Reading on is a big waste of time (you can’t say I didn’t warn you)

Living in my parents’ house as a college grad isn’t as bad as its negative connotation. In many ways, it’s been even better than my experience living at college or on my own over the past few summers: rent-free, mostly free food, free HD television, no cleaning up after the dog in the yard, etc. At about seven weeks now, this has been the longest span I’ve spent at home since the summer between my freshman and sophomore years.

Really, I just miss living with and amongst people my own age, people who have similar habits when it comes to socializing, bedtimes, video game-playing and television-watching.

For Buffalo sports fans: A long-winded diatribe, followed by a modest proposal

I sometimes wonder if the sports gods just really love messing with us. By “us,” I’m talking about Buffalo sports fans. Think about it. In the past year, we’ve watched:

• an overhyped 4-0 Bills team lose their starting quarterback and the ability to win.
• Dick Jauron receive a three-year extension (three years!) (THREE YEARS!).
• the Sabres trot out another wimpy, speed-and-finesse-based team, while all indications from around the NHL pointed toward the game becoming more defense- and size-oriented.
• Sabres management assuring us that said team was built for a Stanley Cup run.
• an excrutiating Monday Night Football loss to the hapless Cleveland Browns, on an impossible last-second field goal by a mediocre kicker.
• the Bills play a “home game” (against the archrival Miami Dolphins, I should add) in Toronto, a city rumored to be the franchise’s future home.
• an injury to Sabres goalie Ryan Miller derail any playoff hopes.
• the hated Boston Bruins and Miami Dolphins turn things around much faster than we Buffalonians have come to believe possible.
• our Pittsburgh foes celebrate world championships five months apart in our two professional teams’ sports, and then, maybe even worse, had to listen to our Pittsburgh-fan friends gloat about it.
• fellow Bills fans scoop up season tickets at the same levels as the Super Bowl years because the team, in a brilliant marketing move (believe me, I can’t believe I’m using the word “brilliant” to describe an action of Bills management), signed a single player, the outspoken wide receiver Terrell Owens.
• our Bills manhandle an obviously better New England Patriots team during a nationally televised MNF game, giving us even more false hope for the 2009 season, only to have everything unravel with a kickoff-return fumble.
• Dick Jauron and Russ Brandon keep their jobs, despite another 7-9 season, then a 1-4 start to the 2009 season that has left no hope for success in the near (or far) future.
• the Bills’ 91-year-old owner show no interest whatsoever in fielding a winning football team (I have no reservations about stating that as fact).

And that’s just off the top of my head. I’m sure, with more time and research, I could double, maybe triple, the size of this list.

Not much of substance, really

OK, so I didn’t make good on my tweeted pledge to update every day this month. Sue me. My real intention was to see if I could get any momentum going at all. It’s been a few days and I feel the need to write tonight, so that seemed to work. I could use the excuse that my D.C. hotel didn’t offer complimentary WiFi, but that would just be a lie.

A scene from a Capital weekend

My feet hurt from all the walking, but all-in-all, we spent two good days in D.C. I already miss the 80-degree weather.

Debtors to the creditor

Dear Apple: Please release the new iMac tomorrow. I’m looking forward to spending lots of money on it.

Dear New York Yankees: The Metrodome is a formidable postseason opponent. Make sure you win these first two games. And tell AJ to bring his A-game.

Dear TV Networks: You’ve got until the end of the MLB playoffs to fix this, so no rush, but can you put together some watchable shows for Tuesday night?

Dear Buffalo Bills: If you lose to Cleveland on Sunday, will you please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top fire Dick Jauron?

Dear Clothes, Toiletries and Other Assorted Trip-worthy Items: Please pack yourselves in a bag of some sort by 6 a.m. Thursday.

Dear Winter Weather: It’s only October. You can wait a month. Or, ideally, not show up at all.

Dear Vampire Weekend & Minus The Bear: Diggin’ the new tracks. Keep up the good work.

Dear Self: You’re no longer in college. It’s bed your pastime. Go to sleep.

A day’s worth of ammunition

Magic bullets:

• Grady had his big surgery day today. Judging from his behavior the past few hours, I’d say he’s feeling loopy, hungry, sleepy and a little less manly.
• Currently listening to the entire Where the Wild Things Are soundtrack, which only increases the giddiness I’ve been feeling for this movie since, oh, March?
• A few car-ride listens in, Pearl Jam gets a big thumbs-up for Backspacer. When I heard they were putting out another album, I had my reservations, even after their decent 2006 effort and Eddie Vedder’s wonderful soundtrack for Into the Wild (I mean, really, how long can grunge last?). Backspacer is spot-on, with a perfect balance of slow ballads and riff-heavy foot-tappers. I’ve learned my lesson — never doubt Eddie Vedder. Brand New and Daisy, on the other hand, continue to confound me. I hate half the album, but like the other half well enough to keep listening to it. It’s no Devil and God, or Deja Entendu, that’s for sure.

When writing is fueled by sports and emotion, you get something like this

Sometime between 4 p.m. and 7 p.m. this evening, it stopped being funny. You know, all the joking tweets and good-natured ribbing about being a Buffalo sports fan (“Man, I don’t know if I can take another three hours of Bills football,” “Even when things are going well, you know something bad is right around the corner,” etc.). It’s funny when the team goes out and plays, leaves everything on the field and still can’t come away with a victory. Endearing, even, in a “lovable losers” sort of way. But that’s not what happened today. The Buffalo Bills played 60 minutes of unimaginative, gutless football.

Now I’m just pissed.

Chasing waterfalls

Letchworth State Park Upper Falls

My Saturday’s been pretty productive, and by “pretty productive” I mean I’ve kept myself busy enough to not worry about the job situation, or lack thereof. We capped off two big cross country meets with a brief foray into New York’s Letchworth State Park, a gorgeous swath of land at the heart of the Genessee Valley. My new phone comes equipped with a 3.2 megapixel lens (about four times better than my first digital point-and-shoot camera, mind you), so I was able to get some pretty sweet shots of the Upper Falls and the Portage Viaduct, which rises a few hundred feet above it.

We’re headed camping now. Time to unplug.

In which I think a new computer might help fill a hole in my life

Internet tech sites have been all atwitter lately about an impending iMac overhaul from Apple, both to counteract Microsoft’s release of Windows 7 and to refresh the flagship desktop line before the holiday season. I, for one, can’t wait — because for once in my life, I get to be an early adopter of new technology. That’s right, folks, as soon as this new iMac is announced, I’m getting one. I was on the fence about it until my five-year-old Compaq desktop decided about three weeks ago that it would restart whenever it damn well pleases, which most of the time happens to be right when Windows XP loads (meaning I can’t do anything). I don’t know what I did to it to send it into such a frenzy, but it’s obnoxious at best. My important info is, thankfully, all backed up. (Anyone out there know what the hell is going on? Ideally, I’d like to keep the Compaq as a secondary machine, so if the problem can be fixed, I’m all ears.)

Oy.

Life at the Improv

Crazy to think that a week ago, I was resting my head in a room 15 steps from Lake Flower in Saranac Lake, N.Y. The job interview went well. I just didn’t get the job. Yes, it was a job I really wanted. Yes, it was in a place I really would’ve liked to live. I’m disappointed; life goes on, though. It was a great (albeit expensive) experience and I’m glad I had it. I just don’t like being back at Square One of Operation Findajob.

It is, however, a jungle out there, and the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I want to be a passenger on this safari. I’ve had a few hours of private brainstorming sessions: Hey, I tell myself, you’ve hardly ever done anything by the book. Why start now? And it’s a great thought, let me tell ya. A way to make money on my own and not need to jump through all these corporate hoops to even have a chance at working? Sign me up! The time is right, right? Hell, I’m already thousands of dollars in debt; why not risk a few more?

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Weird times call for weird measures. I’ve got an idea, and maybe it’s worth persuing. Maybe. I need some more time to flesh it out. When I acted in high school, the director always told us to improvise if we drew a blank or had an onstage brainfart. I don’t see why this same philosophy can’t be applied to life. I’m having a quarter-life brainfart (crisis is way too strong a word). Perhaps I should improvise.