The Shame. Oh! The Shame.

Last night, she and I attended the monthly Hurley’s Pub Quiz, with Ginner joining our team and Procasto hosting. While I’m pleased our second place finish is an improvement over last month’s second-from-last-place finish, we were unable to overcome the awesome trivia power of A-List YULbloggers M-J, Michel, Patrick, and the Milliner.

Next month, Mr. JonasParker will be handling hosting duties (heh. I said “doodies.”) In the meantime, I will be reading the entire Wikipedia site.

Turning now to domestic news, I now have a patch on my arm to keep me from smoking. They appear to be the best option as they have scientists who use cool video screens to demostrate how one can double the chances of quitting. The new apartment is technically non-smoking but the landlord said that was more or less just a suggestion but dagummit, I’m tired of being a smoker. I wasn’t sure when I wanted to start but I decided on a whim this morning that today would be the day to do it. I also figure I want to be ready when the new anti-smoking law comes into effect. But man, I feel dizzy. I started with the six-week treatment, which then turns to a less intensive two week treatment, then, finally, an even less intensive two week treatment. I probably could have skipped straight to Step 2 but I may as well do the whole programme. The main reason I went with the patch (besides the fact that my insurance covers it, and if not, the province will) was that I know what withdrawl does to my emotional state which, in my current work environment, is undesirable.

Still, I feel good. So far.

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11 thoughts on “The Shame. Oh! The Shame.


    Does the patch stick to the underside of the tongue? That way you can at least taste the sweet, sweet nicotinie nectar.

    That was cruel.

    Good luck! Good luck indeed!

  2. Good luck! Quitting smoking was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Six years later, and there are still days I’d sell my own mother for a cigarette.

  3. Let’s see the clichĂ© Rolodex… Hang in there? You can do it? Better late than never? Nope, that won’t do. See, now I need that cheesy 70’s psa with the kids on the steps singing -“Smoking makes your teeth yellow…smoking makes your clothes smellow”. Nothing else will do.

    BTW – What makes these people ‘A-List’ YULbloggers? Is it the number of hits to thier blogs or is it like meat and the A’s just have more marbling while the rest of you are just a bunch of F-List ‘simmer’ steaks.

  4. Were you to see the hits on my blog, it would become quickly evident that I’m, at best, an B-list blogger, as in back to the end of the line.
    We’re A-listers because our minds are amazing receptacles of interesting but useless information, which allow us to occasionally win a free meal at Hurleys. (Heck, I’ll take what I can get.)

  5. They’re A-listers because they’ve been on the scene since before I even knew what a blog was. In many ways, they’ve inspired me to write better quality posts. Not that I ever do, mind you, they just inspire me to.

    Also, they’re all A-Listers because they’re all good looking than me and lead more fabulous lives and therefore, I am filled with jealous rage.

  6. LOL. Wait, does that mean there’s a Z-list too? I want to read the Z-list blogs. No wait, I want to *meet* and drink with the Z-list bloggers at a Hurley’s Z-list blogger meet up for the hideously deformed and obnoxiously un-fabulous cyber pariahs. Y’think they’d be good at trivia?

  7. I’m consumed with jealous rage too, at the A-listers, with their trivia smarts, Type-Pad software, adoring comments, hundreds of page views, and custom templates. They probably all blog on the latest Powerbooks, at Laika, too, and get linked to by Boing Boing. I spend every minute of my day thinking of how to get back at them.

    Utopi– ooh, what a giveaway!

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