vent...ilation.

Okay, so, I admit this is largely my own fault.

When I was apartment/roommate hunting, I was in a bit of a rush. I know that turnover rates in New York are crazy and one must therefore make haste in deciding. So when I found a place that was affordable, had a big kitchen, and a seemingly cool, employed roommate, I took it.

It was the day I arrived with all my belongings that I looked at my mother and asked despairingly, "Do you smell smoke?" It was faint and untraceable. There were no signs of ashtrays or lighters, so I dismissed it as a fluke. Within days, I realized I'd made a horrible assumption. Just because my roommate did not inform me that she smoked, it didn't mean she didn't.

On the other hand, I never asked. But when I looked at the place and met her and there were no indications of it, it seemed safe to me. It didn't occur to me to ask about something that isn't "standard" to begin with. In my eyes, NOT smoking is the default. And why would a 20-something-year-old have a nicotine addiction? What kind of kid that age smokes in these days of warnings and advisories and enraging statistics? Idiots only.

So, for those of you who don't know--I HATE CIGARETTE SMOKE. It makes my eyes itch, it makes my hair and clothes smell terrible, and it just generally disgusts me...not to mention the ill health affects. I don't care if people smoke; it's your prerogative to do whatever you want. But don't force ME to partake in it. It's up there on my list with Jehova's Witnesses going door to door to try to suck me into their cult. GET OUT OF MY FACE.

So now here I am, 4 months into a 12-month lease, and a prisoner of my bedroom. My roommate quit her job (for no good reason), has not found another one, has no money to pay her bills (but Daddy saves her), and has fallen into a depression. This, you see, encourages her smoking--IN the house--because she is miserable and home all the time. But being the helpless dope that she is, she has (guy) friends who buy things for her, including cartons of fucking cigarettes that cost $85!! They are at her side whenever she needs one. Faaaantastic.

And yes, I HAVE told her I dislike it. I told her to please make sure my bedroom door is always closed. I've asked her not to wash her dirty ashtrays with the same sponge that I wash my forks and spoons. I've made it clear that I don't like it but I am getting close to a breaking point. I do not pay $1000 a month to hide in my bedroom. This must come to a stop. Like...now. It's coming in under the bottom of my bedroom door.

So you smokers out there, ponder this: YOU have the choice to smoke just as much as I have the choice not to. I know you are pissed off that cities and towns are starting to kick you out of bars and restaurants, but I say GOOD RIDDANCE. I can eat and drink in peace again, and you can go outside in the rain and snow and wonder if your habit is really worth it. But so help me, if I ask you to get away from me so I don't have to breathe your toxic fumes, you better well do it.

How would YOU feel if I got in the car with you and just started farting disgusting noxious fumes, and you had to smell them? You want to get away so I crack a window, just to feign politeness. But it doesn't do the trick. I just keep farting and farting, and you have to keep inhaling it. Pretty fucking gross, don't you think? The difference is, my farts won't char your lungs. That, and I'd never be so rude as to force someone into that situation.

Put out the goddam cigarettes people.