Last night I went home and watched Mystic Pizza and Mr. Wonderful, at least the D'Onofrio-tastic parts of them, and smoked a cigarette that was so stale that I'm surprised that it didn't burn completely down on the first pull.

I'm not certain how long I've had this pack sitting on my kitchen counter, at least a year, considering how dusty they are. Shows what an ex-smoker I really am, that it never occurs to me to smoke them. Of course, I did last night, but it's probably only about the third time I've smoked in this apartment since I stopped, what, five years ago? Something like that.

The great thing about smoking the pack or less a year that I seem to these days, is I get really super-high off them, it's like I'm 16 again!

I'll tell you, though, I'm so glad I quit, even though what I really did was get pneumonia and then not start again when I was better, so it was the easiest quit ever in the history of smoking, as I was too sick to notice any withdrawal, is the fact that now cigarettes are $6 a pack!

How old do I sound when I say that when I moved to New York, you could still find them for 99¢ a pack if you looked hard enough? And I mean Marlboros, not shitty no-name brands. To spend six bucks a day, or more likely twelve on something that disappears so quickly and gives you nothing in return but a cough to frighten small children and woodland creatures with is madness.

Of course, if I still smoked, I'm sure I would think it was worth it.

It has occurred to me that I have no friends.

Yeah, I know, I have lots of friends, and I do, lots of friends in Philadelphia and Los Angeles and San Francisco and Seattle and all kinds of place, but in New York, the place that I have lived for nineteen and a half years, not so many.

I used to not be able to move without tripping over friends, back when I ran the front of house for Love Creek, and I would see them all of the time, because I was there all the time. But now? There's my family, of course, the Callahans, and there's Tracing, but that's kind of it. Where did all of my friends go?

There's Sara and Jen, they are in town, but I never see them unless someone visits; there are the people that I work with, but those are the people that I work with, and there used to be all of these actors that I was friends with, but I haven't done a show this year yet, so I haven't been hanging out with anyone. It's not like I have big fights with people and we break up and all is ashes, it's like I remember having local friends, but I don't remember who they are or what happened to them. I guess they just drifted away. Or maybe I drifted.

I'm not lonely, although I am sometimes, but that wasn't what kicked this off. I am, after all, the cat who walked by herself, I just was wondering whatever happened to all of my friends. I know I had them around here somewhere...

I just realized that this entry is what inspired the thoughts above. Thanks alot, Columbine, I didn't notice that I haven't got any friends until you opened your mouth! Or your keyboard. Or...you know what I mean.

I highly recommend my year-ago-today entry, below, I couldn't stop laughing when I read it over to pick a quote. And that's not me being all big-headed, as it is entirely a conversation between Cynthia and Fran and me while watching a basketball game.

We really should do commentary on the TV, we're much funnier than any of the commentators you hear now, although some of the local ones are pretty damn funny in their sheer incompetence.

Lenten entries missed:

Nigel, get this, jump back, actually started his journal again! No really! Now all he has to do is kick his wife in the head and make her start writing again, too, and all will be well.

Anyway, Nigel is moving to Austin, hates commuters, got food poisoning, and has become skinny as a rail.

Today's horoscope:
Moderate attention to practical matters will improve your relationships. Discipline, care, and perseverance are highlighted.

One year ago today:
CYNTHIA
"The Jazz, Not Just Eleven Guys in Culottes and One Guy In Shorts".

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