Reminiscing over my old ensemble (or more exactly quartet) music over the past week, I have a good feeling for what I’m missing.

I’m missing that connection with someone. The one that makes me feel like a person. That makes me feel like there are others out there like music. That listen to music like me. That watch shows like me. That play games like me. That read books like me. That share of piece of what makes me me, in what makes them them.

My quartet music exemplified that. I played music with people that could feel, move within, anticipate, and feel that emotion and passion within the medium. I crave someone who shares some of those aspects with myself. I crave someone who delights in musical tastes like myself. Who can lay on the floor or cook and bounce/dance to the music like I do.

I crave someone who loves the suspense that I read. Someone I can share my literary conspiracy theories with.

I crave someone who shares my passion for tinkering with things. Loves to understand how things work. Wants to pick something apart and put it back together to learn. Contemplate. Coherently incorporate.

I’d love to have people to fill each of those niches, if not more than one.

More than that, I want someone to fill some of those, and almost understand how I think. I can’t believe I’d ever believe that at first (sooooooooooo hard to believe people share my ideals/morals/way-of-looking-at-life), but I want to connect. Know that I’m not so ridiculously unique that people can’t connect.

I guess I don’t know how to describe it any further. I’m inebriated with mind-altering alcohol. I heard too much pensive music. I observed people making their typical maneuvers through daily life. I lost another part of that uniqueness I strive to identify and grasp onto every day.

I really should sober up. I’m no good this inebriated.

In regards to this article at the Buffalo News, Rapist attacks girl passed out at motel, I was making a remark about this to the colleague graduate student in my lab.

“Seriously. Under age, drinking to intoxication, and then passing out at some cheap motel. Getting raped is just like the cherry on top of the sundae of bad mistakes.
*thinks about what I just said for twenty seconds*

Maybe I need a quote board of the stupid things I say.

  • October 2nd – Just found out about. Reeeeeeally want to go.
  • Completely undecided yet. Have to find Soundlab first.
  • October 3rd – BPO Opening Night. *drools* ‘Nuff said?
  • October 17th – BPO’s Rachmaninoff piano concerto. Looking forward to this!
  • October 21st – Andrew Bird featuring St. Vincent. Omgomgomgomgomgomg… Seriously, yes, I’m giddy about this one. As pumped about this as I am about the BPO opener, if not moreso.
  • October 27th – The Get Up Kids. Been a fan of them since around 1999 I think? Unfortunately haven’t listened to any of their new music since, but I’m really curious to see them in concert.

    In other random stuff, football party plans appear to be flopping for Sunday. I will have a person over, maybe another two. Maybe I should plan for something a tad earlier, although I thought everyone in this town was all about the spontaneity? *sighs* I suppose it is a home game; that didn’t help.

    Forethought man, forethought!

  • Nothing special here, just a random update on life as I attempt (for the X37th time) to make a better mental attempt to use this. I started it, time to go with it some more. Let it evolve somewhere along the way, perhaps? This one is a little long, so steer away unless you’re bored!

    Getting into a routine still has not been terribly easy. My friend Rob and I make our weekly visit to The Place on either Tuesday or Wednesday (seems to be Wednesdays, mostly) for some Spaten (I didn’t realize I would like their Oktoberfest!) and Shock Top (which I shockingly just discovered is a Michelob, shows how lousy of a beer snob I am) with some delicious food. I have a hard time saying no to the delicious clams casino (I need to try the steamed clams) or their enormous club. Seriously. First night I ever ate there, I could only eat half of the sandwich. I took the other half home. And then drank my ass off, but that was another story.

    Anyways, Wednesday at The Place ends up 50% of the time continuing drinking elsewhere, most often the Thirsty Buffalo as of late. I’m sure we’ll end up somewhere else one of these weeks, but we seem to amusing the other bar-goers every time we’re in there. Don’t ask.

    Monday and Thursday nights are likely resorted to network television now. I’m a big fan of 30 Rock, Heroes and House, and getting into Community, Parks & Recreation and The Office as of late. The Office I was disappointed with in their first couple seasons after watching the British series by Rickey Gervais, but the later seasons of the US version seem to have established some redeemable humor in my eyes. In addition to those, I’m trying to finish off my complete series of Arrested Development on DVD, as I’ve still not gotten around to finishing it!

    Cleaning comes along whenever I remember to motivate myself to do it. I cannot say I’m the most energetically productive person by the end of the workday, but I can be fairly productive if I jump right on it. It has a tendency to cut into my ambition to cook, and so it becomes a nice back and forth struggle over “to clean” vs “to cook.” Unless it’s laundry. Laundry was soooo convenient having my own washer and dryer before moving. My new place has no hookups for that. I now have to frequent a laundromat again. Boo!

    I’ve told myself I’m going to cook at least one (if not two) new dishes each week. My life will be boring enough for a while without me further inflicting any other lack of novelty on a day to day basis! I’ve got two huge cookbooks that were meant to exercise my mental craving for cooking. This week’s dish: swiss chard au gratin!

    Living with hardwood floors is a change. I need to get into a habit of vacuuming and mopping. And not letting sharp unviewables make it onto the floor. I’ve impaled my right (yes, only the right) foot three times with fragments of staples from furniture packaging. I have since vacuumed thoroughly in an attempt to avoid this happening ever again.

    Computer desk is clean. Dishes are done. Dining room table is clean. Bathroom is scrubbed. Floors need to be vacuumed and maybe mopped. Friends were entertaining the thought of me hosting Sunday football viewing here this weekend. It will be the first “real” company I will have had over since I have gotten moved in and settled (besides Holly stopping by for an item or two). I feel kind of embarrassed that I have no couch for sitting on yet (only a recliner and a papasan chair right now), but they’ve been forewarned so they know what they’re getting!

    A ballet studio of sorts has opened across the corner from my place. I actually have a pretty good view in through one of the windows, such that I can watch women in tight, black unitards walk/dance around on the balls of their feet. I’d be more enthusiastic about that thought, but after a couple glances most of the women in there are on the “little too thin” side of my tastes. Regardless, it’s sort of interesting to see what they do for routines vs movie-based depictions I’ve seen on the big screen. I’d tell you the differences if I knew what they were!

    I was walking through Delaware Park this morning on my way (rather late I might add) to see UB’s opening girls rugby match against Pitt this morning when I overheard the following conversation.

    A woman is helping a two or three year old boy (presumably her son) pee against a tree in the park, a little less than inconspicuously.
    Little boy on the swings: Mommy, you never let me do that!”
    Woman helping the boy pee: “That’s because I don’t like doing this!

    I chuckled at that situation for another good five minutes as I continued to try to find the field where the rugby game was. Ahhh, naivety, such bliss!

    Unfortunately, it appeared as though the UB girls did not win against Pitt. At least if they did, they scored considerably more times prior to my thirty-minute late arrival than Pitt did since I arrived. Here’s Pitt grounding their last try before the end of the game: