monday february 12 2001    |    12:19 a.m.

the best part of the weekend was spent in her company, eating quality food at the deli, smoking cigarette after cigarette at the kenyon inn and talking music, and most things in between.

the second-best part of the weekend, honestly, was spent asleep. fleeting dream of mike t_, which is probably my subconscious mind's way of telling me i need to write him that long-overdue e-mail.

the instinct to hole myself up in my room and stay there is back in full effect. apparently the weekend wasn't enough. i think i need a significant break from the routine, but i don't know what exactly. maybe losing myself in the crowd for a while, as much as you can possibly lose yourself in a perpetual crowdlet of 1500.

radio show tomorrow at 8, traded slots with mr. muchmore himself. the day will be radio-intensive. have to continue giving adam t_ a rundown of cmj reporting, get the mail, get the office organized accordingly. and somewhere in there commit a poem to memory and study for an art history quiz.

this might be the most boring entry in recent history. not much to say. i think three different people on three different occasions have asked me today, "are you ok?" so yes, it's time to make a hasty retreat to somewhere. i'm irritated with everything.

a short list of good things, because i like happy endings:

an e-mail from you. clean sheets. more e-mails from you. reminiscing with you. chocolate donuts. a three-day weekend. buying package supplies. japanese punk. good phone call home. carson g_'s radio show tomorrow. and this orange on my desk.