What is Marriage?

In 7 months, I will be making the most important promise of my life. My childhood dreams and my adult desires will combine into one long-term promise to someone who has transformed me into who I am today.  Beyond the planning of the wedding, I look forward to more days like today, no different, no harder or easier, nothing will have changed, except for a new qualitative for the man in my life: husband.

Sometimes, I feel my excitement about this big move might fluster some feathers from women who wish they were living what I'm living now or simply don't get it. Sometimes, I get a plethora of suggestions and tips for a long-lasting marriage, and sometimes I get asked : "Why? What's the point?"

What does marriage mean today? 

In the past, it was a religious contract for two human beings to be bound to one another under God in order to procreate and manage a family. The roles were tightly defined before the post-modern feminism that I have been raised in: women managed the homestead, men managed the income necessary to do so. Women cooked, cleaned, raised the children, loved their man unconditionally, supported them in their follies without missing a beat. Well... let's be honest. Times have changed, but not that much. Is it me or is my generation looking at our grandmothers with a lot of respect and a little bit of romanticism about those days? (Or maybe it's just because of "Mad Men".)

But today, in my non-secular, non-traditional life, where divorce is not taboo but a "way out", an "oops, I made a mistake", where pre-nups are no longer only for the rich, what does marriage stand for? What am I getting myself into?

First, let me state what most women most likely state before they walk down the aisle: Yes, I am getting married for life.

This statement must seem like a big "duh" to so many. But I don't take this lightly. My experience of marriage is two-fold. My parents divorced, so did my fiancé's. For different reasons, like many of our parents. Mine married very young, raised children, lived separate experiences but one shared life where sacrifice was a constant. They grew up, matured, to realize they were very different people from the day they said "I do". Divorce was the reasonable solution to their unhappiness. But when they got married, the answer to "Why" would certainly have been "Because we love each other and want to be together, no matter what." Oops. But believe me, as their child, just as the children of so many divorced couples, divorce was the best possible outcome : I love my parents, but I love them more divorced. I no longer see them as one entity, as 'my parents', like we do when we are children, but I see them for who they are as independent people. They are stronger apart. Divorce did not equate to failure, as the stigma dictates.

My grandparents lived a different definition of marriage. They were very religious, god-fearing people. My grandmother would never have imagined leaving my grandfather, even amidst his crazy ideas and questionable business decisions; that's just not what a lady did. Even after his death, she remained faithful to him for over a decade until her own death. On days like today, I wish I could dial up Heaven on Skype and ask her "Why? How? What did marriage mean to you? How did you do it?"

Why am I agreeing into this institution even though my education on the topic is confused, mixed, overtly personal at best? Why do some get married telling themselves that if it doesn't work out they can always get divorced? Why is that even an option? Why bother getting married? Well, what does marriage mean to me?

I am a woman of many levels, I guess. I'm getting married because I believe that children are better raised with two strong, loving, constant role-models. Because marriage is a confirmation that I have found my partner in life, the ying to my yang. This man has shown me both support for who I am and challenge to be better. Because he's accepted me for what I do and say and feel, but always has a smile on his face knowing I have yet to push my own limits and he wants to be there to see me do it. Because we share many opinions and thoughts on how we want our lives to be, both personally and together, but still think separately - neither of us is "whipped", for the record. And because the human beings we'll create together will be awesome, cause we're awesome. (Hehehe, well what!? It's true!)

Because at the end of the day, I finally have tasted what real love is and have not felt the desire to ask myself "Is there someone better out there?" Because there isn't. He's perfect... for me. I've never been a better me since I met him. And I want that to continue, because oh baby, it's so just the beginning. (And if you knew me, you'd know that I spent my entire life looking for something better. The fact that I've found it is incredible.)

I believe the path we've taken, having been together for nearly 5 years, living together for 4, is testament to how well we know each other. We live together as if we already are married. No decision is made without both having a chance to pitch in our thoughts and opinions. Compromise? Yeah, we know what it is, but it's not so much about compromise as it is about "What will make you happy because your happiness will rub off on me." (We'd never force the other into a situation that we know would make the other uncomfortable. Do you know how much that is worth?!) We both share passions together, but have talents that are our own. We have one life, but two different experiences. We know each other deeply, but take nothing for granted. And yes, after 5 years, he just keeps getting hotter and more attractive. I still have those butterflies and the excitement to see him after work. We tell each other we love each other every day, but we don't just say it. We mean it. We bicker and argue, and we've fought, but we hate it. We hate upsetting the other. It never lasts. And no, we've never been to bed upset at one another. We don't just say we're sorry, afterwards either. We correct the mistakes we each made and explain each other.

But still. Marriage.... wow. What does it mean to you? What have you experienced? Learned?

La philo d'une PME qui s'amuse

C'est un dimanche d'octobre gris et pluvieux. La parfaite combinaison pour une journée relaxe avec comme bonne compagnie un café au lait et un bon roman.

Mais non. Plutôt, j'ai passé ma matinée au téléphone avec mon patron en brainstorm, en conversation, en rires et en partage. Ce n'était pas juste une placotte entre bons amis ou un appel urgent par rapport à un dossier en cours. Mais comme la majorité de nos fins de semaines, c'était un appel de motivation, de partage d'informations, d'échanges sur les jours à venir, un retour sur les jours passés. Une préparation. J'ai terminé mon appel avec un vent de fraîcheur et un sourire sur la face, comme après bien des conversations de dimanche, prête à attaquer ma semaine.

Mon copain m'a lancé une simple question me voyant énergétique à l'idée du 'travail' : "Comment ça se fait que tu sois excitée comme ça? C'est la fin de semaine, décroche!"

Et ça m'a frappé.

Retourne en arrière de quelques années. J'étais à l'emploi d'une entreprise comme les autres, avec des employés frustrés, de la pression montante, des deadlines, des batailles de coqs. En route pour le job, les palpitations et les serrements de poitrine me frappaient déjà à 8h35. J'étais dans l'industrie qui me passionnait, mais pourquoi j'éprouvais tant d'anxiété? Pourquoi j'étais si détachée de mon emploi? Je ne sentais pas d'appartenance, mais plutôt avait l'impression d'être un chimpanzé à l'ordi. "Just do it" était mon mantra afin de survivre jusqu'à 17h30. Je plaignais mon overtime comme les autres et bitchais si je devais travailler de la maison à quiconque m'écoutais.

Aujourd'hui, je réalise combien je suis chanceuse d'être où je suis parce que l'entreprise pour laquelle je bosse ne m'offre pas juste un job ou un salaire en échange de compléter les tâches qu'elle a besoin. Mon patron crois et vit plutôt les prochains points que je crois fortement qu'une entreprise et ses gestionnaires se doivent d'utiliser et RESPIRER pour connaître du succès.

1. Mon entreprise est un terrain de jeux où mes employés et collègues peuvent s'amuser à faire ce qu'ils aiment et le mettre à profit de ma marque.
2. J'encourage la priorité de la vie privée pour chacun de mes employés. En échange je ne demande que le travail soit honoré en qualité et temps. 
3. Je priorise et facilite l'accès à l'apprentissage de chacun de mes employés même si dans un sujet autre que ses fonctions.
4. Je suis ouvert à l'adaptation et l'utilisation des nouveaux outils et suis une antenne pour les avancements de mon entreprise.
5. Je reconnais l'importance du sentiment d'appartenance à une équipe ou famille. Je valorise la promotion des communications entre équipes et hierarchies à l'extérieur des cadres de travail sans l'imposer. 
6. Je partage mon attention et mon écoute aux besoins de chaque individuel et passe à une action immédiate et songée, portée sur le succès de tous.
7. Je participe activement aux différents départements sans imposer ma façon de faire; je vois à ce que chaque département profite de mon écoute et de mes actions. 
8. Je crois en mes employés et à leurs idées, même si nouvelles, lorsqu'elles ont pour objectif l'amélioration de ma marque et de mon entreprise. Je m'assure de faire un suivi régulier et de les supporter dans leurs actions. 
9. J'investis dans les intérêts de mes employés. En échange, ils seront plus portés à être des ambassadeurs fiers de ma marque dans leur quotidien.
10. Je reconnais les succès et les valeurs des mes employés et collègues et vise à les faire rayonner.

Mon patron vit de ses 'commandements'. Il comprend que le succès que vit son entreprise en découle directement. Lors d'un souper à deux un soir, dans mon salon, qui devait servir à régler un dossier, on a partagé nos désirs personnels et professionels quant à notre succès dans la vie. Ce que ça voulait dire pour chacun. On a discuté de nos connaissances, nos cheminements et ce qu'on voulait accomplir dans nos vies personnelles et communes. À ce stage, j'occupais un poste important qui me plaisais, mais qui n'était pas exactement ce que je voulais faire. De façon naturelle, je lui ai raconté mes espoirs et il m'a demandé, ouvertement et franchement, ce que je ferais si j'étais en fonction de 'jouer' avec sa marque. J'ai pu lui partager mes idées, lui montrer des examples, de rêver.

Il m'a dit go. Essaies. Joues. Tiens-moi au courant de ce que tu fais mais plonge!!


Deux mois plus tard, j'avais mon propre département avec des nouvelles tâches et je formais ma remplacante. Quatre mois plus tard j'avais une promotion formelle. Deux mois encore et j'avais une employée.


Mon entreprise a évoluée drastiquement depuis mon arrivée il y a un an. Nous avons doublé la masse salariale, les ventes ont augmentés, la côte d'appréciation non seulement de la marque mais des employés envers l'entreprise a aussi augmenté. Mon équipe est formidable et tout le monde a profité de cette relation avec notre patron. Nous avons donc tous évolué ensemble et sommes tous fiers de ce que nous accomplissons à tous les jours. Nos clients nous retournent l'appréciation et des gens qui ne savaient même pas qu'on existait il y a 1 ans chantent nos louanges.


C'est très flatteur. Et très motivant. Et ça fait en sorte que quand mon téléphone sonne un dimanche après-midi et que je vois le nom de mon boss, je réponds avec un sourire.


Bien sûr, qui ne s'amuserait pas à bosser pour une entreprise qui crée des partys! Mais bon. Je crois sincèrement que toute entreprise, petite ou grande, qui vit de ces commandements vivra une belle aventure avec son propre succès.

Thirty what?

You know that moment when your brain catches up to your body? That specific flash that you've been innocently, nonchalantly and happily ignoring? The instant you realize your mental age is finally your actual age?

Yeah, that one.

Once that realization popped into my conscience, all I could say is "What does that MEAN!?"

Is it a transition? Is it conforming? Growing old? Eich.

The Rachelle that, up until yesterday, was still an accumulation of carbon copies of my past, composed of the words I had attached to my identity, is NOT the same Rachelle that is anxiously gulping down this latté, fighting to describe this weird feeling.

Yeah, okay, my rituals are still the same, my relationship on a daily basis is just as stable. I haven't moved or drastically changed anything in my life. And I think that's the point; everything gradually crept up on me. Simple little 'upgrades' that all of a sudden cumulated into a "holy shit", let-me-catch-my-breath lightbulb moment. What happened?

The words have changed. 

It's not twenty, it's thirty.
It's not single, it's engaged.
It's not Assistant, it's Director.
It's not dates, it's meetings.
It's not Pepsi Cola, it's Pinot Grigrio.

So what does all of this mean, exactly? Why am I even bothering to write any of this on a blog of all places?

Because I'm fascinated by the triggers. I'm, bluntly put, shocked that I'm currently realizing goals that I had given myself that rainy day in my therapists office 5 years ago (oh, how cliché!). You know, when everything just sucks, you think you're failing at everything and stuck in neutral, completely unsatisfied, alone, bitchy, poor and unmotivated? (Or what I like to call "My Twenties").

To that person I was paying 80$/hour who asked me "Why do you think it's impossible to reach those goals?" *&#@ you. It wasn't impossible. It just wasn't possible yet.

So what now? Nothing. Of course, I deal with a lot more stress than I used to, but it's all good. It's productive. I'm having fun (minus the whole painful, cracking bones and joints thing).

I'm a big kid, now.

When did it hit you?

Survivor's Guilt

No, I'm not the sole survivor of a plane crash or a natural disaster. I haven't lost my family and friends to tragedy, either. But having just passed the 6 month mark of the Haïti earthquake, I've been asking myself : "Have I been able to keep my promise to Haïti? Am I still dedicated to long term help?"

Sadly, the answer is no.

(Now, for those who don't know why I say this, read my earlier post about my implication with Haïti.)

That's why I feel guilty. Although I live thousands of miles away and my life is naturally detached from their harsh reality, I feel remorse that I'm not doing more, not doing enough.

This especially hit me recently when my virtual friend Shaun King tweeted about a trip to Haïti to go rebuild an orphanage for children affected with health issues. Many signed up... but I didn't. My thoughts went back and forth: "Take your vacation days, save up money, go!" "But my job, my fiancé, my family... they need me here. It's unrealistic to take off and go." "But you promised!" "But I can't!" I would look into my fiancé's face and know that it was impossible. And my heart would break. And it still has a chip in it.

I'm sure that those of you who dedicated those sleepless hours as virtual volunteers must have felt the same at one point or another. How do we deal with it? How do we resolve that our lives ARE detached from that reality? How do we look at the luxuries around us like that roof that doesn't leak or that comfy, big bed with new Ikea sheets and not want to shove them in a box and send them over there? I feel like I went from 200-miles-an-hour, full-speed-ahead dedication to fully flatlining from exhaustion and never finding the strength to continue on. I spent nearly the whole month of February trying to regain my strength and catch up to my real life, which I had left behind while I was busy 'saving Haïti'. Now I've found my life again, I feel normal again. But to what cost...?

I look at my friend Luke Renner of Fireside International who, as soon as the dust settled, hit the streets to survey school destruction and start building a plan to bring education back to the residents by using innovation and creativity. He's still there, even without the pillars of strength that are his wife and daughter, fighting to get the iPods filled with educational material (virtual schools) into the hands of those that need it.

I hold so much respect for Shaun and Luke (to only mention two of hundreds) and I wish I could do more to help them. I look at my virtual buddy Melissa (@MelyMello) and have so much respect for the fact that she put her life on hold for a week to accompany Shaun last week to Haïti and get her hands dirty after having spent so much time organizing and filtering information, coordinating help and communications. She's a superstar.

I'm not rich, I'm not a globetrotter with airmiles... hell, I don't even own a credit card. But I have my laptop and continue to exchange with Haitians and volunteers. When I see a Tweet that merits our attention, I retweet. An interesting post on Facebook? I share it. Someone needs help raising money? I do what I can although I, myself, count pennies.

Why do I feel this survivor's guilt? Because Haitians are still suffering, still living in tents that get flooded in the rains, unprotected from hurricanes. Because there are still orphans with no names or dates of birth being fed too little. Because people are still living in homes that are unsafe and still threaten to crumble on top of their heads. Women are still be raped and violated for no other reason than men needing something to do. Does Haïti still feel love?

I still hold on to my desire to go help in person. I hope that one day I can stop hoping and just do it.

How Foursquare might force me to confront the truth. I'm an addict.

I'm addicted to lattes. I'm convinced it's the only way I can get through my day. Let me rephrase that: I can't START my day without a latte. Which means I need a good pusher. And my pusher has to be right in my neighborhood, close enough to ensure that I'm there practically every day. Enter Le Caffè Mariani. Anyone who knows me knows that this little place is my crack den.

Mariani is quickly becoming the heartbeat of the Place St-Henri neighborhood. It's hard not to fall under its charm! From the market fresh local food, to the newly arrived comfy antique arm chairs that are perfect for watching the Habs game, terrasse, 5 à 7 specials and tapas dishes available in the evening accompanied by local microbrewery beers. 

The breakfast menu is traditional café fare on weekdays and full out decadence on weekends featuring fresh made waffles, fruits and mounds of bacon and eggs. (Open until 3pm, BTW.)

For lunch, a nice spread of homemade pizzas and fresh salads, paninis and desserts. Even the beverages are well-thought out and offer a range organic sodas and my favourite Boylan's sodas.

Okay, now I'm sounding like a restaurant blogger which I am so not, so I'll just round up by saying that I'm on my way to becoming the Mayor of Mariani on Foursquare. Which is in and of itself a sad realization. Go in for yourself and grab a latte. 

Le Caffè Mariani

4450 Notre Dame West, Montréal

View Larger Map

Photos by me and http://www.tripulu.com/montreal/restaurants/cafe-mariani/

Day 29 - Haiti: The smoke came from there...

This is going to be a different type of entry. Because surprisingly, even through all of this, I didn't light up once - this is after all a blog about my quitting smoking... But I realize that my back-patting blog can show in a different light the challenges I faced recently, making quitting smoking seem so petty (although all ex-smokers know it's really huge, in its own perspective).

January 12th - 5:45 pm Get home, throw my tired body onto the couch. (DON'T light up that habitual cigarette.) Chit chat with my boyfriend as we usually do, until I reach over and open my Macbook. Like I usually do. I log on to Twitter and BOOM! my life as I know it changes drastically for the next three weeks.

The Twitterverse is all a buzz about this huge earthquake in Haiti.

I start chasing all of the sources that claim to have the most information, follow them, turn on my television. I'm completely enveloped in these tweets claiming live feeds and 'realtime' information. So I tune into one of these streaming video feeds from someone's living room, a makeshift studio put together on what seems to be a dining room table. This guy is chatting with a frazzled Internet provider CEO, also livestreaming from his home office... in Petionville, Haiti. It's just a few hours after the earthquake, and you can hear the quiver in his voice. He says his wife is a doctor (she's yelling at him to get out of the house, it's not safe).

More and more people are tuning into this amateur report. More and more people are English. This feed being in French, I start blindly translating what's being said, from French to English. I must have done so for 4 hours, non-stop.

That was no longer enough for me, though. The calls for help were still coming through via Twitter the next day. This time it was about the lack of water, medical help and people stuck under rubble. It was frustrating. At that point, only the US Coast Guard had made it there and were doing all they could in Port-au-Prince to be of any help at all. But it clearly wasn't enough.

Chaos was seeping in. So I googled. This was frustrating. How could I help? There must be something that can be done, this is ridiculous! I was seeing calls for help in orphanages! No... not babies!?.... I kept googling until I feel upon this curious website called Ushahidi (haiti.ushahidi.com). There were other emergency calls being uploaded, information, a map... this was amazing. So I punched in the information I got until I realized that the orphanage had already been written about a few hours earlier. Had someone followed up on this? Was this true? What was happening, was someone dispatched?

I knew that all of this was extremely new, never been done before - not that I was aware of, anyways. Twitter wasn't very old, I'd never heard of a region hit by a natural disaster with cell and phone lines down, but Internet still being up and running. Were the people in charge of organizing emergency calls getting this information? Were they doing anything with it?

So I searched online and tried to get direct "from the source" information on how the orphanage was doing. I managed to reach the Colorado office of the haitian orphanage. The owner was chatting via Yahoo! Messenger with the orphanage itself and confirmed that they'd had no help yet. So I updated the Ushahidi post with the confirmation and my information. I posted it on my Twitter page, too. (You never knew who was going to read your tweet!)

Within an hour, both Oxfam and World Water Relief called me to find out where I got this information and how they could help. Wow! I was excited and nervous all at once! (It worked! It worked? Wow, it actually worked. Then, kinda like that candy that pops in your mouth, I was getting all of these new contacts, getting and giving information about the conditions on the ground in Haiti, acting as a liaison between the Web and the Ground via the Phone. (My cell phone bill is going to be ridiculous. RIDICULOUS! - but worth it.) At one point, I was actually giving information on the road conditions and the quickest routes into Port-au-Prince to a doctor on his way to help out wherever they were needed, armed with water filtration devices. Through the good graces of the domino effect, the kids at God's Littlest Angels actually got water the next day!!! That was the first time I had cried. I had had a tiny role to play in that and I felt peace. Butterfly effect. *Shivers*

The next two weeks consisted of coordinating with forces on the ground and other Voluntweeters (lol, I know... corny but adequate) - There was an army of volunteers from all walks of life gathering for one cause. It was awe inspiring. From pastors to wedding planners, radio DJs to college students. Musicians to former politicians and actors to hackers - we were all uniting and making sure that action and accountability were synonymous. Then the media got hold of what was being done, and like a wildfire, I was getting requests for interviews from national networks. Live, pre-recorded, Skype, etc. I hadn't even gotten that much media for the band!!! This was awesome because it was actually for something way bigger than me. For once I was the mouthpiece for a cause not affiliated to an organization, but rather free-spirited, intelligent and collective effort.

Everyone over the past few weeks has felt that buzz, that collective energy flowing through each one of us, inspiring action and involvement. It's been incredible to be part of it and connect with like-minded people. It's been awesome to witness the birth social media's soul.

I'm a singer. An event planner. I'm not SuperWoman or Storm. I have an addiction to my Macbook and iPhone. That's all.

The work continues. I'm rested (yet sick), happy and ready to roll up my sleeves again. And I STILL haven't lit back up again.

Photo by Matthew McDermott

Day 10 - The Rewiring

Not one craving today. I actually don't remember having a physical craving in a couple of days. I even find myself no longer thinking that often about smoking (maybe once or twice in the day I'll say to myself "Here, I would normally light up"). So I consider that a success, passing on to the next phase of my quit. Yay!

That was actually pretty quick. Less than two weeks to detox. Now it's all about the psychological side of the nicotine addiction. Continuing the rewiring. Continue ignoring my personal assistant which is only doing it's job by reminding me to light up; my brain will eventually fully catch on. Right now it's just like a confused little assistant who doesn't know on which foot to dance cause you just changed up the whole plan on her. She's a smart cookie, though. She'll get it quick enough.

Add to that that I've been sick since Saturday, so that has made it quite easier, thankfully.

The one thing that I have noticed and that I think I'm the most proud of is that I haven't taken my Symbicort in 11 days. Normally I take two puffs a day... every day. So my asthma was directly linked to my smoking. *&%$# And I knew it, too. I realized that my asthma actually started about a couple years after I started smoking, my first severe attack when I was 15. From then on I was prescribed everything from Ventolin to Flovent to Symbicort, nothing helping improve my condition. Until I quit. I hadn't noticed during my last quit either how my asthma had improved. And how a few months after I had started smoking again I was hospitalized for 3 days for a severe asthma attack. Here's an interesting article I found online about the link between smoking and asthma:

"How does smoking cause asthma? “Tobacco smoke contains several irritants that have been shown to cause chronic inflammation in the airways and in the alveoli. Such chronic inflammation can lead to asthma,” Dr. Jaakkola explained. “In addition, smoking has been shown to modulate the immune system and to impair normal repair systems leading, potentially, to asthma.” She added that in both animals and humans, hypersensitivity to allergens is enhanced in the presence of tobacco smoke." (http://www.pulmonaryreviews.com/jan05/smokingasthma.html)

Mitch is doing much better, too, no longer anxious about it anymore. I even reminded him today about the fact that I hadn't seen him jones in a while. He hadn't even noticed. :) Well, (other than the sick part) I continue to enjoy this path to ex-smoking.

Day 7 - Keepin' On

Okay, I know I skipped Day 5 and 6. They were uneventfuly stable yet sprinkled with the usual anxiety and mini-cravings.

Today I reflect back on the first week in order to share my list of Do's and Don'ts - maybe it could help me/someone else in the future.

- DO drink lots of water the first week. The first few days, you will retain a lot of friggin' water, won't pee much, might not even.. you know... Number 2 much. Your body's gonna be REBELLING, trying to get your attention and convince you to smoke just one little cigarette. Which, of course you know, is a don't. Gatorade is a good alternative to water, too. And the sugars in the Gatorade will help increase your blood sugars, in return calming down your cravings. (I'll explain why below.)

- DO drink cranberry juice in the first two days. It'll help quicken the detox of your body. And it's yummy. (Feel free to water it down a little if you find it too tart.)

- DO keep a HEALTHY snack nearby for the first couple of days. The important thing to remember here is that you don't want to replace your smoking habit by an eating habit, but to keep feeding your body small amounts of sugar throughout the day. If you were like me when you smoked, you used to skip breakfast every morning, sometimes even lunch, and just make up for it at night. Well, reality check, that diet ain't gonna keep you nice and thin when you quit. Actually, you won't last.

Instead of going back to a 3-meal day, replace it by 5 SMALLER meals (like a bagel with cream cheese and juice for breaky, an apple at around 10:30 - or around the time you would go smoke normally, a nice sandwich and salad for lunch - Side note : Activia for dessert REALLY helps regulate you. I used to laugh at Jamie Lee Curtis when I smoked, but now my coffee/cigarette laxative is gone, so... yeah, you get the point. Fibre is goooooood. Trail mix in the p.m. to keep you going - y'all know I love my trail mix! - and then a nice small but healthy dinner. Yes, dessert, dessert, dessert rocks - my sweettooth is HORENDOUSLY vicious. But don't do like I did. I quit the French toast two days ago and feel so mucn better!

- DON'T use the nic-fits as an excuse to be ultra bitchy with your partner. He may or may not be quitting at the same time as you, but he also has feelings. And if he's quitting along with you, you'll just get it right back in your face. And that ain't fun.

- DO remember that a nic-fit/craving/finger-wringing-desire only lasts a few moments. The THOUGHT itself may last longer, but the actual physical craving only lasts about 10 seconds. The key that has helped me deal with it is simple. "This, too, shall pass." Accept that you're going through that feeling. Yeah, it sucks. Okay, now move on to something else. By the time you've picked your nose, or changed the TV channel, skipped from Facebook to Twitter, you'll be past the craving and won't even realize it. And remember that the cravings get fewer and far-between as the days go by. Just hang in there.

We will ALWAYS be ex-smokers. The memory of enjoying smoking will always remain; our brains are wired to not remember the pain as vividly as the good parts. So, you'll be having a glass of wine in 4 years and, poof, the thought of 'hmmmm, I would smoke a cigarette right now' will swipe through your head. But the physical craving won't. Temptation will be easier. Which is in part why I'm writing this blog. To remember the pain I went through.

NOT ANOTHER PUFF.

Nicotine releases immediate blood sugars into your body (normally food will do the same but only after digestion, so about 20 minutes later). This is why we used to be able to skip a meal by smoking a cigarette... or 3. Now, not possible. It's also KEY to not BINGE during this period - unless you REALLY want that badunkadunk. Because of the 20 minute buffer, you're going to think you're still hungry after a meal. Wait. Waiiiiit before you scarf down that entire sugar pie, honey. Digestion is key to getting your metabolism back to normal. This is also why Gatorade might help through the first week, give you a boost of sugar and help fight the incredible munchies. It'll get easier. And the bloating will go down.

Week one down! Nice!

You Mother Liquor...

I always loved documentaries. Had never seen one on nicotine/cigarettes before. Interesting whether you're a non-, ex- or current smoker.

This 4 part series is a must-see.

Would you like a side-order of French Toast with that?

What the hell?! What do I say to myself in order to convince myself that, yes, eating French Toast for dessert after a full plate of pasta is a completely normal thing to do?! I can't help but laugh. Not at the fact that I did it, not necessarily, but rather the fact that I thought it was a good idea while I know it's a little exaggerated for dessert. An apple woulda been okay...

I feel like I'm going through one constant nic-fit. Being so close to food is tempting, and I could still eat even though my tummy is obviously gorged.

Tough one, because the constant urge is getting annoying. Wheres ma damn lemon wader.

Well, it's merely a question of education, my dear!

So I decided to kill some time around the period of the day where I would normally head out and puff up by reading up on my gargantuan hunger, edginess, bickering, you know... all that stuff written below. While surfing the internets, I found this page that pretty much summed up all of my questions' answers into one not-so-lovely but oh-so-informational page on WhyQuit.com .

So basically if I want to fight that bulge I'm so damn worried about (who the hell isn't... I mean, pfff, I kinda like my 'smoker weight'... and last time i quit I gained a whopping 30 pounds), I'm going to go drink some cranberry juice and keep munching on tiny little portions of my trail mix throughout the day. I'm going to have to get used to eating that meal at the beginning of the day... you know... whatsitcalled... BREAKFAST. (I only really do that on weekends at like 2 p.m. when Mitch has a craving for bacon and eggs). I guess I should go buy some cereal at the grocery store so I can eat at the office.

My skewed brain was worried that eating breakfast and lunch (which I haven't always been good at) would cause me to gain weight... But then again, I normally eat so much fatty food at night (i.e. pizza, poutine, fries, hamburgers, etc.) that if I manage to just spread out all those calories in the day and do just a bit more activity during the day, I shouldn't gain that much weight. Oh yeah, and keep drinking my 2 f*&%g liters of water a day (I'm kinda coasting at between 500 and 600 mL so far...)

So, to that I say "We shall see... we shall see."

F*&?$#@! Long Live Trail Mix

The title says it all. My lunch break was the hardest fit I've had in the last 3 days. Although you'd think with the cold weather I'd be happy to stay inside and not stink myself up. But... yeahh... trail mix. Trail mix is my new cigarette break. And it's loaded enough that I can't eat too much of it.

*&?%$$## Trail Mix.

Day 3 - Back to Basics

First day back to work *grumble*. Probably like most of you, my routine was all screwed up. I had set my alarm clock early to take my shower, wanted to make myself a coffee before heading out. None of it happened thanks to that damn snooze button.

I still managed to make it out the door on time, surprisingly. The entire city is covered in this wonderful duvet of snow, so I took out my MITTENS and decided to finally wear them. You have to understand, mittens are completely impractical for smokers unless they are super thin and you're able to balance and flick the cigarette from between your thumb and your index, without burning the wool. Good luck. But yay, are they comfy and nice!

So I briskly walked all the way to the metro station, which normally initiates a tightening in my chest on a good day, a full out asthma attack on other days. This time, coast was clear, no breathing issues, not even a wheeze! :D

I sat down in the metro car, pull out my book ("The Death and Life of Bobby Z" by Don Winslow - excellent read!) and at the next stop a smoker plops down next to me. I NEARLY CHOKED! I hadn't had that kind of reaction to a smoker in a while, but HOLY CRAP DID HE FRIGGIN RUB THE ASHTRAY ON HIS COAT OR SOMETHING?! I shudder from the thought that I smelled like this. That I made people react like that to my smell. Women should smell pretty, rosy, flowery. Not smokey. Not like they just crawled out from a pub crawl in Dublin!

Anyways. I'm at my desk about to embark on my first workday sans smoke. I might have to force myself to take little breaks. I sincerely hope that Mitch will be okay without me at home and that he'll stay the course. I won't be mad if he doesn't but I guess I will be disappointed if my partner flakes. We'll see how it goes - point is I am now an ex-smoker. That's all that matters.

Hunh, so far so good.

I was sitting here looking at my screen wondering what was bothering me the most about my quit today. And I realized that between the cleaning, the napping, putting on our snowsuits and running around with Treble in the snow at the park, not smoking today was pretty smooth.

Of course, Mitch and I bickered like crazy (and to put it in context, we often bicker like regular couples do, but let's just say our fuses are slightly, actually much shorter). We do take our time to calm down and then talk to the other about it, so it's not unhealthy. :) It's actually funny when we listen to ourselves.

I'm drinking a lot less water today, but it's still handy.

It IS still early in the evening though.

Back to work tomorrow. That'll be another challenge. At least my two office roomies are ex- and social smokers.

One thing I must say, that I'm sure our dog appreciates more than us, is how nicely smokeless our living room is. We used to have to open the window sometimes. But not in the last two days. And I noticed that I didn't need my pump after running outside in the snow (which normally requires my inhaler within 10-15 minutes).

So yeah, so far so good. Bring on the cravings, I know how to handle them now.

Woohoo, I made it to Day 2!

Day One was interesting... and long. Though I realize my two mistakes that made the day go by so much slower: I played along with Mitch (who is sick, mind you) and was a couch potato. All day. No activity other than taking Treble for a walk. That and I kept giving into the cravings. Not that that by itself is such a problem, but it's when you go back for seconds and thirds... that's a problem. And what was up with my random combinations?! Anyways.

Seeing as it has snowed a whole lot in the last 24 hours, I'm going to correct my first mistake by taking Treble to the train tracks to run wild for a while. I'm thinking I'll even put my snow pants on and hopefully Mitch will feel better and come out with us! I need to move!

One thing I had forgotten about quitting is how quickly your metabolism SLOWS DOWN. I think I'm going to have to pick up some Activia or something. And water retention!!! I drank nearly 2L yesterday and only peed twice! I felt like a water balloon all evening.

Time stamp : 33 hours 8 minutes

The Worst Nic-Fit Combination Ever

Floating around on Twitter and I come about this video. Right in the middle of a munchie fit that made me want to hurl my iPhone.

And now I'm... reaching... for... my... lemon water.

It'd be kinda funny to try that recipe out. Maybe give one to Mitch for his birthday in my old iPhone box. Oooohhh, that's sweet AND evil.

Delicious!

**Thanks @zee for posting!

The Bickering

You know what makes a great nic-fit trigger? Bickering. Like over clothes thrown on the floor from the night before at 2 a.m. while half asleep. Bickering with someone else who's nic-fitting. Lolll. It's a good thing I love him. Phew. This is a short one, just needed to take my mind off the fit.

:) Om hari krishna jesus oh mary mother of *&?%$.

Time stamp : 19 hours 44 minutes

The Munchies

One of my most favourite yet most feared "side effects" , if you will, of quitting is the munchies.

I have eaten so far today : 1 apple, 2 eggs with cheese, 2 clementines with chocolate sauce, 2 handfuls of Tater tots and bbq sauce (random, I know, but I saw them in the freezer and I just had to!) Oh, I also ate 2 Lindor chocolates.

I know it's not a lot, but come on, that's a RANDOM menu! (And it still hasn't made the craving go away, so note: food does not replace cigarette.) Mitch is going to go get some dinner at the grocery store. I have no idea what to get. I want to eat healthy, but with him being sick, I don't want us to have to cook. Agh, this is why ordering food was so easy!

The Fits

Sounds like a band name. Hunh.

Well, I'm half-way past Day One. I'm half-way through my bottle of water (how the hell is it not going down quicker?!) and I'm half-way to bat shit crazy. But it's okay. Like the tattoo on my forearm : This, too, shall pass.

But holy cow, Batman.

Mitch is up. Apparently he dreamt that I had started smoking again. Which I think is funny cause I only quit last night. Vote of confidence much, Mitch's Subconscious??? I can already see he's edgy. Fun times. At least my dog is still and always the epitome of calmess. I'll cuddle with him when I have a fit.

I had one point this afternoon where my hands started shaking. So I started making my blog prettier to keep me busy. Then my Mom called.

First thing I heard when I answered was her inhaling her own cigarette. And my knuckles went white as my eyes darted across my coffee table, instantly searching for my trusty pack of DuMaurier's. And then reality hit 2 seconds later. Oh yeah. Ok. I can do this.

So onwards and upwards. Time to start looking into the yoga classes next door. Ain't NO WAY I'm gaining that weight back.

Bottle of lemon water, my new Pack

So in the attempt to NOT put on the 30 pounds I had last time I quit, I'm going to try carrying around my trusty 32 oz water bottle with a little bit of lemon in it. (Thanks to Miss Delisle for the hint.) Supposedly the lemon will help cut the muccus (ewww) in my throat as well as numerous other benefits I'm too edgy to write down.

I let Mitch hide my smokes last night (yes, I actually have some left, but have no idea where he put them). I'm kinda happy about it because I skipped the whole "I'm throwing out my smokes" ceremony, but at the same time, they are still inside my walls, haunting me. So I'll get him to throw them out. In front of me.

Mitch quit, too, but he's still in bed. I can't sleep. Too edgy. Can't eat, too edgy. Time stamp : 12 hours 57 minutes.

Brilliant Anti-Smoking Videos

As it is with any new endeavor I embark upon, I spent some time online and found a few powerful anti-smoking videos from around the world. These actually moved me. So I'm going to collect a few here.

Punch in. Day One. (Ugh)

The sole purpose of this page is because not 15 minutes ago I made my boyfriend swear he wouldn't tell anyone about our little promise. And now I have to tell someone. So I'll tell the emptiness of this space.

WE'RE QUITTING SMOKING.

How ridiculous a little thing to keep secret, but this is why: I quit everything, even quitting. My longest success period was just over 1 year. And then I caved and believed myself by saying 'Just one'. That was 3 years ago.

I started smoking when I was 13 years old, so that's nearly 17 years (minus one). 16 years. And yeah, I had started because I wanted to be cool. And it was. And now my entire apartment stinks like my grandparents house.

I'm also a singer, so the Duh Factor there is pretty big.

I'm also an asthmatic. Yeah. There's that Duh Factor again.

So basically this is where I'll allow myself to spill my guts about the Quit (among other things). If ever ANYONE at all decides to read this, feel free to ask me questions. It entertains me and, well let's face it, I'll be a ball of energy for the next few days, so keep me entertained.

Smoke free : 11 hours, 6 minutes