I used to smoke. I used to smoke a lot. It was something to look forward to. Sometimes I wish I still did. It gave me a concrete, if tenuous, connection to other people. Something that I had in common with others. Non-smokers don't band together like smokers do. Smokers seek each other out; a malignant star of david hanging from their lips. They seek each other out and have a community. Camaraderie is only a flick of flint away. I used to have two sets of friends. Those that knew I smoked and those that didn't. Well, as far as I told myself, they didn't. They did. But it was an easy demarcation. North Star and Southern Cross. The two groups didn't mingle and didn't interact. Really, they could have just as easily been seperated into my Theatre friends and my Non-theatre friends. And life gets complicated when you have such an overt habit that is kept from an entire group of people. I can't even begin to imagine how difficult it must be to keep two family lives seperate. How those country-traversing, plane-hopping, globe-travelers do it. How they keep their East Coast family oblivious to their West Coast family, and vice versa. Have you ever tried to hide something that you did on a daily basis from an entire group of people. It's tough work. It's fatiguing. It's time-consuming. Have you ever held a handful of pennies for an hour to kill a scent with copper transfer? Have you ever washed your hands with urine to cut an odor with ammonia? Tobacco isn't cleaned away with soap. It just masks the odor. The smell of urine can be washed away with soap, not tobacco though. Crazy logic isn't it? An olfactorous Rock Paper Scissors. I've choked down tins of Altoids. I've brushed my teeth and tongue until I hit my gag reflex. I've carried pastes of Listerine and Certs in my mouth until my buds went numb. So much work to cover up something that I enjoyed. So much time to hide a secret from friends that already knew. So much effort to mask a part of me. So much work and time and effort for absolutely no reason. I don't smoke anymore. Almost a year ago. A year ago next month. But sometimes I pine. Not for nicotine, but for affiliation. Company. Sometimes I wish I was still a smoker. At least it would give me something to look forward to during the day.