I walked out of my office around 6 yesterday, into the shitty, windy weather. I saw three umbrellas lying broken on the ground. I took a look at my umbrella and said to it, "That's not going to be you boy, right? You're tougher than that."

Forty-five seconds later, my umbrella was broken in two places. It died a miserable death, shoved into a garbage can on the street corner, along with other cheaply made umbrellas. I didn't shed a tear, though, for it was Kerri Mahoney's umbrella that she had left at my house three months ago. I had no serious emotional attachment to it. I'll have to send her the bad news today, though.

For some reason I hauled my ass out of my apartment back into that weather later on that night. Ah yes! I remember why. To meet newly non-smoking indie rock boy Matt for drinks. (Do you think anyone should have that many descriptive terms in front of their name? I could add a few more for Matt, but I won't.)

We talked about our love lives (or lack thereof), and dating services, and non-smoking, and movies, and lots of other interesting things that made me act in an animated fashion. I was high on life, baby. I was sitting in a smoky bar, and I wasn't smoking. Insane.

I've noticed the past two times I've gone out that I have little desire to drink if I'm not smoking. I had one beer and one shot of jack over two hours last night. I think it's fair to say it's usually double that amount. I'm very curious to see the overall repercussions non-smoking will have on all parts of my life.

Later Matt went on an anti-irony rant, specifically against David Foster Wallace and McSweeneys, spurred on by a recent piece by Wallace in Harpers. He made me laugh so hard I had to scribble his words down on a crumpled piece of paper I found in the bottom of my purse:

"David Foster Wallace and that McSweeneys crowd can jump in a smug-ass boat and sink."

Matt had a little bit more than I did to drink.

I sometimes like McSweeneys, but I never like Wallace, myself. He likes to cloud things up with big words that most people don't understand. Yes, I just said that, and yes, I think it's true.

Art should not make people feel uneducated, unimportant, or undesirable. Art should make people feel invited.

Just before 11 we left. The rain had stopped. I walked home in the moist air and I almost smelled the sea, I swear. I wore my hair in braids on either side of my head. It's getting long enough to do that. In the summer, I'm going to wear my hair that way all the time.

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