Julia Roberts and the Fag in Her Gob

So, I'm watching My Best Friend's Wedding tonight (I'm a sucker for romantic movies - so shoot me...)

Julia Roberts is, at certain times, quite beautiful. I can smell the Marlboro on her. You know, the Marlboro she shakes out of a packet at certain times of stress as if the rest of the time she can just ignore it.

When she smokes a cigarette, however, as if by some olfactory magic my living room fills with sweet cigarette smoke. Her body becomes wreathed in it. The smoke is sweet, and my desire to smoke strong. When Dermot Mulroney takes her in his arms, just after she has been sitting outside his bedroom door, smoking, I imagine for a moment how she would smell, at that moment, and for that moment I imagine the smoke now gone that lingers about her, how her long, red, curly hair, would smell of cigarette smoke.

And some people think this addiction is easy to beat.

Two weeks, five days, 19 hours, 37 minutes and 49 seconds. 594 cigarettes not smoked, saving £163.49. Life saved: 2 days, 1 hour, 30 minutes.