WELCOME TO WEIR'S WORLD.

Byline: PAUL OBERJUERGE

TURIN, Italy - Johnny Weir is precious. In every possible way.

He's a showman, an artiste, an athlete. He's flamboyant and opinionated. And he is never, ever dull. By himself ... well, along with Evgeni Plushenko ... he makes the men's skating competition must-see Olympic TV.

Weir ran through an elegant short program at the Turin Games on Tuesday, heaved a sigh of relief and came off the ice to declare, ``It's over. It's done. It's Valentine's Day. I can buy myself some chocolates and roses.''

Weir would be leading this thing if not for Plushenko, who scored a ridiculous 90.66 points on his short program. Weir was second, a distant second, with 80.00.

``I missed Plushenko,'' Weir said. ``I was on the bus when he skated. I looked at the leader board to see where we were in the running order and I said, 'Oh, my God.' Ninety points in one program? It's wild. I didn't think anyone would get past the 80s.''

That leaves Weir skating for the silver. Which is fine by him. He's just happy not to have imploded. Considering this is his first Olympics ... he is still not comfortable with his spartan accommodations at the Athletes Village ... and he's a bit of a drama queen.

Last week he equated staying at the Village to ``camping,'' describing his tastes as ``princessy.''

``It's dirty,'' he said of his room. ``I've mopped the floor myself.''

And the Olympics? A bigger deal even than this super trouper expected.

``I've tried very hard not to let the Olympics affect me,'' he said. ``But it is hard. There are the Olympic rings everywhere, so many reporters, so many people staring at you, it's hard not to get caught up in it.

``I go to check my e-mail in the Internet lounge and I have, like, 70 e-mails in one day, people sending me all the articles online that say crazy things about me or praising me or not praising me. It's very strange. It's on a much bigger scale than any competition I've ever been in.''

Weir has won three consecutive national championships, but this is his first Big Show. He said he felt lethargic Tuesday, slept most of the day, got up late and ate ``two blood oranges'' before competing.

He evaluated his performance as indifferent, not nearly as good as his short program at the U.S. Championships last month. But it was hard to see what he didn't like.

He landed all four triple-jumps, was a marvel in his footwork and spins and was duly rewarded with the highest score of his short-program career. ``Judges are starting to understand who I am and what I'm about,'' he suggested.

Only the very elite of men's skating can interpret their program as well as perform it; Weir is one of them. The kid from Newark, Del., actually did look like a fluttering swan while skating to Saint-Saens' Carnival of the Animals.

Weir wears a swan-like glove on one hand. He calls it Camille - the name of The Swan in Saint-Saens' music. He stuck ``Camille'' in the air and had it say hello before talking to reporters late Tuesday at the Palavela arena.

``This costume weighs as much as I do, by the way,'' he announced of his sequin-spattered outfit. ``I'm really excited to do well and get it out of the way. It's so heavy. The beading, and it's like three layers deep.''

He pulled the outfit away from his neck and turned it inside out. ``There's like a flesh layer there, and then the lycra, and then all these little materials on top, and the rhinestones.''

Weir is a self-described fashionista, but he didn't design the outfit himself. ``A friend of (choreographer) Tatiana (Tarasova) designed it, and then she helped me with these molting blue feathers all the way down this arm.

``On top of the fishnet,'' he confided, ``so I thought it was a little much.''

Weir routinely is described as colorful, often for the utterly random things that come out of his mouth. In the past he has described costumes he has worn as ``an icicle on coke'' and ``a Care Bear on acid.''

After an enthusiastic response for a competitor at the nationals, Weir described the crowd reaction as ``a vodka-shot, let's-snort-coke kind of thing.''

He once scolded a reporter who described a bit of apparel as a boa. ``That was a chinchilla,'' he said, ``not a boa. Dead chinchilla, not feathers.''

Asked if a potential role model ought to make references to drugs and alcohol, Weir recently said, ``I don't think there should be one role model for all kids. I want to be a role model for kids who feel different and stifled, kids that I was like, kids who feel like they can't say what they want.

``I'm not for everyone.''

Well, he is if you are a skate fan.

Weir's one failing is the quadruple jump; he never has landed one in competition, and it hurts him under the new scoring system.

He might throw a quad into the free skate Thursday. It will be a last-minute decision.

``It's something I've trained on every day,'' he said. ``Putting it in, not putting it in. It's going to be one of those things I decide at the last minute.

``I could very likely wake up and feel horrible, like Nick Nolte's mug shot. If I feel like that, no quad!''

Quad or otherwise, Johnny will deliver a precious memory. Count on it.

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Photo:

(color) The United States' Johnny Weir performs a flying spin during Tuesday's short program, in which he finished second.

Eric Gay/Associated Press