On the first cellphone I had if I missed a call it was terribly obvious that it was me. I said, "You've reached Joseph Halvarson..." yada, yada, yada. The point is, my name was the third and fourth word I said. Somehow I received three messages from the same woman. I would guess she was in her late forties based on her voice, and she was always looking for her "Jerkass of a motherfucking nephew." A week later she was asking, "Where the fuck are you with the fucking carrots for the goddamn stew I'm making?" And a few days later was, "Hold on, who the fuck are you? You ain't my fucking nephew." That was the last message I received from her. I never called her back, I think I was too scared of what she would ask me to do or get for her. At least she finally figured it out and was hopefully able to finish her stew.

I smoke. I began smoking after 26 years of ardent hatred. Basically everyone in my family smokes: cousins, brother, sister, mom, dad, grandpas, grandmas, aunts, uncles, and cousins. All of their friends smoke. I was the only one standing for reasoning, arguing about the health benefits of not smoking. Then I had a shitty year and I decided what the hell. It was a stupid thing to do, because now I am addicted. However, I do enjoy it. Growing up with all of that smoke, I didn't realize how much I missed it once it was gone. My defense is that I believe all the years of secondhand smoke changed some hardwiring in my brain or my blood chemistry. I need those chemicals to feel at ease.
As for quitting...I live in Seoul, Korea now and will move home in a month. I plan to quit then, but I believe I'll miss it intensely. I'm sure anytime I see someone taking a drag I'll want one. Everytime I walk through someone's cigarette exhaust I'll get wistful. But, I don't want my children to go through what I did. Nicotine is a powerful drug, one that is hard to dismiss from my life. I will stop, but not for lack of wanting.