Fag Hag

This is a sponsored post. Writing it gets me on a plane to Melbourne for Blogopolis.

I had my first cigarette when I was 14. I thought I was so cool, sitting alone at the bus stop before school, having half a puff of the mildest cigarette ever made and coughing my severely asthmatic lungs up to the point where my eyes watered. It doesn't get much cooler than that, right? How were the boys not falling over themselves to get to me?

Afraid my dirty little secret would be found out, I would shove an entire packet of mints in my mouth and douse myself with deodorant just as the bus pulled up. Instead of smelling like a stinky ashtray, I smelled like a stinky ashtray dipped in mint and berries. My apologies to the bus driver, who nearly choked one morning after a particularly thorough dousing.

I didn't really touch them again until I was 18, when I became a Friday night Fag Hag (smoking an entire packet on the one and only night a week that you smoke) and I only graduated to full blown smoker when I went through a bit of a crisis. Or rather, crises.

I ended up smoking an entire pack a day. 30 cigarettes, in 18 waking hours. Every. Single. Day.

Like many youngens, I wasn't concerned with the health effects. Which is really surprising since it was my constant whingeing and nagging insistence that got my grandmother to quit many years prior. Oh how the mighty did fall.

At the time I didn't really care about the cost either. When I look back at it now and see how much money I wasted (about $8000 over four years) I cringe. Do you know how many shoes, handbags and iThings that could buy???

Apparently there are many levels of addiction, and for some reason or another, nicotine and I were friends, but we weren't inseparable soulmates (I scored a 3 on the nicotine addiction test). So one day, I just decided to quit... though having a hunky new anti-smoking boyfriend may have had something to do with it. I still had a pack in the cupboard and I didn't touch them. Didn't want to touch them.

Apparently my Dad did it the exact same way. Kept a packet in his top pocket to prove to himself he could resist temptation. Freak.

I do find myself flirting with my old nicotine friend from time to time, normally when I'm having a few loud quiet ones with other smokers, but I'm lucky that for me, it doesn't mean being dragged back in to that expensive habit... just a stern reprimand from Map Guy (who was the hunky new boyfriend).

If you'd like to find out the benefits of quitting smoking, how much money you're wasting, and some tools to help you quit, visit http://www.doortoquitting.com.au. Maybe I should too so I can kick the habit once and for all.