It was a much-needed St Augustine weekend ...

While a trip to my Mom's would have been ever better, it's a long drive to spend one day and drive home again.  So we made the concession to drive to St Augustine Friday night after work, spend two days and drive back Sunday afternoon.

I won't talk about Friday night, after all I've already embarassed myself and posted about it on Facebook.  :)

Saturday morning we headed to Silver Feather first.  Troy got a new flute.  Made of bamboo by a local flute-maker.  Sounds really nice.  He forgot his necklace when we drove up so we got him a new chain with a silver feather (seems appropriate, doesn't it?) that has turquoise running down the center of it.  From there we hit an assortment of shops and I picked up a few dresses and a sleeveless light-colored shirt to replace the heavy, dark-colored t-shirt I was sweating in. We finally made it to the Lightner Museum before heading back to St. George street.

When we go to St. Augustine I've always made the concession that it's the one time I can smoke.  We always go to Troy's favorite cigar shop and pick up a few cigars for him.  (I got some empty cigar boxes while we were there to try and be crafty with!)  I always get a pack of cigarettes to smoke with him while he has his cigar.  The last time I smoked, some time ago, I was smoking Newports.  Don't ask me why, but I suddenly liked the menthol taste.  (Dontcha love this ad.  "Welcome Aboard"  Welcome aboard to what?  Future lung cancer or other respiratory diseases??)

We went to Crucial Coffee (as we always do after a cigar purchase) and got our drinks with our respective cancer choices.  We sat outside and shared an umbrella as it started to rain.  Huddled together, puffing away like a bunch of teenagers.  Okay, maybe not. Troy was more dignified while I was like a teen-ager afraid of getting caught and puffing away.  One cigarette, two cigarettes, and I continued until Troy fnished his cigar. 

We left and went to Columbia Restaurant, one of our favorites, for lunch.  I had canneloni with lobster meat in a rich cream sauce.  Troy had a combo platter that he enjoyed as well.  We had two bottles of Vino Esmeralda (something else I never do, drink alcohol) and left feeling full and a little tipsy.  We wandered the St George street before returning to the car to dump our latest purchases and head back to the hotel.

Once there, we laid down for a few minutes as my head had begun a slight pounding in the top of it.  It began to ease off and once again I was craving a cigarette.  I went outside the room to smoke it and was already feeling slightly queasy from the last cigarette I had.  I finished it, went inside and promptly knelt in front of the Great Porcelain God we have all worshiped at one time in our lives for one reason or another.  The funny thing is, I welcome puking because I know as soon as it's over I feel better.  And I did!  Well, except my headache was back and now threatening to burst through the top of my skull.

As I lay in bed reflecting on the event, I examined my smoking habit.  I realize St Augustine and Troy's cigar are nothing but an excuse to imbibe in a much-missed habit.  No matter how long you've quit, you crave it.  But I realized something else I had not realized before.  The obsessive-compulsive thing again.  This time, it was the cigarettes.

When I have a cigarette it is like this flame inside of my that is always hungry for one more.  Once I do have one, it's one after another, like I just can't stop unless I am some place that I cannot smoke.  It's such a nasty and health-damaging habit.  I know this, but it's so hard to fight.

Even after getting sick, I tried to go get another pack just so I could "have one" the next day.  Troy, thank God, reigned me in and distracted me with shiny things, like jewelry at Silver Feather.  :)

We left a little earlier than we normally do, but I was tired from the two days of walking.  I really need to start walking at night and get into at least a little better shape than I currently am in.  Something is better than nothing. 

Now if only I could be OCD about walking like I can be about smoking...