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November 18, 2007
Contrary to what I assumed would be my parents’ wishes, I tried smoking. It looked like an easy way to meet people and talk to them. “Can I bum a smoke?” “Sure, need a light?” “Thanks.” And so on.

The results were disastrous. I coughed and gagged nearly to the point of vomiting. Unfortunately, I had so committed myself to the idea of smoking that I bought an entire carton of cigarettes. Rather than throw them away, I brought them to work to give to whomever wanted them. “You smoke, Yul?”

“No. My father’s trying to quit.”

“Yul, you’re allright.”