigarette (at that moment--I still crave the squares most of the time). Not sure if that's good or bad.
March 30, 2005
Vincent Willem van Gogh - March 30, 1853 - July 29, 1890 +
Happy birthday.
March 29, 2005
I went to bed at twenty-three butts, around nine-thirty or so. I could not get to sleep, though. The night person in me is slowly reasserting himself, I think. It was probably about two in the morning before I crashed; at twenty-seven, I believe, for there was one cigarette left in the pack this morning.
I think my smoking count is up today, but I haven't just been sitting around smoking. I actually got quite a bit done. I've shifted all my "office" space to the other side of the, um, great room, and if I will just not clutter it all to hell as per usual then it might be pretty nifty. I even got out the drill motor (a miracle that I could find it) and a cross-point screwdriver bit (another miracle) (I think of these as "Phillips heads", but I believe that's not correct) and put up a bit of window trim that's been lying on the ground for months. In the process, I skinned up my shin by blundering into the outside water spigot, which just sprouts up out of the front yard on a stalk of PVC pipe. It's just one of the innumerable little charms of this place, like the funky wiring, the non-working oven (except for the broiler, kinda), the few outlets (and even fewer that work), the narrowness of this front room, and--I could go on, but the main thing is--I really like this place and I hope I can hang on to it.
It would be ironic if I quit my job so that (in part) I would have time to clean things up, so that I no longer live on top of a junk pile, only to lose the place because I can't afford the rent any more. But that's a risk I've chosen to take, and I guess it's okay either way, because I couldn't stand that state of affairs any more. So the fact that I'm actually making a little progress pleases me.
At any rate, I'll do what I can to hang on to the place. And if it doesn't work out, maybe it will be for the best in the long run.
March 28, 2005
I hope everyone had a good Easter weekend. Most of my friends were tied up with family, and as for my own family (which would be my parents), I had seen them on Thursday; plus the weather was iffy, so I stayed home. That is, for me, usually the basis of a pretty good day.
The day before, Saturday, we had a brief but impressive hailstorm. The hail was quite large; some of it appeared nearly golf-ball-size. I've got a few pieces up in my freezer. We don't get a lot of hail here, thankfully, and I've never seen it quite like that before.
Day before yesterday would have been the twenty-sixth, and I woke with one cigarette left in the pack. My newest neighbor came over for a while the night before (which would have been Friday, the night of the full moon) and I wound up staying up later than I might have otherwise. I'd been trying to get ReZound to compile on this Slackware system I have on my backup computer, and sure enough, I finally got it. It's pretty sweet. Not exactly Cool Edit or Soundforge, but it's definitely on its way, and it's a pleasure to work with. Hats off to Davy Durham. So after my neighbor left I played with it some more and it was probably about two in the morning before I sacked out.
I guess that means I smoked nineteen and twelve, or thirty-one cigarettes on Friday the twenty-fifth.
Yesterday I had four butts left. There was a pack in between, too. Sixteen, twenty and one is thirty-seven cigarettes smoked on the twenty-sixth. Bad me.
Today I had eight squares, and again there was a pack in between. That's 12+20+4=36 for Sunday.
March 25, 2005
Not much time left in the day, so I'll have to make this short. Twelve cigarettes were left this morning, making twenty-four smoked yesterday. I only filled the diminutive pipe once, I believe. I guess I could call that a decent day, smoking-wise.
I thought I might have another one today, but I couldn't get to sleep so here I sit. Maybe I won't go too overboard.
March 24, 2005
There were three cigarettes left in the pack yesterday morning, so that means I smoked twenty-four the day before. Yesterday I almost made it three days in a row, having gone to bed at twenty-four, but I couldn't get right to sleep. My boss had kindly treated me to dinner at Applebee's, and after that I wanted coffee. So I made a bit of French roast, even though it was around eight o'clock. Plus I was fussing with the scanner and just kind of keyed-up in general.
I finally managed to drop off around 2 AM. By then I'd smoked another three cigs, not too bad I suppose, considering the tobaccohoover I can be. (I write "butthoover" at first but I do not like that mental image.)
I filled my tiny pipe just once yesterday, and twice the day before. The tobacco is lasting pretty well. I also find there's times I kind of crave the taste. I don't know if that's good, but I suppose it's better than craving a cigarette instead (I still do plenty of that).
Sixteen were left this morning. Four plus a whole pack plus three make twenty-seven butts smoked yesterday.
March 22, 2005
Today there were seven. Yesterday, eleven. Day before yesterday I smoked twenty cigarettes, and yesterday, twenty-four. On neither day did I smoke my weight in pipe tobacco, so I'm fairly happy about all that.
I really have to stay on my case, though. Smoking is insidious. I have to stay aware, and I have to involve myself in other things. It's way too easy to just sit and smoke. For now, I want to finish up this entry, then maybe boot into Windows and finish up a couple of projects there. Next it's swapping out the computers to see if I can get this little scanner going in Windows 98. Plus, there's lotsa cleanin' to do. I can almost see my far wall. I just need to do something about the mountain of boxes in the corner.
March 20, 2005
Day before yesterday, I smoked up the fifteen, and that was all. I did smoke a few small pipefuls of black cavendish, but not really that many. So I had a pretty good day smoking-wise.
Yesterday was a completely different story. Since it was the official last day of winter, I decided to celebrate with a personal party. I had a really good day, grilled me a steak, and drank a whole 375ml bottle of Ancient Age and seven beers. I got to bed about five this morning, slept off and on for a few hours, then rehearsed. So I don't feel the greatest, but not too bad, all things considered. I'm not staying up much longer, though.
I had a lot of fun, too, goofing around on Usenet, and finding out about Extraordinary Machine by Fiona Apple. Links and explanation tomorrow or so, maybe; I'm just not up to it right now.
I'd discovered some of those Marlboro Seventy-Twos were BOGO at the drug store, so I bought a couple of packs. When I decided to have my little private party yesterday, I bought a couple of packs of Kings also. This morning I had eleven Seventy-Twos left; I'd smoked all of the other pack, and a pack of the Kings as well. So that's forty-nine cigarettes yesterday. Of course, that was drinking and staying up all hours, but I can't be doing that to myself too often. I was feeling better yesterday morning, but I kind of backed myself up a little bit with all of that.
So now spring is here, and it's time to get some things done. I'm going to start by trying to get a decent night's sleep.
March 18, 2005
Today there were fifteen cigarettes left in the pack. No pack in between; five and seventeen make twenty-two butts for yesterday.
I changed my plan. For one thing, I decided to get one of the small meerschaum pipes instead of a briar. More significantly, maybe, I went ahead and bought a pack of Marlboros too. My reasoning runs one of two ways, and probably neither one of these is the complete truth:
Way one is that I'm just too gutless and weak to be without cigarettes.
Way two is that abruptly changing from cigarettes to pipe is simply not going to work. The habits are too different, for a variety of reasons, and it's cigarette smoking that is ingrained in me, not just "addiction to tobacco". I've tried it before, and failed. Why go through that again? Not that it's necessary to throw out the whole idea. It's just that a slightly different approach might be helpful. Maybe I can, over time, drop the butts in favor of the pipe. Then again, it might just be better to quit fooling around with tobacco altogether. No, "fooling around" doesn't convey an accurate sense of things; it's a long, consuming affair deeply woven into my life. By me. Good job.
Anyway, there's more to the pipe thing than just trying to supplant cigarettes. I like pipes, and experimenting with the different kinds of tobacco. Speaking of which, I settled on a pouch of "Super Value" Black Cavendish; an ounce and a half for a buck ninety-nine. I recall a tobacconist at The Tinderbox in the mall, years and years ago when I was on one of my early pipe kicks, explaining the meerschaum pipe to me, how to smoke it, how it colors, and to handle it with care (or not at all). I'm pretty sure he said a tobacco with lots of Black Cavendish (he might have just said Cavendish, but I'm pretty sure it was the Black Cav) was good to color a meerschaum well.
This pipe was, like, seven dollars, so I'm not really trying to turn it into a pipe collector's dream. I don't suspect it will even last that long. But it sounded good to me, so I bought the tobacco, pipe, and some pipe cleaners. With the pack of Marlboros, it all came to $14.40 US.
Figure the cigs were a little over three bucks after tax (I seem to have neglected to get my receipt). I can get them for just under three at the drug store nearby. So, the pipe and accessories were a little less than the price of three packs of cigarettes. Even if I can cut my consumption of butts in half, the whole shebang will have paid for itself in three days. And I suspect the tobacco will last longer than that.
I made this purchase about four, maybe four-thirty in the afternoon. I had just run out of cigarettes at the time. By the time I went to bed, I had smoked two butts (and about five bowls of Black Cav; the pipe's bowl is pretty darn small, though. I'd say it's about a third to a quarter capacity of a "normal" pipe; on the other hand, pipes come in all shapes and sizes, so that's kind of meaningless). At bed time I had another cigarette, and I knew I'd smoked twenty for the day; just one pack's worth. But broke down a little and wound up having a couple more. And so it goes.
One more 'List related thought: I'm not even going to bother keeping track of how much "bowling" I do. Ahh, simplicity, I love it.
March 17, 2005
Last night before I went to bed was pretty normal; I chained two or three butts (how's that for a visual? I mean cigarettes, of course), went to bed, got up after about an hour and had one or two more. Seventeen were left in today's pack, so three and twenty and five make twenty-eight cigarettes smoked yesterday.
My plan for now is to buy a pipe and some tobacco, and not to buy any more cigarettes. It probably won't work, but here goes nothing. 
March 16, 2005
Five cigs left today. There was no pack in between; fifteen and sixteen make thirty-one butts inhaled yesterday.
I'm about to smoke number twenty-five for today. I feel bedtime creeping up, so maybe I'll keep it under a pack and a half today.
I've been wanting a tobacco pipe for a while. I've tried supplanting cigarettes with the pipe a time or two in the past, and it didn't work. But I think I'm going to try again. Yesterday, while my car was in the shop, I took a walk down to the drugstore (for cigarettes, naturally). I went opposite the direction I usually go, due to better sidewalks and less traffic. That brought me to the little tobacco shop I always forget about. It's closer than the drug store coming up from that direction. Some people might call it a cigarette store; but it also sells incense, chewing tobacco, and pipes and pipe tobacco, as well. They have some little meerschaum pipes which are only a few dollars, but I sort of have my eye on a straight briar, made in Italy (no Dr. Grabow with a filter); it's about fifteen bucks.
I decided not to buy it right then and there. I'm trying to resist impulse buying, especially now that my income has dwindled. But I just might go back tomorrow and buy it. Heck, maybe I'll even walk.
March 15, 2005
Today started off with sixteen cigarettes rattling around in the pack. Four plus three plus twenty makes twenty-seven cigarettes smoked yesterday.
I got a few things done today, like putting my car in the shop and trying to get the scanner Linda gave me going. It's pretty old, and uses the parallel port, which complicates things with SANE; thus it will be tricky for me to get going in Linux. It is reported to work, at least to some degree, but it may be one of those situations where it might not be worth the time and effort, even if I get it going.
It also doesn't agree with XP. It gets detected, and does the preview scan okay, but when it's time to do the final scan it dies horribly--and completely freezes the system in the process.
It might work under MS-Windows 98 on my other box. I may try that at some point, but for now it has to go into the "oh well" column. Too bad; I was really looking forward to having a scanner.
I finally gave up after the second time I had to cut power on the system (and after way too many reboots--the usual MS-Win-Lose), and since I was in MS-Windows anyway, I fired up Continuum (Subspace). I played for hours--now my vision is kind of fuzzy and my hand hurts. I think I finally got it out of my system for a while. I hope so; talk about a huge, non-productive use of time.
March 14, 2005
Three butts left this morning, and no pack in between, equals a total of twenty-five cigarettes smoked yesterday. It probably helped that I took about a three-hour nap, which was inadvertent. I could have done better, but I have this "one more, okay one more, now just one more" thing I do before I go to bed. I need to deal with that.
At least I went to bed early enough to beat the late-night eating bugbear. And I discovered something that made me very happy today. Despite eating a number of things over the past week that are not exactly the Dieter's Friends (pan pizza, Big Mac and fries, hot dogs, potato chips), I weighed less than I feared I would. I was afraid I'd be back over 240 pounds, but according to the scale at Winn-Dixie, I weigh 231.5. W00t!
Okay, for a guy who's probably not even 5' 8", I'm still far from svelte. In fact, I still feel like a big, fat tub of goo, and now to boot my clothes fit worse than ever. But I'm happy about it. By gum, I'll go out and buy some overalls and be Junior Samples, as long as I'm losing this lard.
I really shouldn't crow too much, though. I'm still only a few candy bars away from nowhere. Still, I guess it's okay to be happy. I informed my usual support group (some of them, anyway), and I'll bravely put it here. Maybe that will scare me, since I'd hate to have to admit to the whole Internet that I put it all back on.
March 13, 2005
The Turkish Golds weren't bad, but once those two packs were done, I went back to Marlboros. The addiction knows what it wants.
Eight cigarettes were left this morning, and so between those twelve Marlboros and the twenty-seven Camel TGs, yesterday I smoked thirty-nine butts.
March 12, 2005
Yesterday, I am pretty sure, there were ten cigarettes left in the pack. I smoked a total of forty-two the day before yesterday. When those were gone, I bought some Camel Turkish Golds that were BOGO. There were seven of those left this morning (well, twenty-seven; I am finishing up the last one from the first pack now).
The good thing is that there was no in-between pack, so I smoked twenty-three cigarettes yesterday. Hard to believe, but I'm fairly certain (for a change).
March 10, 2005
Twelve cigarettes left this morning makes thirty-six smoked yesterday.
I just got through watching Spider-Man 2. Yes, yes, I'm way behind the times. It was as good as everyone said it was, although Mr. Parker was just about to piss me off with all that "we can never be together" crap. Such a genius, but somehow he just couldn't see that MJ needs her Peter as much as the next girl.
I'm really gonna get it for that.
I had one of my best games of Subspace ever last night. It started out kind of rough, and I was lucky to go 10-10 (ten kills, ten deaths); but then I got on a roll and wound up 26-12 with a bounty of over 500. But a lot of that was luck. Usually you get two or three good bounty hunters on you way before that point.
Hm. Subspace sounds good. No, I shouldn't. Oh well. I do lots of things I shouldn't. Bai-bai for now.
March 9, 2005
Okay, I was wrong. It *does* matter that I wrote how many cigarettes were left yesterday, because otherwise knowing that I had eight left this morning wouldn't tell me much. So now I know I smoked fifty-five butts yesterday. Just kidding, just kidding. I smoked thirty-five. Doesn't sound so bad now, huh?
I'm thinking about reorganizing the Buttlist, and maybe admitting that yes, I do keep an online journal, and putting it somewhere else. Probably all I'll end up doing is killing all of it. As it is, I'm full of stuff to burble about, but I'm just kind of tired tonight. I'm going to go to bed.
But first, I can't resist a little Subspace. 
March 8, 2005
I wound up not going to bed until about 2 AM this morning, and although I didn't smoke a ton of cigarettes between the time I first hit the sack (before nine) and the time I actually fell asleep (over five hours later), I did smoke forty-one in all. That's counting the AM hours as part of the previous day, but that seems fair enough. That's the way we do things around heah (although it does annoy the heck out of some anal little part of me, but I guess that part of me deserves to be annoyed anyway). On the other hand, I'm still obsessive enough that I will mention there were three butts left in the pack this morning, even though I know it's not necessary. Hey, it's a Buttlist tradition. Or something.
I spent most of my day with my parents. They treated me to fried catfish (plus the obligatory hushpuppies and some excellent cheese grits), and all in all it has been a good day. Once again I got next to nothing done, but I'm pretty used to that by now.
My right hand kind of hurts, especially my pinky. I think it's the two or three hours I spent in Chaos Zone before I went to bed. I gotta quit that, really. It's a sickness, I tell you. Sure is fun though.
Anyway, this typing hurts so I gotta stop. Plus all this blabbering I do on the 'list is probably detrimental to my humble mission of just keeping track of my smoking. I have some more thoughts on the matter, but I'll save it for later, after my hands (hopefully) recover.
March 7, 2005
Almost didn't do this tonight, but I'm back in the saddle. This was kind of a 'lost weekend' as far as the Buttlist is concerned.
It rained pretty hard tonight for a couple of hours, and it would have been nice to go to sleep to. It ended a little too early, or I stayed up too late. I was in bed and comfy, noting that the rain had passed, when I heard what sounded like a jet. And it probably was. But I remembered Linda, who stayed in her house next door through Hurricane Ivan, said that the tornado she witnessed during all of that great fun 'sounded like a jet taking off', if I recall correctly. Hmm. Quiet, then this--I hopped out of bed (it was just before nine) and turned on the computer to check the Weather Underground. The storm has passed and it's clear as a bell. So here I am. While I was sitting here, there was another jet. (I hope that's a jet, I thought. It was, of course.)
I played at a club with the interesting name of "Banana Monkey" in Foley, Alabama on Saturday. I had the honor and great fun of working with Civilized Natives. It's a large band, thus things are kind of complex, and tend to take longer. But hey, I was in bed by six the next morning--plenty of time to get a few hours' sleep before rehearsing with Mama Lucky and the Three-Foot Rabbits--okay, that's not the official name, but it gets my vote. Or maybe Mama Lucky and Three-Foot Rabbit. I dunno, what do you think? Let's throw it open to a Web Poll ... the first one ever on HeadWreck.com!
After rehearsal, I was treated to pizza (it's a rough life), and then got home about eight PM. Ah, good. At last I could relax.
Or not. I'd noticed that my neighbor, Mike, who is a music instructor (and a PhD from the University of Maryland), had a few guests over. (I wrote "gusts" at first. But there wasn't that much hot air, really.) He invited me over to meet them, so I did, and got back about ten-thirty, and finally sacked out about midnight. All in all, I was pretty busy, tired or both for most of the weekend. That's my excuse for the listing lapse, if I need one, which of course I don't.
I guess.
Oh yeah. I had four cigarettes left this morning. I don't know if I even counted yesterday. For today, I'm up to number thirty-six at the moment.
March 4, 2005
Whoops. Forgot to count this morning, but I remembered in time to backtrack and see how many I'd smoked already. It appears that I had fourteen cigarettes (kings, this time) left in the pack.
The Seventy-Twos were a good price while they were BOGO, but yesterday I had already decided I wanted kings, dammit. Plus, while I was standing at the counter of the usual Circle K where I re-up, I didn't see any more of the paired-up shorties anyway. So I bought their "five pack special". I really really really need to quit but it looks like I'm not gonna any time soon.
One thing about the shorter Marlboros is that I really do seem to smoke more of them. Having more time where I can light up probably has something to do with it too. . . . Anyway, I went through a full pack of Seventy-Twos and a full pack of kings yesterday. Together with the three butts I started with and the six from the carryover pack, that's a big forty-nine smokes I inhaled yesterday.
March 3, 2005
Today I had three Marlboro Seventy-Twos left. I had three yesterday morning as well. So I know I smoked forty, and I guess that means I can pick back up with the Buttlist.
It's ten-thirty AM on a rainy Thursday. I need to go ahead and put this up because I'm planning to swap out the computers for a little while, and I want to waste my time on other things.
February 28, 2005
I've no idea how many cigarettes I smoked yesterday, but I'm sure it was plenty.
I don't think I'm going to worry about keeping track of today, either. I'm going to leave the Buttlist alone for a couple of days. Call it a pre-vacation vacation.
February 27, 2005
Okay, I've got a cheatsheet going. It's still not a physical scrap of paper, which I would just lose. It's a text file I've got squirreled away here in Mandrake 10, and as long as I'm booted here, and not, um, in one of the several other operating systems I've got kicking around, I can keep track of it. Of course, I'm usually always here. Maintaining the humble Buttlist is a lot easier when I'm working out of the same system. I am thinking about cleaning off some disk and installing Slackware 10.1, but currently I'm filling things up as quickly as I clean them out.
Anyway, I was pretty sure I smoked thirty-nine cigarettes yesterday, but I couldn't quite remember the leftover details. I bought some more of the Seventy-Twos, since they are a good price while they're BOGO, plus once in a while I want one. But I really want a King sometimes, too, so I bought a couple of packs of those yesterday, as well. I know it may seem silly, since there's so little different between the two kinds of butts, but it's these subtle differences that cigarette smoking is all about. No, really, coughing, wheezing, rattly lungs, a stinky stale smell in the car and house, burn holes in my favorite shirts and a stupid waste of money, those are what cigarette smoking seems to be all about. But think of the boost in self-esteem!
Oh yeah, my point. So I remembered my little scratch file, and sure enough, I made a note this morning. "18 kings left; 10 72s left." So that's twelve cigarettes I smoked out of those two packs, plus the seven I started with, which makes nineteen. And I know I smoked an entire pack of kings besides, so sure enough, I smoked thirty-nine cigarettes yesterday.
The Mama Lucky rehearsal didn't happen today, unfortunately, but I did make it to the gig and back fine. I met the new drummer, whose name is Chris, and it was a good gig. Not many people there, what with the weather being overcast and chilly, but fun, and easy money to be honest. My car seems to be leaking radiator fluid somewhere (did I write that already? I forget. Oh well), but I made sure to top it off right before I left, and it never was a problem. I was going to run it up to the mechanic's in the morning, but I may hold off for a day. Or a week. Or whatever. Not that I mean to be cavalier (although my car is a Cavalier). I'm grateful and happy. I'm just going to keep my eye on it for a day or two.
February 26, 2005
There were seven cigs left today, six kings and one shorty. That's forty-three I smoked yesterday, sixteen of them kings.
I stayed up kind of late, and slept a little bit later this morning than I meant to. I've felt more rested today though, and less stressed, and that's all good.
Tomorrow is rehearsal with Mama Lucky (and the Three-Foot Rabbits?), and then the Fort Walton Beach gig with the Mojo Kings. I'm told the gig is winding up, after several years; after Labor Day, they're closing the Dock o' the Bay, and putting in condos. Kinda sad.
My car is leaking radiator fluid, it seems, but I think it will be will be all right as long as I top it off before I leave. Of course, if this turns out to be the last entry in the Buttlist, maybe I was wrong.
February 25, 2005
Ten little 72mm squares were left this morning, meaning I smoked thirty-seven cigarettes yesterday.
I don't have much to say this evening, because my brain is tired. Plus it's late, and I think I'd like to get to bed soon, so that I don't sleep half the day away.
February 24, 2005
Seven cigarettes left again today. Yesterday I smoked forty butts; but thirteen of them were the new Marlboro Seventy-Twos, so I really only smoked--well, forty.
They are, indeed, 8mm shorter than the Marlboro (I just typed Markboro--I think I really am smoking too many of these things) Kings, and that's all tobacco. The filters are the same length, unlike the difference between Kings and 100s, where the extra length is, IIRC, mostly filter. Sure, it's kind of dumb to pay the same for less, only I didn't--they were buy one, get one free, or BOGO as we say in the biz. Well, a biz I used to be in. They are more like BOGUS, really, except I do seem to detect the slightest flavor difference. It's down to pulling the smoke through less tobacco, I think. I know one of the best parts of a cigarette (a king, at least) is the first few drags. Cut that satisfying part off, and you've got these. At least there's less to smoke, although it probably means one just ends up smoking more of them. Maybe the best thing is that they're easier to smuggle--er, carry around. Like someone named "david" posted at the lowculture.com link I stuck in up there: "A smaller pack is that much easier to fit into Junior's lunchbox. Like Lunchables, only... Smokeables?" Thanks, david, for being my Unwitting Guest of the Day.
February 23, 2005
This morning I had seven cigarettes left. I believe that would make forty-two butts smoked yesterday.
Today I found something that might make the Buttlist easier, and maybe even bring Headwreck.com a little fun. It's Drupal. It's a "content management platform". It says it can "support a variety of websites ranging from personal weblogs to large community-driven websites". So maybe it's something I could use so that I don't have to just plink out HTML every day. Then if there's ever a need, it could support more people than just me. That's probably never going to happen, but it's no fun dismissing the possibility. And if Drupal doesn't work out, maybe I can find something else along those lines. Or it may all turn out to be over my head, or too complicated. I will put it on the back burner. .::plink::.
I found it because of these vitamins I bought in the Dollar Tree (it's not a real tree). Fifteen pills for a buck. They are multivitamins, and you take one a day. But they are not One-A-Day®, although the label invites you to "Compare to One-A-Day® WeightSmart". Yes, they are vitamins for fatties. I mean, they don't say that, but it's implied.
The label boasts of containing EGCG. With my great detective mind, I reasoned out that as these vitamins are marketed to, erm, the weight-conscious, this EGCG must have something to do with it.
I knew (once I'd read the label if not before) that this is extracted from green tea, but I was curious so I asked the Google-oracle. I wound up at this drumlib.com page on Green Tea and Thermogenesis. Interesting, and kind of over my head in places, but he seems to be quoting from a lot of studies. I don't get that I'm-in-a-room-with-a-slimey-huckster I do in a lot of these places. I mean, these pages I look at, although I guess I do "enter" them in a way; at least my attention is in there, or one of its frayed ends.
After chewing on that for a while, I went to The DrumLib Home Page. DrumLib refers to himself as a "Drummer & Libertarian". I knew (still know, I guess, though I haven't seen or talked to him in a while) someone just like that, and so I had to check for a picture. Different guy, plus Vic wasn't hard into medical research and science like this cat.
I haven't really explored the site, so this isn't really any kind of recommendation, at least not yet; but I did see the mention of and link to Drupal, which got me thinking I might like to play with something like that. Anyway, it's funny how things lead to other things. I bought vitamins which led me to this thing called Drupal, and to get there I traveled through a land of EGCG and assorted vegetable soup, mysterious studies, drummers and libertarians.
Hmm. Anybody want to buy a TV?
February 22, 2005
Nine nails were left in the box this morning. That's thirty-five cigarettes smoked yesterday.
I got a few things done today, nothing huge, but dishes and trash and a load to the laundromat. While the clothes wash, I enjoy nosing around in the couple of dollar stores that live at the shopping center. I also take the opportunity to get in some walking.
It's not like I'm Captain Health. Here I was, leaning against the brick wall outside of the laundromat, smoking a cigarette. Down the sidewalk along Creighton Road comes a pack of young men. There's nothing threatening about them. They're all maybe twenties and teens, but not as homogenous as a peer group. They are all uniformly bare-chested and wearing shorts (short pants--I know for some people "shorts" are what I call "underwear"--anyway, I digress). They're jogging, in a well-ordered pack. Their hair is neat and well-cut, but they don't look military. Hmm. Who are these strange folk?
As their run--they weren't joggers, they were some sort of marathoners, probably--brought them even with the corner of the building, I was tempted to call out "You shame me. All of you." Big fat me with my cigarette. I didn't, of course. Why make a fool of myself like that when I can just do it this way?
After they'd run along, I thought about their odd uniformity. (I'd have to call it a healthy uniformity, where often I tend to find it apalling.) Their shorts, that was it. They weren't the flowing, long baggy shorts you see now (or has that passed already?), nor were they the tiny little shorts back in the day of Dr. J. No, these were moderate shorts, the shorts of serious runners, I guess. No big deal, I suppose I'm just surprised that I noticed. Only, the last time I noticed, NBA players were wearing pretty baggy shorts. Aren't they serious athletes? Then again, I haven't seen a second of basketball since last year's NBA Finals. And to be honest I don't know if their pants were as baggy as that one time I did notice, however many years ago that's been. I just really do not notice men's pants that much. But I did today. Heh. My first full weekday off work and I already have too much time on my hands. Anyway, it's too late to be thinking all these deep thoughts about pants already so I'm givin' up now.
This evening I've been on a strange trail--or a series of strange trails. Somehow, -- I was going to write "I can't remember how", but I do remember. I typed "wrong turn" into the Google search box in Firefox.
I wound up at the page for Wrong Turn at The Internet Movie Database. I even remember that it was the second Google link; the first was to www.wrongturnmovie.com or so. I like the IMDb, and more now than ever. The movie doesn't sound too great, but some of the comments were hilarious--and interesting. I got lost in this thread for a long time. Besides the discourse on hillbillys, inbreeding, and cannibalism, there were appearances by Sawney Bean (and I was believing this for about twenty minutes; see this page as a partial antidote), Mothman, The Melungeons, and An Entire Haunted Town (well, not really) complete with a haunted college. (This I find especially creepy.)
As for why I searched through Google for "wrong turn", I'll leave that for another day. I need to go to bed soon, before I eat everything in the house.
February 21, 2005
You know, I started to go to bed last night after thirty-five cigarettes. I really did. But then I said to myself, "Hey, I don't have to get up early tomorrow", and I had some more scotch. Four smokes later, I'm in bed. But--I really didn't have to get up early. And--it hit me again--I'd made it there and back again, by golly, and it was a great show. Why was I not celebrating? And so the party was on.
I finally retired after finishing the bottle of The Dalmore that I bought just over a week ago, and having smoked forty-five butts.
Now for the usual note-to-self: four left in the pack this morning.
Okay. It's time to rest the brain for a while.
February 20, 2005
I'm not going to have much to say tonight, because I'm kind of spaced out from driving to Atlanta yesterday and back to Pensacola today. I also didn't get much sleep. But I'm happy to report that I made the show and it was great. Visqueen kicked off the show, and they knocked me out. Lots of high-energy sans high-stupidity. What's not to love? Then the Sadies came and did a set--quite a change of pace from Visqueen (in energy, not lack of stupidity)--and they returned to back the one, the only Neko Case. They did so rock, all of them.
I also learned that her name is NEE-ko, not NECK-o, unless the musicians who have been around her for at least weeks (Visqueen) and maybe years (the Sadies) are completely brain-dead, or hatching a complex plot at my expense. Hey, it could happen. Anyway, the pronunciation is at variance with the "correct" Japanese spelling of the word that means "cat", as far as I know. Let's hear it for Anglification! Anyway, "Neko" with the long `e' sounds better to my ears, so that's a relief for me, not that it matters what I think.
I got to talk to Rachel and Ronnie of Visqueen, briefly. I'm sure I came across as a complete boob, but hey, I do believe in truth in advertising. As far as the boob thing goes, I got a little more in touch with my inner boob on this trip. Or maybe I'll find out that it's just my outer boob. I don't know. I'll leave the boob alone for now.
In fact, much as I'd like to write about what happened while it's still fresh in my mind (cue laugh track: nothing stays fresh in my mind much over, say, twenty seconds), I just can't get into it now. I'll save it for when I've had a few days' distance and perspective, and I have a little more time. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Oh yeah. This is a buttlist. I do have something relevant to report: yesterday I started the day with eleven cigarettes and had smoked thirty-seven the day before. Today, I started with nine, so I smoked forty-two. Not good, but keep in mind I was on the road by myself for, like, six hours, and I tend to smoke a lot in that scenario. Also, I didn't go to bed until about three-thirty in the morning, Eastern time. On the other hand, I did spend over four hours in the Variety Playhouse, unable to smoke. It was tough, but absolutely worth it. Besides, standing on the cement floor the entire time kind of took my mind off smoking a little bit.
I am going to think about breaking out all the rambling I do to somewhere else and leave the Buttlist for buttlisting. We'll see. Goodnight now.
February 17, 2005: Buttus Interruptus
Teh Buttlist is going on hiatus. BBL, maybe.
February 15, 2005
This is going to be tedious, but I'm just in that kind of mood. Today there were sixteen butts left. Someone kindly gave me seven cigarettes, six Marlboro Lights and one regular, full-strength, from-the-red-pack filter king. I smoked all but one of the lights, which I returned today. Hmm. Now that I think about it, there might have been seven lights. Okay, I'll err on the side of more. So that's six lights and one reg, plus the six I started with. Those plus four out of the carryover pack make seventeen. And, of course, I smoked another entire pack in addition to all of those, for (once again) thirty-seven smoked yesterday.
Tonight, after many days of waiting, I discovered that the fansubbers over at Soldats had released not only episode 39 of Monster, but 40 as well. I just watched 39, and I plan on relaunching BitTorrent to grab 40 when I'm done here. It's a great story. I'm loving it.
I wrote some other stuff, but I've chickened out and striken it. Partly that's because it referred to someone else and I wasn't sure how much I should blather on about that someone else without checking with that someone else first. Partly it's, well, superstition I guess. And partly it's because it was making me hesitate to publish this page, and it's going to be midnight before I hit the sack as it is. Okay, there are even more reasons, but if I go into them any further it will defeat the purpose of striking it all in the first place. Too bad, too, it was over an hour's worth of writing (which means agonizing and editing, mostly).
Like I said, tedious.
It's funny. Earlier today I thought of this as "the blog that no one reads", only I'm sure that name must be taken (although I haven't exactly checked). Except that's not right: it is read, and that affects what I write. I know there's an audience, and it changes things. But I guess that's okay. Why in the world would I post something to the Web every day (or nearly so) with zero expectation of it being read? (It was kind of cool, though. Maybe I'll start another readerless project. Who knows.) (And of course, this isn't exactly a blog, or at least it's only a most rudimentary one.)
Of course, as names go, it isn't like "Buttlist" is that original. I guess checking a search engine (I'm trying like mad to avoid the 'G' word for once) for "buttlist" would reveal mostly porn and various fratboy delights. I dunno, 'cause I haven't tried it. Well, maybe one time, but I didn't take a head count--or a buttcount. I have looked up "headwreck", and sure enough, it's a fairly common term, only not where I'm from. More on that in an upcoming ramble, perhaps.
So far I've only skipped one day since I started this, but I'm likely to miss a few soon. We'll see.
February 14, 2005
Six cigarettes were left over today, making thirty-seven smoked yesterday. I was home almost all day (it was Sunday), and I went to bed kind of late to boot, so I'm a little surprised it's not more.
I'm hurrying through lunch right now, and then it's off to Mom and Dad's after work; today's Dad's birthday.
Happy Valentine's Day!
February 13, 2005
Three butts left today, and without going into all the higher mathematics, I smoked forty-two cigarettes yesterday. No big surprise, really: I sat up for a while with a bottle of single-malt Scotch, but I never got the buzz I was looking for. (I didn't have the hangover I probably deserved, either, so I'm not complaining.) Linda says it's a mindset thing. I think she's probably right.
Today was a nice, quite day of doing much of nothing. I washed at least three loads of dishes. How can one person dirty so many dishes so quickly? But they're all clean, for a change.
The Grammys were tonight, but I didn't watch 'em. I never even turned on the TV at all. I rarely do anymore. It doesn't get very good reception, and the computer is just so much more interesting to me. I guess I'm not exactly a couch potato (especially since my "couch", a love seat that Linda gave me, mostly just serves to hold clutter), but I'm still definitely a `tuber'. Sorry for that.
February 12, 2005
Today began with five cigarettes in the pack. Fifteen, an entire pack, and three would make thirty-eight--but five were given away, making thirty-three the buttcount for yesterday.
We had rehearsal today; at least, Linda, Glenn and I did. I dunno where J.D. was. Hopefully he's okay. Progress is slow, and I'm not completely surprised.
I do believe things will turn out well, although I don't think it will be the simple, linear process we might envision. It seems to me that things rarely are. One can never account for the Flying Elvises, because, of course, they cannot be anticipated. (I'll try to explain the Flying Elvises later. I'm a little too drunk and sleepy to have much endurance right now.)
My main thing is that there are some issues in my life which I feel that I need to get a handle on before I can really put my full weight behind much of anything. I hope I have the opportunity in the next month or two to do that. I simply must make it my priority. If I don't have my own ship in order, I can't be of much use to anyone else. These things have been weighing on me for years, and I've got to deal with them, one way or another.
The flip side of it all is that if I do manage to put my full weight behind something, it could be very good and exciting. I would like that. I have to set my own agenda for myself, though. I think part of the problem, maybe the root of it, is that I'm too often guilty of not doing that.
I suppose this is all rather mysterious and oblique, but that's okay; it's about all I'm capable of right now. Maybe I'll revisit this later--or maybe I'll just delete it all. One can never tell about the headwrecked; they're a bit like the Flying Elvises in that way.
February 11, 2005
This morning there were three butts rattling around in the box. Seventeen from that pack and the eight leftovers from the day before--and no pack in between--makes twenty-five cigarettes smoked yesterday. I won't do quite as well today, but I'll 'fess up all that tomorrow.
This evening I went up to the Farmer's Opry with Ma and Pa and saw Bill Anderson. Yee-haa! It was fun, though. He's quite an entertainer, and a bona-fide member of the Country Music Hall of Fame, don'tcha know.
He had a talented, eye-catching young woman by the name of Kenzi fiddling and singing. (She goes by only the one name; as Mr. Anderson explained, her folks were "po' folks" and they couldn't afford but one name for her. Which reminds me; his band is, incidentally, the "Po' Folks Band", IIRC.) Expect her to be a big deal one day soon. And remember, you read it here--well, if not first, then very early on.
His band is quite good. I don't remember any names, but his guitarist has been with him twenty-four years, and his bass player fifteen.
And now I must finish up and hit the sack, because it's already almost tomorrow.
February 10, 2005
It was one of those nights: just one more--and one more--and one more (okay, that's most of my nights). There were eight cigarettes left in the pack when I finally went to sleep. Twelve, twenty and one make thirty-three butts for yesterday.
The motel room has been reserved for the show. Less than nine days now. I guess I need to line up a rental car next. Fun can be expensive; but this is more than fun. This is like--air, almost. It's essential.
February 9, 2005
One lone cigarette was left in the pack this morning. Its nineteen sibs, a complete pack before that, and the eleven leftovers from the day before ... no, wait, there was no complete pack. Whew. Nineteen and eleven, that was all, for a total of thirty cigarettes smoked yesterday.
I don't really have much else to say this evening. Hmm, I had some asparagus with dinner. That was nice.
February 8, 2005
Today began with a pack of eleven. Of the full pack which kicked off yesterday, one cigarette seems to have suffered an unfortunate accident, as it sported a large rip in the paper up near the filter, and was discarded unsmoked. Nineteen and nine, with no pack in-between, makes twenty-eight cigarettes smoked yesterday.
What else is boring? Well, I just put new strings on my guitar. They are Ernie Ball Regular Slinky, what I think of as "tens" (or maybe sometimes "10s"). This, for those who don't know, refers to the gauge of the high E string. The strings they are replacing were the original strings from the factory (or the store, for all I know), and felt to me like nines (9s).
This may be strange reading, but for anyone who might happen to read this (though I can't fathom the motive), I'm really only writing this list for myself. I guess. For the most part. Well, who knows? Anyway, what I mean to say is that I think, maybe, sometimes I have an odd sense of humor, especially with regard to how my mind works; or doesn't work, as the case may be.
It's a new moon as of a few hours ago, and Chinese New Year, to boot. It makes me think of new beginnings. I seem to always look at new moons that way, and this one is especially auspicious.
To what extent, though, is that true, really? How can it be more than mere coincidence? Of course, it can't be called that, exactly, because it is the second new moon of winter which calls in the New Year for the Chinese, if I understand correctly (I read it on some webpage today; surely it must be so [EDIT: the whole truth is always a little more complicated, it seems, but Wikipedia seems to have a good entry]). But other than the fact that this is a significant time for a whole lot of people, is there anything which makes this time "encouraging, favorable, favourable, lucky," or "prosperous"?
It's times like these I'm always off to babble something about "synchronicity", but this certainly isn't synchronistic; it's no accident that the two events are occuring at the same time. It's always on this particular moon, that's all. Only, if anything's synchronous, it may be that there are some new things afoot, some changes, some possibilities; and maybe a time like this serves as a reason, a tool, a frame of reference to focus on such things--to throw them into relief; to highlight their significance.
If time and chance provide pegs upon which we can hang meaning, then what good does it do us to say "ah, these are only coincidences" and dismiss them? Do we not miss the opportunity to make very real magic?
Or maybe I'm just nuts.
February 7, 2005
Today started with a brand-new pack of Marlboros. Yesterday's sixteen leftovers and an entire pack makes thirty-six butts smoked yesterday. Rehearsal at Linda's and being at my parents' house for the Super Bowl helped slow me down a little, if I can really call that slow. On the other hand, I stayed up a bit later than usual, because. . . .
I got Linda's page for her Barricades album uploaded last night, and tweaked out this evening. Well, inasmuch as Web tweaking (or tweaking in general) is ever "finished". The plan is for it to only be here a little while, until it finds a home of its own; but even though it severely threatens the great underutilisation that is one of the hallmarks of HeadWreck, I'm happy to offer her page a guest room since her old host stopped offering free space. This is better, anyway (not being free, I guess it should be). Speaking of which, if you'd like to donate... just kidding. For now, at least. Heh.
February 6, 2005
Sixteen cigarettes left this morning and a pack in between makes thirty-nine smoked yesterday. I gotta slow down on the weekends. I need to be more active and some junk.
It's late and I'm sleepy. The Superbowl was good, though. I enjoyed the half time show for a change, too. Sir Paul McCartney doesn't fool around, he just does his thing, and I happen to like it. This was the first time I can remember that the half time wasn't an extravaganza that tried too hard.
February 5, 2005
Fifteen were left this morning, and yesterday I gave two away. Six leftovers, eighteen from the intermediate pack, and five from the carryover makes twenty-nine cigarettes smoked yesterday.
Hanging out at the hospital for much of the day helped me in a couple of ways: I had to take a hike just to get a smoke, and all in all I did a bit more walking and a bit less smoking than I would have otherwise. The downside to yesterday, healthwise, was that I ate more fat and bread than I probably should have.
February 4, 2005
This morning there were six left, and no pack in between. Yesterday's grand total is thus thirty-two. I had thoughts about holding it at thirty, but as I did on the First, I caved. At least I'm closer to the pack-and-a-half level lately than I have been; it's still way too much, though, of course, and it's way too easy to get right back up in the two pack territory. I'm just going to try to keep it around a pack and a half a day, and then maybe I can ease my way down to a pack. Maybe this is all just rationalization, though. Instead of quitting, I'm "cutting down". Smoker-lies-to-self has certainly got to be a key feature of the addiction.
In other news, Dad came through his surgery just fine. I got home from the hospital roughly half an hour ago. I also talked to my boss (not the boss in the Breeze) briefly today. He's still recovering but he seems to be on the mend as well. Needless to say, I'm happy about all that.
February 3, 2005
Eighteen butts remained this morning. Two plus twenty plus eight makes thirty cigarettes smoked yesterday.
All in all, today was not a bad day. One good thing in particular: For several years, I've worked for a man who is in his seventies, and he had an operation today, to have a defibrillator implanted; I found out it went well. One down, one to go: Dad has an operation tomorrow.
February 2, 2005
Eight cigarettes left this morning means I smoked thirty-four yesterday, since there was an in-between pack this time. Yes, I'm sure. Pretty sure, anyway.
I put in my notice with my job in the Breeze today. At least, I emailed it to the boss. This is about the third time I've offered to quit, and I've totally lost count (big surprise) of how many more times I've written out my notice but not delivered it.
I wonder why this job is so hard to quit? Seems to me if I had a business and an employee indicated he didn't want to be there, I'd be sure to tell him not to let the door hit him on the butt on the way out. But what do I know? I'm just a headwrecked buttlister.
Now if I can just put down these potato chips. Evil things! Why did I buy them?
February 1, 2005
I think it must be that I just can't believe I'm smoking less than a pack-and-a-half the last few days. But sure enough, it looks like I smoked twenty-six again yesterday. There were two butts left this morning, and I'm pretty sure there was no pack in between. There was the big cigar I got from Dave. That was a special event, and I don't usually smoke those.
I do think I'd like to try the pipe again, but it's really no substitute for the cigarette addiction, and it's expensive. At least, it can be. And it's still messy and, well, stupid.
Now that it's February, I'm going to try to keep closer track of things. Actually, I'm amazed that I've managed to keep this up for so long (and having just skipped one day).
I woke up on time, but I've been feeling pretty tired, and my sinuses were bothering me again. I just felt like crap overall, so I called in and went back to bed until almost eleven. I feel a bit better now, though I haven't gotten a hell of a lot done. I don't much care; it's nice to be able to just relax.
One more thing: in honor of the new month, there's now an email address just for the buttlist: buttlist AT headwreck DOT com. You'll have to figure it out for yourself from that; phooey on the spambots.
January 31, 2005
And I've done it again. Two days in a row. Am I losing my mind? I must be.
I went to bed feeling that I'd done better, so it must be that, with eight cigarettes left in the pack, I only smoked twenty-six yesterday. I went to bed quite early. There's no way I smoked forty-six--is there?
It's really sad. I honestly don't know. I probably did a few hours ago, but my brain is very tired--quite possibly, it's not getting enough oxygen. It's always hard for me to tell what with the shadows, but I'm pretty sure those dark circles I see under my eyes in the medicine cabinet mirror are real. I look like a fucking raccoon.
My chest is pretty tight, too. Not dial-911 tight, nothing like that, just unhealthy tight. The great big Macanudo cigar I smoked this evening probably didn't help that. But after all the comments I made to Dave about "my cigar" (that obligatory gesture from the new dad), I guess I had it coming.
What the hell. I don't remember an intermediate pack yesterday, so I'll make twenty-six the official number. It just seems to me that I was thinking thirty-something last night... shit, this is really sad.
Guess it's time for that whiteboard, or something.
January 30, 2005
Yesterday was a long day. I got up fairly early, worked a few hours, played a party in FWB with the Garrett Brothers, and then hung out with Mike next door drinking vodka and watching a funky old movie about Nazi generals in WWII. Got to bed at 4 AM. Today I have a well-deserved headache. Oh, and I smoked 48 cigarettes. There were fourteen in my open pack this morning, and I'm pretty sure I went through two other packs, as well as the two cigs I started with, of course. To be honest, I'm not totally sure I went through two packs, but taking inventory, that seems right (I bought a carton yesterday morning, but did I have a pack in the glove compartment or didn't I?). I really doubt I only smoked 28 butts yesterday, so I hereby declare 48 to be the offical count. It's pathetic that I don't know for sure, but not at all surprising to me.
Eh. Something is making Vim or Konsole or something really lag. Yuck. I need to replace that taskbar shortcut for Konsole with one for rxvt, but I am so damn lazy. And the KDE menu editor annoys me. I should probably switch over to Fluxbox, like I usually do, but I am so damn lazy. And redundant. Besides, I hope to upgrade to a newer distro soon--yep, you guessed it. Lazy. And disorganized. And self-impeded; I've got so much mess on my disks to sort out. I never will, of course, I'll dump it en masse to CD or DVD or something at some point, or maybe just do nothing until the next horrible disk crash--hell, who knows? I might never wake up tomorrow. There, looking on the bright side always makes me feel better.
Anyway, I've got correspondence and bills to get ready for the mail, assuming tomorrow does come. So that's all for today's fine Buttlist entry.
Oh, except for one more thing: I watched Sky Captain today over at Linda's. That was fun. And I ate too much pizza. The tummy ache balances out the headache quite nicely.
January 29, 2005
There were two cigarettes left in the pack this morning. There was no in-between pack yesterday. Sixteen plus eighteen equals thirty-four cigarettes for yesterday's total. Not as bad as it might have been, I guess. I went to bed earlier than the night before; on the other hand, I smoked more frequently while I was awake. I think I do smoke more on split days than when I'm in the Breeze all day.
Since this is the Buttlist, and even though I do go as off-topic as I want when I want, it occurs to me that it might be appropriate to keep track of more than one kind of butt. Not to gross anyone out (but who reads this, anyway?), but I'm referring to my real, actual butt. My big, fat butt--but not as big and fat as it once was. I've still a long way to go, but...
I weighed myself again this morning, down at the grocery store. I did it the same way as two weeks ago; before breakfast, in shoes. I weighed 235, maybe just a hair under. That's pounds, not kilograms, you wiseacres. Anyway, last time it was 238 (or maybe 236--anyone who might read this page from the bottom up would have realized already that I dun' remember numbers too good. I was thinking 236 this morning--but having read my 'list entry from two weeks ago, that "under 240" makes me think it wasn't too much under 240). So maybe I'll start tracking that, too. That gives me an excuse to make a table! Whee, what fun.
Along those lines, I've been thinking about moving the recap to the top and putting all the rambling below. Too much work for now, though. I've got tea to drink and stuff. Really, these important decisions must be made with great care, and put off as long as possible, am I right?
Oh yeah, the "happy discovery" I referred to last night. Well... I just wrote about five paragraphs on that, then majorly fat-fingered and lost all but two of them. I'd really gotten carried away anyway, as I tend to do. I was already thinking about just writing up a separate page on it, and linking to it from here. I may do that, but just to not be a total meanie, I will mention it briefly (if I can). Last month, I discovered, quite by accident, a Japanese animated TV show called Monster being subtitled into English and released onto the net. I'd seen the first 35 episodes and was (and am) quite hooked. Sadly, for me, the releases had stalled; but night before last, I discovered that a different group had released episodes 36 and 37. (And the next day, ironically, the original group issued their release of 36.)
I'm not much of an anime fan, really, and I'm only starting to scratch the surface of how huge this fansubbing thing is. I've found a couple of links, but I don't know how good they are; there's lots more I'd like to say, but I'll save it for the other page (if I ever write it; doubtful, to be honest). Anyway, Gentle Reader, if you do exist, should you be interested in knowing more about fansubbing, there is always Google.
Okay, okay; this link looks pretty good. And I feel compelled to add this: based on what I've read so far, I feel okay about downloading and watching Monster. It's not something I could buy, at least in English, as far as I know; and I'd never have even known about it without the fan translators. If this ever does come out in English officially, I'll probably buy it if I can. And that's enough from my tortured conscience for now.
Whew.
January 28, 2005
Sixteen butts left this morning means I huffed down thirty-three cigarettes yesterday. I might have done much better, but I made a happy discovery last night and wound up not going to bed until after midnight. It's no big deal, but I'm pretty tired now, so I'm going to try to sack out soon. That means I'll have to put off revealing just what the "happy discovery" is until tomorrow. Or some time. Maybe. Who knows?
January 27, 2005
Nine cigarettes were left in the pack this morning. This time there was a middle pack, so it seems I smoked thirty-eight yesterday. Today was very busy, but not too horrible. Tomorrow is supposed to be a split day, but I don't know how much I'll be able to work at the second job (where I get a much better rate). I hope I remember to stop by the accountant's and pick up the tax papers. At least tomorrow is payday. That's always nice.
January 26, 2005
Seven left this morning. Sounds bad, no? Well, no. At least, not as bad as usual. There was no intermediate pack, so I actually smoked twenty-nine cigarettes yesterday. I was in bed after twenty-five, in fact, but I had kind of a bad night. Smoking late at night, like eating late at night, is one of my bugbears, although I seem to be doing better on the latter issue lately. I probably shouldn't have written that, though. I've probably jinxed it.
Come to think of it, most would probably say that smoking any time is one of my bugbears. I wouldn't argue.
My right hand hurts a bit. Too much mousing at work, I think. I'm going to rest it some, so that's all the Buttlisting for tonight.
January 25, 2005
Sixteen left this morning, so only (only, heh) 32 cigarettes did I smoke yesterday. I was very busy and crashed early, probably good things to strive for most days.
The very busy part doesn't require striving to achieve right now, though. The striving is in keeping up. I did okay today, I think, but who knows what fallout there will be tomorrow. I have that sense of slipping further and further behind. If Melissa and I can stay healthy and show up every day, though, we just might make it through. I'm just going to try to relax and let it come to me. The smoking and the stress are working on me, though.
January 24, 2005
I knew I'd miss a day sooner or later, and so I did. Funny that it was on Sunday, when I had basically all day. I thought about it early on, but--well, everybody needs a break now and then.
I'm not going to have much of a break for the rest of the week, I don't think. Dave will be out all week and I have two gigs this weekend. What I really need is a few days off--and a nice bender.
I'm pretty sure I had nine left in the pack yesterday morning, which makes forty-three smoked Saturday. This morning, there were eight, so that's forty-one for yesterday. It's hard to believe I'm only on thirty-one right now, with bedtime looming. Well, we'll see.
My computer's been acting up, and I thought I was going to stress out completely at one point today. I just hope I can get through this week without totally unravelling.
There's not going to be much time for OT this week, I don't think. Time to shut up and put it up.
January 22, 2005
Working backwards, I know I smoked 44 cigarettes yesterday, so there must have been 12 left in the pack. Yeah, that sounds right . . . Sheesh, this is ridiculous. I guess I'm going to have to start writing it down every morning--but, but the whole point of this was not to have to write it down on, like, actual paper--maybe I'll get a freaking whiteboard. Sure. Anyway, I've obliterated the two-pack limit tonight as well. And I'm likely to tomorrow--man, I really don't hate my lungs, but they surely must hate me.
And what's with the way sometimes I write out numbers, even long ones, and other times I use numerals? At one point I'd decided I'd always write them out, and save the numerals for the actual list--the recap--but then just now I felt that I really wanted to write '44', not 'forty-four', and then writing 'twelve' instead of '12' after that seemed retarded. I really do go through stuff like this all the time. This, dear reader, is the sort of reason that I chose the domain 'headwreck'. It just absolutely fits me.
By the way, I never did mention that Dave's son Mason was born just before 11:00 PM on the 20th. Or should I say 'the Twentieth'? And should I not capitalize that? I'm supposed to know all this stuff, dammit . . .
January 21, 2005
I had a little better night last night; no adventures, evil dogs or tooth cracking. Sixteen cigarettes left this morning, for a total of thirty-five smoked yesterday.
Went with Linda over to Glenn and Teresa's for a while this evening. That was fun. Rehearsal tomorrow, unless work intervenes. Maybe afterward I'll be able to go over to Mom and Dad's and fetch my guitar.
January 20, 2005
Last night was fun. Where to begin? I was looking for something. I have a friend in prison, and he'd sent me some coupons so I could send him some money. This was right before Hurricane Ivan, and in the shuffle I lost them. Later he sent me another. I, uh, lost that one too. I am the king of organization, after all. The thing is, I feel guilty about not having sent him anything in quite a while. I sent him some a few times while he was in jail, but since he made the move to the big house, nada. It causes me to not send him letters, which sucks. So last night I tore through some boxes, looking for one of those damn coupons.
I didn't find one, but what I did do, apparently, was stir up a ton of dust. I went to bed around 10:30-11:00, having smoked only 32-33 squares. But sometime after one AM, I was up, with my nose running like crazy. I felt lousy. I couldn't get back to sleep, and after the sacrifice of about a half-dozen tissues, I went to Walgreens and bought some diphenhydramine. I should always have some on hand, but I'm a cheap-ass. That'll show me.
I was also really hungry, since I hadn't eaten much before I went to bed. I had a craving for some almonds, and I have some of the natural (unroasted, unsalted) ones on hand, so I grabbed a few. I popped one in my mouth and bit down on it. I shouldn't have used the left side of my mouth--the almond resisted, and my lower molar really hurt. I killed the little bastard on the other side, had a few more, and later got a Whataburger Junior on the way back from the drug store. Then I called work and informed them that I'd be a bit late in the morning (good old voice mail) and hit the sack. This was around four AM.
This morning I dragged my butt out of bed a few minutes before eight and did my usual thing: start coffee, get a shower, get dressed. I grabbed a quick bowl of the Winn-Dixie version of Cheerios. I took a bite and chomped down on something hard. WTF? A rock in my cereal? Nope, a chunk of my molar. No pain, fortunately. I guess the dentist is in my future, along with a cash extraction, which is the part that really sucks.
I call work and let them know that I'm on my way; I get there right at ten and see that Dave's van is not there. Well, he did have a wreck yesterday, so maybe his wife has their other van. But instead, it turns out that Dave was there, only he'd gotten the call. His wife was, maybe, in labor.
So it was a real fun day, because with Dave gone, there's lots of extra work; and with yesterday's wreck at the foot of the Three Mile Bridge going into Gulf Breeze, which made everybody late (except the boss, who comes from the other direction), then Dave's wreck the same morning, we and especially he were already behind. I was dragging, with a broken tooth, plowing through a bunch of shit I've already had a gutful of plus another pile I don't understand too well.
But I'm alive, and basically healthy, and I got through it okay. And I get to bore the hordes of people who read the Buttlist. A joke, of course. Nobody even knows it's here, except Dave, and he doesn't know the URL himself. Besides, hopefully he has a newborn son now, and has much more important things to care about.
And maybe it means I can shake that job loose soon.
Oh... as best as I can recall, I had eleven cigarettes left this morning. That makes forty I smoked yesterday.
January 19, 2005
There's gonna be a lot of OT here, but I don't care, it's my Buttlist, and I'm feeling OT. So last night I took a couple of Darvosets and drank a bottle of Boone's Farm Blue Hawaiian. Never tried it before, and I liked it more than I thought I would. Plus it was three bucks. Got in bed a little after 9:30, after having smoked thirty-five cigs for the day. Just as I was *so* nice and comfortable, ever so buzzy, and drifting off to sleep, some damn dog starts barking. It barks and barks and barks. At first I think it might be Harley, a German shepherd who's sort of become part of the neighborhood, but after a while I realize it doesn't really sound like Harley. I even think I might hear Harley answering. (Harley is cool. On two occasions I've gone outside and told him to "shut up", and he did. If only all dogs were so accomodating.)
So I get out of bed, cursing and grumbling, and put back on my shoes and belt (I'm still dressed, otherwise--it's been cold, for Florida, and this ain't exactly Central Heat Central). I grab my flashlight, flip on the porch light, and open the door. The instant I set foot on my porch, I see a black (or at least very dark) shape run like hell out of the yard. Obviously it's pulled this stunt before and knows just when it's achieved its objective of pissing off some hapless would-be sleeper. It seemed to be a medium-sized dog, a bit smaller than Harley, from what I could tell in the fraction of a second that it blurred in the night across my field of (less than stellar) vision.
"Darn mutt," I mumbled (among other less-mild epithets), and I stumbled back into the scant warmth of my bedroom and, of course, fired up another cigarette. I wound up having four more and got to bed around midnight. Within a few minutes I was chuckling about it, however. It was irritating but also a bit amusing--as long as it doesn't happen again tonight. . . .
Eleven cigarettes were left this morning. I had thirty-nine yesterday.
January 18, 2005
Ten cigarettes were left this morning, so I smoked thirty-six yesterday. I almost got away with thirty-five. Oh well. At least the Buttlist is keeping me focused. I even wrote a couple of (crappy little) shell scripts to help me archive this stuff. If I would just do stuff like that every day, I might learn something. "...absolutely forbids self-pity" just came out of the radio (on the tail end of Fresh Air). I like that. It was a review of Downtown: My Manhatten by Pete Hamill. I'm not sure about the spelling of his name, nor did I catch the name of the reviewer. I'm getting way off-topic here, so goodbye now.
January 17, 2005
Six cigs left this morning, for a total of thirty-eight smoked yesterday.
January 16, 2005
Four left this morning. I smoked forty-five yesterday. Oops.
January 15, 2005
It's Saturday, and that means I can do this in the morning, when I'm pretty sure there were nine left in the pack. "Hold the line at thirty-nine" I told myself, and so I did, but I don't think it's exactly trophy-worthy. Still, I guess staying below two packs a day, even if it's by one measly cigarette, is my goal here if I have one at the moment.
January 14, 2005
I knew I'd do this sooner or later. I can't remember if there were eight or nine cigarettes left this morning. I'm going to say eight, though. Sounds like forty, but no--three were bummed away. Maybe even four; I'm pretty sure it was three, though. Hey, I never said I have a very good memory. Anyway, that's 37 for the day (at most), and by the way and OT-ly, I got my N. Case tickets today :-)
January 13, 2005
Eight cigarettes left this morning. Twelve from that pack, the nine morning leftovers, and another whole pack make 41. Maybe I'll do a little better today, although it's going to be close.
I slept pretty well last night, at least, and I've felt pretty good today. I'm happy for that. And I found out that Neko Case will be in Atlanta next month, and the tickets go on sale tomorrow morning. I've already signed up with Ticketmaster (::excited::).
January 12, 2005
Nine were left this morning. Eleven and the one leftover plus another pack makes 32. I tried to hold the line at thirty, but I caved. Today is another story: I'm on 35 already. It's been a good day in some ways, though. I finally ordered my Squier '51 guitar, and I finally managed to get below 240 pounds. All this is OT for the buttcountlist, though.
January 11, 2005
I smoked the sixteen, of course, and all but one of another pack yesterday. So there was the one left this morning, and 35 cigarettes smoked yesterday.
January 10, 2005
I wound up smoking thirty yesterday: the six leftovers, an entire pack, and four from another. So there were sixteen leftovers this morning.
January 9, 2005
Six squares left this morning. I smoked 42 yesterday. Oops. A lot of it's because I stayed up until after 3 AM. Double oops.
I haven't smoked so many today, up to 25 so far and it's nearly bedtime (hopefully). But a lot of that's probably because I was in bed until 11 or so. I didn't get diddly accomplished this weekend, either. A time-wasting recluse, that's me.
Maybe I can keep this stupid list going, though. I doubt it. It'd be nice to go at least a week without pooping out--at least, I suppose; what really does it matter?
January 8, 2005
Eight Marlboros left last night, and I bummed a Marlboro Light, so that works out to be 39 cigarettes smoked yesterday. Not as bad as I'd feared; still too darn many, though.
January 7, 2005
Six cigarettes were left last night, so I smoked 38 yesterday. I was shooting for 34, but maybe thinking about it helped keep me from smoking more, anyway. Today is Friday, so I won't be surprised if I go over the limit, not that there is any real limit. Maybe if I can limit myself this morning I can keep from going too far into three-pack land.
January 6, 2005
I didn't do as well last night. There were again four cigarettes left; 40 smoked yesterday. I stayed up too late, for one thing. I'll try to do better tonight. I need to.
January 5, 2005
Today I thought I'd try something new. Since it's a little after
the first of the year, and I know I need to at least slow down on
the smoking, I've decided to keep track of how many (and maybe what)
cigarettes I'm smoking each day.
Yesterday I was smoking Camel Filters, not my usual brand. I finished them up and returned to my usual Marlboros. Last night I had four cigarettes left when I went to sleep. The night before, I had one.
Someone bummed two (maybe three, but I'll say two) yesterday.
I went through two packs (as usual), so with three more than I had
the night before, plus the two given out, that leaves 35 cigarettes I
smoked yesterday. Bad, but not as bad as usual--maybe. But I'm not
sure, because I don't keep track; thus the Buttlist.
Why make a Web page when just a simple list would do? Partly because,
in my odd world, a Web page might be easier to keep track of than a list
I'm just going to lose, the way I lose everything. And partly because
I just want to do it.
Anyway, I guess I'll go ahead and make yesterday the first entry in
the Buttlist.