twenty-something

Today was the first First Day of School that I was not present for at the University of Vermont since 1999. I have been on campus, either as student or staff, for the past six openings. That's either very impressive or pretty pathetic -- I'll let you decide which.

Thinking about the occasion from my East Village apartment today, I got nostalgic and a little sad. I wasn't there. Opening happened without me. The kiddies are reuniting and I'm not there to watch. My old co-workers are all stressed out and commiserating -- and I'm not there to join in.

Then I got to thinking about all the people that aren't there, either. Tom. Dan. Keith. Kelly. Natalie. Matt... All my friends who have moved on, too. Most of the people I cared for in my six and a half years in Burlington -- save for many co-workers and a big handful of students -- are gone. Have been for a while. And I was one of the last holdouts. And though I'm hit by some sadness when thinking of not being there, I think I'd be much more depressed if I'd stayed, facing another First Day of School without so many of the people who made UVM my home for so many years.

And then it hit me, finally -- I've really graduated. I've moved on. It's time to leave UVM firmly and positively planted in my past.

Future? Here I come.

I got a job offer yesterday. I accepted it today.

Within a month, I will be working and living in Boston.

It feels good.

Anxiety over finding an apartment? Moving stress? Bring it on.

I'm moving to Boston.

A five day visit north stretched into two weeks and a day and included a jaunt to Boston, but now I am back in Manhattan from my self-imposed Vermont exile.

The train and cab rides to my apartment were long today. But I've caught up with my roommates and with As The World Turns. I went to fill my bare cupboards with a trip the the Trader Joe's across the street. And though I'm completely, completely exhausted from the past two days of travel and little sleep, it's good to be back in the city.

For those wondering: I'm back for about two weeks. After careful consideration, I have decided to leave New York at the end of August. It's been a difficult decision. On one hand, I'm living in the East Village and, come on, how do you leave that? And, on the other, I've spent the summer here and I can check that off "The List of Things To Do Before I Die" before becoming totally broke. I could see myself back here, in a few years, with more success or stability or at least bigger bank accounts, living a more comfortable life and truly enjoying life here. And until that day, if it ever comes? Boston seems to, still, own my heart.

The future's a bit shaky and scary, but it's becoming clearer and continues to be exciting. So I plan to have fun during my last two weeks in NYC. And until I figure it all out -- life, I mean -- or age four years, I'll defer to the immortal lyrics of this blog's namesake, Jamie Cullum's "Twenty-Something":

Love ain't the answer nor is work,
The truth eludes me so much it hurts.
But I'm still having fun and I guess that's the key,
I'm a twenty something and I'll keep being me.

This morning I was watching television with my brother and sister (what else is there to do a beautiful Saturday morning?) when I was attacked by the most horrible, disgusting, and offensive ad I've ever seen.

That's right. I saw the ad for "Buzz Ballads."

Yes, from the fine folks who brought us "Monster Ballads" and "Monsters of Rock" comes "Buzz Ballads," a collection of "32 rockin' buzz ballads on 2 CDs!" Also? It's a reminder of my impending mortality.

See, "Buzz Ballads" is a collection of alt-rock mega-hits from the past twelve or so years. It reaches way back to my middle and early high school days and extends into my more recent mid-to-late college days.

Hole is on this CD. So is Live. Better Than Ezra. Bush. Tonic. Poe. Gin Blossoms. Cranberries. The Counting Crows. Toad the muthafukin' Wet Sproket.

My Lord, Tori Amos' version of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" is on here.

These were the Gods of my formative years. Once upon a time, they were my favorite artists. Now their biggest -- and, in some cases, only -- hits are packaged together with such recent trash as Lifehouse and Default.

Granted, all these songs lost what little cred they may have had years ago and have by now have become cliches. You hear half of 'em at the dentists office now. We've already been subjected to the "Livin' in the 90s" song collection and VH1's "I Love The 90s" (twice), but still -- there was some shred of hope and dignity I could hold onto with this music. And now that's gone.

Why? I remember it distinctly. I was a Freshman in college, at the University of Rhode Island in 1999. It was Oozeball Weekend, a fact that will mean nothing to most in my reading audience. And on TV came an add for a little collection called "Monster Ballads." Finally you could get "Every Rose Has It's Thorn," "More Than Words," and "The Flame" in the same two-disc set!

We sang along. I went on Napster. I downloaded "High Enough" by Damn Yankees. I played it in WinAmp and I labeled the genre "80s Cheese."

Today, as my sister sang along with "Doll Parts," like it was the latest Ashlee Simpson single. She then asked me if I had it on my iTunes. She wanted it on her iPod.

If she was as anal about labeling her music as I am, she'd probably file it under "90s Cheese."

I died a little inside.

This is some of the music I came of age to, with. And now I realize I've passed into my mid-to-late mid-twenties. This is just wrong.

So that settles it. I'm done. Done trying to stay in the loop, trying to be hip. I'm deleting my music collection. I'm going to throw out my iPod and switch back to PC. Hell, maybe I'll even marry a woman. Any edginess from my youth is now packaged into a two-disc direct market collection with a horrible title. It's time I started listening to Top 40 radio anyway.

My life is over.

Sublime and Candlebox are on the same CD as Staind and Everlast? I mean - come on.

Remember: he's fifteen. And he's my brother. So back off.