18 july 01

I was going to write a Mute about my weekend. The Brooklyn Anchorage, Coney Island, the story of the "what's on your mind" guys in my neighborhood and how I found my latest book recommendation. It just didn't happen though, and now it's wednesday. Today is the first day of my vacation, and I haven't made any plans to travel. I'm behind in answering my email and phone messages, I'm behind in paying my bills, and I have a website to design and build by the end of the month. So I'm going to stay home and get some work done, and maybe go to some museums, and ride my bike, and read, and generally catch up with stuff. A few days ago I received the third email from a high school friend that says, essentially, "I read mute all the time so I feel like I know what's going on with you." I realized the other day that I haven't written in my journal in months and months. There are a handful of entries in March, two in May, and nothing since then. What I write in Mute is stuff that would almost never make it into my journal...I don't bother with what I did over the weekend or events I attend or things that happen. I write about the other stuff, the stuff that I don't write in Mute. It's a shame that I can't seem to do both. Maybe during this vacation I can do some journal writing. The journal doesn't have an audience and is not any kind of obligation, which Mute is, in a way.