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I feel like, before I pack up my computer and return to school, this break needs to be summed up. Something about it was particularly relaxing, and it's not merely the fact that I didn't do a damn thing all five weeks I had off. Or maybe it is and it just doesn't feel like it. We had two o'clock breakfasts and milk shakes at Mickey's, battled through marathon round robin nine ball tourneys, and counted down from thirty on New Year's Eve. We kicked off oh-five in stunning form, watching what may be the raddest movie of all time. The half-ass high-class party was a definite hit, and seeing the boy put the bookend on six years of Pitman-less musicals at Capitol Hill was especially sweet. My girlfriend drove for hours to see me, which, considering the fact that I am, by no real, palpable means a "catch," made me feel incredibly good. I read books and watched the entire Freaks & Geeks, inquiring, at the end of every episode, "why was this show cancelled?"

My ride (Cale) is here, now, so it's time to unplug the computer and traverse the tundra (It snowed nine-some inches last night) to squalid surroundings and academic dealings.

Obviously, there's been little for me to say of late.

Today, though, the good folks in Tennessee and Kansas provided me with new salivatory fare: Bonnaroo, Wakarusa.

Before the announcement, I was on the fence, but have now all but decided that another Summer road trip, hopefully matching the grandeur of last year's, is in order. Likely, also, will be trips to the Big Wu Family Reunion and Winnipeg Folk Festival.

Suddenly, Summer doesn't seem so far away. I can already feel the sun on my face.

I was up all night watching Freaks & Geeks, so, even though it was actually yesterday, this still counts as the first of the New Year for me.

But now that I've finished the set, and have decided to take a break between discs two and three of Batman: The Animated Series, I'm free to endorse the new year's onset. Hard to believe this decade, so shiny and new what felt like just moments ago, is now aging, and tarnished, and... half-gone.

Whoa.

And... The Styx record in the jukebox at Mickey's Diner won't work. I've been screwed out of approximately thirty-three cents—and Come Sail Away—on three separate occasions over the course of the past four nights.