friday september 13 2002    |    1:40 a.m.

holy gods!

morrissey was just on the late late show with craig kilborn.

holy gods!

this was his first ever appearance on an american talk show. how on earth did craig, one of the least personable talking heads on tv, get a notorious recluse to break the silence? true, moz didn't say much, and what was said was mostly unintelligible anyway (half mumble, half cockney). but still -- morrissey! turns out he lives some five blocks away from the studio, in what used to be clark gable's house. unreal. all this time i pictured him in some starkly beautiful british country manse, or something equally strangeways-esque. but no, here he is among mere mortals, spending days in bed zapping through tv stations, cringing at american idol, and, for goodness' sake, describing himself as "positive" and "happy." who shall i grieve with now?

unbelievable. i couldn't tear myself away to call denise & johnny until the commercial break, and then it was like old times, "what station? what's on right now? oh my god . . . what is he like? will he sing?" as the channels get changed, and well, it's almost like old times.

all this nostalgia is making me nauseous, and i can't help it.

anyway, excuse me, i am terribly terribly exhausted and I JUST WATCHED MORRISSEY on television.

in other news: i got a raise. my friend d____ got fired and i might be getting his old position and i really need to get out of there. the boy is getting a hand-me-down vespa. i made a friend and potential music buddy at work today over this magazine. i wrote a song (but now it needs words). i cannot cannot cannot manage my time effectively. patrick is in jamaica. quitting smoking cold turkey was a lot harder and more unrealistic than previously thought. i have now eaten on the top floor of the van dyke, next to the stage, overlooking lincoln. beginning to feel less trapped, more disconnected. going back to the strummy rock n roll music.