ESL970G Advanced Grammar and Editing with Marsha Chan
Directions,
Part 1
Print this page. Read the article to get a general understanding
of the content. Read it again and use a yellow highlighter to mark the dependent
clauses:
(a) adverb clauses
(b) noun clauses
(c) relative (adjective or adverb) clauses.
Then click on the link to Part 2 at the bottom of the page.
WHERE'S THE MIRACLE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN WHEN I QUIT?
Posted on Sun, Apr. 17, 2005 http://www.mercurynews.com/mld/mercurynews/news/editorial/11417227.htm
Mercury News editor Michelle Guido is still waiting for the benefits of a smoke-free life to kick in.
A PERSONAL VIEW
By Michelle Guido
I don't remember my first cigarette. I don't even have a strong memory of my last cigarette 15 weeks ago. But I know that I loved smoking, and I miss it every day. I want one right now, in fact.
I quit because I'm not an idiot -- I know it's not healthy. Most smokers do. And my biological clock just won't get off my back; I know that I shouldn't be a smoker and plan to have a baby. I'm aware of all the risks associated with smoking. And they scare me.
But I expected something miraculous to happen the moment I stopped lighting up.
People told me how much better I would feel, only I didn't feel bad before. They said food would taste better, but I haven't noticed a marked difference. They said I would smell better, and on that score they're right. But when you're a smoker, you don't realize that you smell bad -- and you learn ways to compensate: cologne in the purse, gum at the ready. So in terms of benefit, that one has really felt like a wash.
Frankly, I expected to gain lung capacity -- and that hallmark self-righteousness of former smokers -- overnight. But that didn't happen, either.
When I started smoking in college 18 years ago, more of my friends smoked than not. Now I can count on two hands the number of smokers in my circle of friends and acquaintances. And among my closest friends, I was the only remaining full-time smoker.
I didn't quit because of the growing hostility toward smokers. That's even taken hold in Italy -- Italy! -- which in January banned smoking in all enclosed public places, becoming the third European country, after Ireland and Norway, to do so. But here in California, it's been seven years since we've been able to light up in bars and restaurants.
I know it's been only a short time since I stopped my pack-a-day habit, but I'm less proud of myself for quitting than I am fixated on what I've lost.
I haven't hung out with my smoking buddies at work since January, so I feel isolated. Because the smoking area is a patio off the cafeteria, I stay away from the cafeteria altogether, cutting down on the possibility of interacting with smokers, and thus, temptation. But that leaves me doubly isolated because the cafeteria is where I could hang with non-smoking co-workers.
I'm still afraid to take long car trips, because I loved smoking and driving. I quit coffee before I quit cigarettes because I loved to smoke while I drank coffee. And believe it or not, I closely associated smoking with cleaning house. So my house and my life seem more out of control than before.
My boyfriend is one of those rare people who can smoke occasionally -- a cigarette a week, or one a month. He doesn't smoke around me anymore, but I'm envious of him. If I could smoke like that I would never, ever quit. That's how much I loved it.
The hardest thing about quitting for me has proved to be finding other ways to deal with stress and other excuses to take a break from work. I used to take a 15-minute smoke break about every two hours. Now I frequently sit at my desk for five or six hours without a break. That can't be healthy.
And because smoking was my preferred method of stress relief at work, I'm now in a perpetual state of anxiety and rage. Before, I could remove myself from a stressful situation, or prepare for the stress of deadline, by going outside for a smoke -- and it worked. After a cigarette, I was less stressed, more able to concentrate. At least it felt that way.
Now my head feels like it's going to explode when stressful situations come up at work. I feel like I'm going to have a stroke every day, even though I never felt that way as a smoker, when the risk was highest.
So what have I gained since quitting, you ask? Fifteen pounds.
I realize that my life will be healthier because I've quit. And I have noticed some subtle changes. My teeth are whiter, and, well, I'm vain, so that's a good thing. I don't feel like I'm going to die after 20 minutes on the StairMaster anymore; now I can make it to 30 minutes without wanting to die. And at 37, I no longer have to hide my smoking habit from my mother, who -- until she reads this -- never knew I was a smoker.
I'm still struggling every day to keep from lighting up. I was visiting my mom in Florida a month after I quit when I had an epiphany. I had a spontaneous coughing fit, brought on by dust in her garage. And I realized I hadn't coughed -- at all -- in nearly four weeks.
I think of that sometimes when I'm tempted. But for everyone's sake, I hope the ``reformed smoker'' righteousness never sets in, because I never liked those folks before, and I certainly don't want to become one now