One of my sisters is a party girl. She gets very drunk fairly often, but in the "I'm in my mid-twenties, it's coo'" sense. She also used to be very lax with the softer drugs, clearly she'd tried half of them. Now she's graduating from her psychology course, and she KNOWS man, she just KNOWS that everything you put into your bodies will kill you. A single great aunt with schizophrenia is a family history. She's seen all the articles and her professors tell her that casual use of anything will get you a swift kick in the balls from God, and my god she's a condescending hypocrite.
My eldest sister studies medicine, and she was unbearable before that. My parents barely drink wine (box wine, incidentally, but only 'cause it's cheap. They don't seem to get the idea that box wine is for getting drunk, and traditionally tastes as much like shit as possible), my grandmother died from about 40 years of pack-a-day smoking.
And... well I've started to feel a 'wanting' to keep smoking. I walk down to the park, sit down at the gazebo and have a cigarette while listening to music. Then walk around the park clockwise in a figure-eight pattern. On the latter half of the eight, tonight, I decided to have another cigarette, 'cause the first one just wasn't long enough. Considering the first few cigarettes I had were along the lines of "oh, come on, END already", I figure this is what addiction is like. It's fascinating.
