Wednesday Haze

Last night (okay, this morning) I dreamt I was walking on the beach, smoking a cigarette and blowing smoke rings a la Mr. Big from Sex and the City (known as Saxophone City around these parts).

I don't think I want a cigarette, seeing as the last cigarette I even partially smoked was the one I had in college. I'd gone out to a Mexican restaurant with my roommate and loaded up on salsa and coffee. Later, I'd visited a friend's apartment, where I had a bit of vodka and bummed a cigarette. Never mind that I was never a drinker and my last cigarette prior to that was the last one in a multi-pack series that I'd secretly smoked at age twelve, and which had contributed to a weeks-long bout with canker sores that baffled my parents. You'd think that would have squelched any attraction to smoking that I might have had. Yes, you'd think that.

Anyway, I had the salsa, coffee (many cups), vodka and cigarette...then walked upstairs and fell into bed without brushing my teeth. In the wee hours of the morning, I awoke with a queasy stomach and spent the first half of the day throwing up and (ahem) revisiting the previous night's indulgences. I tried watching TV, but the Denny's commercials just made me extra-nauseous. By the end of the day, I felt much better, but I never had a desire to smoke after that (you'd think the canker sores years prior would have convinced me), and I didn't touch alcohol, coffee or Mexican food for quite a while afterward, either.

Years later I dated a chainsmoker who told me I was lucky to have had the experience I'd had; he'd loved the taste of cigarettes ever since his first drag. He was probably right. But I was really in love with my dreamy smoke rings last night. How strange.

Just the same, I don't believe that all dreams hold deep meaning; some are just related to the residue of the day, and the image that keeps coming up for me is that of a particular exhibit I watched at the science museum yesterday, in which participants tried to make a big cloud of vapor puff upward by pushing down on a bellows thingie.

I don't think I have a point to this. Maybe I need more coffee. And salsa. ;^)