Day 3/ Day 4

Yes it is actually Day 4, yes I realize that I didn't post yesterday. I'll do a combined post for all of you that have discovered that I am actually a hysterical writer. I'm not very funny in real life but apparently you all get your panties in a knot when I start to talk about my tampon and machine gun fetish.

Hokay...so onto the good stuff!

Day 4...what a fucking weird day.

Yesterday was terrible for cravings for one reason and one reason alone...the archives. For all of you who do not know, myself and a friend are putting together a presentation on historical photography showing rural communities and farming in the early 1900's for a presentation in Illinois in June. Which means that we have been spending a lot of time at the archives looking at very..very..very old photographs. For most of you your thoughts may strive into the realm of "why is this significant to your smoking addiction Michelle?" well it isn't, accept for the fact that the archives are extremely quiet, you can't eat or drink, and you are wearing rubber gloves. I couldn't even use my fake nicotine inhaler in that reading room. It is literally a pit of a place daring you to think about smoking every second you are there. And the thing that I also realized while starting at photographs from the 1900's is that EVERY FUCKING PERSON SMOKED IN THE 1800'S!

You don't see it too often in the photos because most of them are portraits of people in a studio that look like they have a stick up their butt gluing them to their chair...but its those photos that show some sort of natural life that you realize tobacco was like vitamins in those days, either you were smoking it or chewing it. Which bring me to my entire point of this post. Every time I saw some guy in his lumberjack outfit with a fag in his hand I just wanted to reach into the picture and steal his obviously terribly rolled cigarette. I must have looked oh so appealing to the girl at the reference desk, every time I pulled out a photo. It was like I turned into a labouring mother. "Breathe in and out...good" and again "breathe in and out...good". Now normally this technique would not be so noticeable, due to the fact that in the majority of places there is some semblance of noise, but in the archives some can rip the tiniest of farts and you will have the person sitting across the room muttering under their breath "Jesus can't they just be quiet over there". Needless to say I think the other people who were occupying the room must have thought that I had some sort of debilitating disease because of my hyper ventilation at the sight of some dead guy enjoying a cigarette.

So in an attempt to save my sanity, I ventured over to the greatest food court ever *please insert the most obnoxious sarcastic tone* York Lanes. If I thought the receptionist was bad for staring at my inhaler, the university students who occupy York Lanes should be given an award. It was like I was an alien. I was the older woman walking around the university center sucking on some white thing that looked very dirty to them. I know I heard some giggles from the girls sitting around me. And then the noise began and my attention, and the attention of the entire University center looked towards this pounding dancing aboriginal drum circle. I thought to myself, "Huh, what a weird fucking day...at least this will keep me distracted" and it did...I even took a video...

But then to my absolute HORROR I thought I heard someone start talking about the sacred tobacco and why it was so important in the aboriginal culture...At this moment I booked it. I must have looked like the flash with how quickly I got up and out of there. I don't even think the people around me realized I was moving I was that quick. I should have been given an olympic gold medal for sprinting for that glorious dash.

And today...well today nothing interesting has happened yet. I'll let you know if it does. DAY FUCKING 4 THOUGH!!! BOOYEH!