I’m sitting in Hanover again, with Uri and Mike this time. Uri flew east yesterday for our grandparents’ funeral, so he’s around for the next ten days. He brought his laptop this time, so we’re both getting some writing done, sitting at Collis. On Uri’s computer, iTunes is playing Below the Salt, a band we saw out in Seattle. It’s interesting stuff, a strange combination of jazz and hillbilly; laid back with a simple groove, a mishmash of upright bass, accordian, and musical saw. Totally worth looking into, assuming you can find it.

I’ve discovered that lately I have a strong aversion to hanging out with groups of people. More than two or three people and I simply lose interest in the situation, and want to go elsewhere. It’s like the more people around, the more I become exponentially more anti-social. I’m just more interested in actual dialogue right now, which is more likely in a one on one situation than it is in a group dynamic. I want to talk to people about what they are passionate about, what they care about, what they think about. I simply can’t bring myself to care about the inane little bullshit like what Buffy was wearing at the Yacht Club last week or how drunk you got last night. If you can’t make it to relate to your enlightenment, why are you talking about it? What does it bring to the table that makes it unique from the thousands of other stories exactly like it? We don’t like “reruns” in our entertainment, why should we have to accept it in our conversation?

Over the weekend, I spent some time with Mariah, leading up to her departure for Option. That was fantastic — she and I talked a lot about what was going on, and just in general had a really great time together. That lead really well into Sunday, when Mike and I were hanging out in Hanover, and randomly started talking to someone walking by. It turns out that her name is Jasmine, and she’s a graduate student at Dartmouth, studying organic electrochemistry. Let me just say that I think she’s awesome. I’m very glad to have met her, and look forward to spending more time with her in the not too distant future. She lives life passionately and genuinely, and it’s a breath of fresh air that I really value.

The house in theory is going on the market today. Mickey has been stressed about it, and I feel kind of bad about not being around to help with preparations, to spread the stress across an extra set of shoulders so to speak, but there is really very little I can do from here beyond lending an ear. I hope she knows that she is welcome to call and vent any time she needs to. I don’t really have anything else I can offer.

Thursday, UPS is finally sending an inspector to check out the monitors that were damaged in the move. For the record, from the date they called to confirm that I needed an on-site inspection (“Someone will call you in the next 24 hours to set up an appointment”), it was fully a week and a half until they called to set up an appointment, which was nearly a full week after that. I am very frustrated with this process, and if they try to dick me around on recompense over my damaged, insured items, I have absolutely no qualms filing a complaint with the BBB. I’m sincerely hoping that it won’t come to that, though.