contemplating;;

I am still trying to wrap my mind around much cigarette smoke I inhaled last night.

I put myself in an unknowingly uncomfortable position, and as much as I'd love an excuse to rail against the Florida smoking laws, I opted to stay in a smoky venue for 3+ hours. Shame on me.

It's an all-encompassing frustration, though. It's not just the cigarettes, or the spilled beer on my shirt, or that guy behind me who kept apologizing for almost catching my hair on fire with his joint, it's that in a normal situation, if I was healthy, I would be laughing about last night, instead of in a near panic about my lung function. The crowd was riotous, no doubt, but nothing that I wouldn't expect from such a show. The pit was insane and it took a lot of effort by my petite self to stay afloat and find a safe corner. That's normal. And fun! And to be expected. I love shows like that.

...but cigarettes?

This is what I try so hard to avoid, I rally so hard against, and here I was, two+ hours from home with a girl who flew from Massachusetts to see this show, and a venue with no re-entry.

I'm swimming against the tide on this one. Smoking might be too big for me to handle.