Last Night

So last night I came home from the gym feeling pretty good. So good, that I told my parents about this blog and how it's about my experience quitting smoking. (I know...I should have given it a bit of thought)


Two things happened: 


1. My mother went online and read it, and then sent an email to all of her friends and family telling them about it. (Dying just thinking about it...)


2. My dad, after saying "Wait, what is it called? Butt? Challenge?", did this weird performance piece about the blog/smoking. It went something like this:


Dad: I mean first of all I saw you used the word "piss" on your blog. Nice. 
Me: Yeah, because "pee pee" doesn't have the same effect.
Dad: What about "tinkle"?
Me: Umm.... okay no.
Boyfriend: Hahaha that was funny.
Me: (rolling eyes)
Dad: (Looking at boyfriend) You spend your whole parenthood trying to protect your child from all this terrible stuff, and then as soon as they come of age, all of that goes to hell. (Throws his hands up and points to me)
She met the Surgeon General in Third Grade! She took the Smoke-Free Class of 2000 Pledge and she LIED to the Surgeon General of the United States! She broke a sacred oath! A sacred Oath before God!
Boyfriend: (Laughing hysterically)
Me: Oh God,...yeah but...(and before I could say "but I didn't inhale until AFTER 2000")....he says
Dad: She OUTED HER UNCLE! She told the Surgeon General of the United States, C. Everett Coop, that her Uncle was a smoker and smoked 5 packs a day! Can you believe it!?!
Me: Well now I'm quitting. You should be glad I'm doing this now instead of when I'm old and on oxygen.
Dad (again looking at boyfriend): I don't get it. Everyone who has smoked a cigarette knows that the first time is terrible. No one LIKES smoking at first.  And then what,...you're standing there thinking...thinking, "If I can just get through this one terrible cigarette,... if I just keep smoking, then one day...I will actually get so I like it, and then I'll get cancer and it will be great." (Mind you he's miming smoking the entire time...and his voice is getting louder and louder)
Me: That's bullshit. I didn't hate my first cigarette (and I'm not counting the one in 8th grade). I got a head rush that made me feel like I had done 300 cartwheels in a row. It's not like you WANT cancer. Nobody WANTS cancer.


Okay so that was my evening and I completely blame my dad for the reason I had a nightmare that I was on Late Night with Chelsea Handler. Yes, I'm serious. It was not fun and the truth that I'm not as witty or interesting in real life as I am on my blog came to light...on a comedian's talk show.... forget showing up to class naked, or forgetting about your final exam,...


(those are both things I've been through and I don't consider them nightmares by any stretch of the imagination--my dad is no doubt rolling his eyes at this). 


But being on a talk show....that's frightening.


This brings me to the last thought I have for right now, which is I should have had the "this is my outlet" talk with my parents and reminded them that they are not allowed to hold anything I type against me later because this isn't about trying not to embarrass them. 


(I know Dad,...I've never given that a care before so why start now...) But seriously. This is about me ending the one thing that I know made you look at me differently. (No I'm not going to stop using "like" incorrectly because that just might push me over the edge so just be glad I'm quitting and don't like post ANYTHING.")