the countdown is over

the countdown is over. if you have been reading this you know that i haven't been keeping up with my countdown of the last days of my twenties. honestly, the countdown was quite uneventful, much like the actual passing of my twenties. at 7:32 eastern daylight savings time today i became a thirty year old man, and absolutely nothing is different. i did get a cool watch from marleen, so i guess that's different. i'm not going to dwell on my new found age. i will take all the same crap i am dished out every single day, the same crap i've been dished for all these thirty years, and i will continue to whatever it is that i do.
okay, yesterday was christmas. i bought marleen a teapot. she says she likes it. i like it too. my uncle bill is visiting from atlanta with my cousin danielle. we don't see him very often, and i never met her until yesterday. it was fun, and the food was delicious. i really need to go to the gym. i'm feeling quite like a beached whale. i guess i'll have plenty of time to work out next week since i'm being forced to take vacation. i will not go off on my rage about vacation today. i know i'm dumb for caring so much.
i'm going to go now. i'll try to update some later, but my time is spoken for. it's been a busy holiday season.

regards,
jim turbert

i've calmed down

i'm in brooklyn right now. i'm going to connecticut to hang out with my family in an hour or so. i only have a few more days until i am 30. i am not as apprehensive about my birthday as i once thought i would be. it will come and go like any other day. the only activity i have planned for the 26th is driving to boston from winsted, connecticut. doesn't that sound exciting. maybe i'll watch a movie too.
i'm having a party next week on friday. andrew whitehead and i are turning thirty during the same week, and he's coming up to boston, and we will party down like thirty year old guys do. it's going to be crazy. you should come. if you know my number, give me a call, and i'll tell you the details.

best,
jim

i need to calm down

let's talk about work for a second. i'm being forced to take vacation time that i have earned so that wellesley college can save some money. officially, no has said anything about saving money, and i'm still not sure how they would save money by forcing me to take vacation, but that's another story for some economist somewhere to tell.
here are the facts. i was told that i was given ample time to make vacation plans for that time. i was also told that there was no reason for me or any person from my department to be on campus between christmas and new years "-particularly without supervision." the "particularly without supervision" part is what really gets me. december 17th was my fourth anniversary at wellesley college. when i was hired in 2001 i was asked when i would like to start. i suggested that after the holidays would be a good time. i was encouraged to start as soon as possible so i could learn some stuff. that week i found out that i would be staying on campus the week between christmas and new years because someone from IS needed to be there in case something went wrong, or in case someone needed some support. no one needed support. if they did need support, i don't have any idea what the fuck i would have done, because i'd only been on the job for a week, and i didn't know anything. wellesley and it's information services department saw fit to leave me, with my entire week of experience, as their safety net. a mere four years later, the college's/IS's policies have changed so much that they don't trust people to work unsupervised anymore. they trusted a guy they didn't even know to hold down the fort, but they don't trust the same guy to do the same thing four years later. i'm not sure if that says something about me, or something about them, but it doesn't feel right. no one is giving a real explanation for why the college is so anxious for us to take our vacation time. i know that they don't want to "give" us those days off because it will piss off the union. it seems that this way, the only person they piss off is me, which is a small price to pay, considering most of them never have to see me or talk to me.
i'm not asking for days off. i don't want to be coddled and told how much i'm appreciated either. it's all bullshit. i want some control over the vacation hours that i have earned. i don't want the college to "ask" me if i could please take vacation when they really mean, "you will take your vacation, and i have no respect for your pathetic peasant ass." i hear you loud and clear wellesley/IS. you are a bunch of shifty thieves, and i am unfortunately beholden to you because i need my paycheck. i will continue to take that paycheck as long as i need it, but there is no rule anywhere that says i have to be happy about it. merry fucking holidays.

sincerely,
jim turbert

lackadaisical webloggery

it seems that i have reverted to my old ways of infrequent updates and lackadaisical webloggery. i can tell you why if you'd care to listen. i was wicked busy yesterday. work was jam packed with EXCITEMENT, and i could hardly control myself. people were printing, others were presenting their video projects, and there was much celebration in the cage. the cage is my office which also happens to be the photo/video supply area. it's quite glamorous. i have a slew of student workers who help me with day to day cage operations, and we celebrated the end of the semester. truth be told, it was a low key affair. the whole day was pretty low key, but in an active sort of way. today promises to be less so. it's rainy and quiet, and there's no one around. i must oversee an art history exam at 1:30, but beyond that, i expect to frequently snack and practice holding my breath. i suppose i could do some cleaning, but it's much easier to do that when they leave. they are the students, of course.
last night i left wellesley at around 6:30. i stopped at trader joe's and picked up some tortilla chips and stroop waffles (a fine dutch treat that you should try today). when i got home, i assembled my fancy new two bike stand. marleen was not happy that one of my bikes was residing in our kitchen. i thought it looked good in the living room, but she deemed that unacceptable. now both of my fine cycles are neatly stacked in the back hallway. i'm sure our neighbors hate my guts, but that is okay. they will probably keep it bottled up inside, and never say anything to me about it, and that suits me fine. after that i had to go to the stupid vet to get some eye ointment for young bea. i felt so stupid sitting in the waiting room surrounded by pets with serious problems. there was a girl there whose dog ate rat poison, and a beagle who was vomiting. another couple were being briefed on how to care for an epileptic cat. the rat poison dog owner asked me what was wrong with bea, and i told her that she has pink-eye. pink-eye is not an impressive ailment. it is unimpressive, yet i had to pay $140 to be told that i should put some ointment on it, but chances are it wouldn't work. that is solid science. i love throwing my money down the drain.
today i will work. it will be a quiet day, and not much will happen. then i will go home to put some inneffective goop on my cat's eyes. after that, i will contemplate my life for the rest of the evening. it's going to be awesome.

regards,
jim

more list

more things i want for my thirtieth birthday:

5) a sizable trust fund.
6) recognition for something
7) lengthly sabbatical in which i am required to work on whatever i want
8) mad skills
9) a very large and wide display for my computer

best,
jim

sweet potato pie

sweet potato pie is a dessert that i've never eaten, yet i have a sneaky suspicion that i would like it very much. i imagine it's something like pumpkin pie, and pumpkin pie is one of my favorites. i recall florida from "good times" used to bribe the superintendent of her apartment building (i can't remember his name) with sweet potato pie. desserts can wield much power if used properly.

sincerely,
jim

p.s. the first big snowstorm of the season came and went, and i didn't want to kill a single person. that is remarkable.

list

list of things i want for my thirtieth birthday:

1) financial security
2) a sweet place to live and work
3) therapy
4) a linhof technika V in mint condition with several lenses, and lots of accessories

my mind is blank,
jim

CORRECTION!

i made a terrible error when i wrote that marleen worked for the interior designer. i should have written that she worked for the visual display director, or that she was the visual display assistant. you can see why she would be upset, right? from now on, i don't want to be referred to as an a/v guy or as technical support. you may not refer to me as a dark room manager or a photography area assistant. i will only answer if i am addressed as an application support specialist. that is my title. what does application support specialist mean? nothing, but that is the title i was given, and that is the title i wish to be referred to as.
can you smell the sarcasm?

snidely yours,
jim

i need a driveway

i woke up one day and it was winter. if you're thinking, "well technically it's not winter until december 21," you are correct. you are also a jerk. it feels wintery, and that's good enough for me.
i never gave winter much thought in the past. that has changed. now i dread winter. i dread heating my apartment. i dread shoveling snow. i dread perpetually wind burned face. more than any of those things i dread parking. last winter broke me. the barrage of deep snow storm after deep snow storm brought me to the edge. i got angry at people i've never even met. angry is too mild a word to use. enraged is better. it seems silly that one would get so worked up over parking, but if a parking spot is not available because someone parked their car in the spot that i conscientiously dug out, they deserve my ire. it would not be aggravating if others took the same time and effort to remove snow, but they don't. they rely on the work of others, and that is what gets my goat. that's right, it gets my goat. worse than having your parking spot stolen is the fear of having your spot stolen. i didn't drive to work for weeks last winter just to avoid the possibility that i would come home to find some asshole in my spot. i probably would have broken something if that happened.
i should think about anger management. i need a driveway.

sincerely,
jim turbert

part 2: jaded sarcastic nobody

marleen doesn't think bono (of the rock band u2) is pompous. we saw them last night, and it was very cool, but regardless of how much you like them, you must admit that bono is a little hard to handle at times. i was shocked when she asked me why i thought he was pompous. by my observation he just is. she was defending him by reminding me that he does all kinds of great things for people. i agree. he uses his celebrity to positive ends and i think it would probably be cool to hang out with him, but that doesn't mean that he's not pompous. his pomposity is one of the things that make him a mega star. it could be looked at as a prerequisite for superstardom. his strutting around like the cock of the roost is part of his persona. that ego/drive/ambition is why the band has been together since they were youngsters in ireland. it's there. am i wrong?
anyway, the show was pretty great. we had terrible seats, but even though i haven't listened to an entire u2 album for many years i enjoyed the experience for the most part. i could have done without some of the preaching about ending poverty in the world. marleen pointed out how all the thousands of people in the show brushed past a homeless guy named dave on the way into the show like he wasn't even there, but when bono asked everyone to whip out their phones and call a number in support of ending poverty they all did it. is bono the pied piper leading the mindless masses to a happier place? i didn't have a cell phone to get out, and i wouldn't have whipped out my phone even if i did. that's because instead of being a pompous altruistic superstar, i'm a jaded sarcastic nobody. did i mention that i'm almost 30?

with warm regards,
jim

inspirational running man

every morning i see this old guy running. depending on how on time or late i am, i catch him on different points in his route, and i have to say that this guy does some serious running. he's an inspiration. every single day he's out there whether it's a million degrees out or a million degrees below zero. he is hard core. normally when i see him he's running steadily at his normal pace. this morning i happened to catch him in a rotary. traffic was stopping, and he was running alongside the cars waving his hands over the sides of the vehicles kind of like kids do when they stick their hands out of car windows. do kids do that? i did it. i think i still do. anyway, mr. stoic super running man showed an entirely different aspect of his personality. he was running and playing his little game, and then he ran into the rotary with the cars. i'm not sure i would do this, but he was acting like he was rocky running up those steps in philadelphia. i wonder if he celebrates his workout every morning. maybe he's crazy. whatever he is, i like him more now than i did before.

more later,
jim

"my wife works for the interior designer. don't worry, you'll never see me here again."

last tuesday i was required to go to a grand opening celebration for an upscale jewelry store. if you know me, you probably chuckled after reading that last sentence. it is well known that i have a certain prejudice against rich people, and who goes to parties at upscale jewelry stores? rich people do. they go in droves. they do it like it's their job, because one of the main responsibilities of rich people is to celebrate luxury goods. i was quite uncomfortable when we arrived. people looked at me. i think they were puzzled as to why i was there. i should have worn a sign that said, "my wife works for the interior designer. don't worry, you'll never see me here again." as the night wore on, my discomfort faded. i developed a solid relationship with the folks who were serving hors d'oeuvres. they made sure i was comfortable. every time one of them walked by, i would take at least one of the items they were offering. one of the guys seemed to be making special trips to deliver me whatever goodness he had, and i thank him for that. most of the evening was spent being whisked from here to there by marleen so she could introduce me to her co-workers. they all seemed like lovely people. most of them aren't rich, though. maybe that's why i liked them. one of the rich guys there was tom hamilton from the band aerosmith. i'm sure he was not the richest person there, but he was certainly the one getting the most attention. as soon as he came in, the folks who ran the store grabbed him and made him sign a bunch of shit. i saw him sign a crystal bowl. what the fuck is that all about? lots of people had their pictures taken with him, and everyone was very happy to see him. he even got onstage with the student musicians who were playing the event. he was very cool to everyone, and that totally amazed me. if i were in his shoes, i definitely wouldn't sign anyone's stupid crystal bowl, and i certainly wouldn't have my picture taken with any pushy jewelry store bitches just so it could end up in the society party pictures in the back of the improper bostonian or whatever crappy mags do that kind of stuff. as i watched tom deal with his situation, i settled down a lot. he was rich and he was being great to everyone around him. he was not horrible at all. granted, he was probably not rich when he was growing up, but i'm not going to get into that. i'm just going to say that the next time i'm asked to go to one of these celebrations of disposable income, i will support my wife, and i will be pleasant to any rich people she wants me to talk to. more importantly, i will go without complaint.

that is all,
jim

free stuff is both timeless and ageless

regardless of how old i get, the prospect of free food never loses it's appeal. i love eating. i love going out to eat, and i love it when food is prepared for me. i just got an e-mail from a local indian restaurant called bukhara. marleen and i eat there a lot. when they bring the bill, they offer a little invitation flyer to join their frequent diner club. i realize that sounds tacky. it looks tacky too. it's orange and there's a tiny picture of some old-school indian dudes on it with illustrations of tassels on each side. regardless of the tackiness, i joined their preferred diner club, and i must say that the benefits are fantastic. the e-mail i got today offered me $15 off on my next visit because my birthday is this month. that's an entire entree. in october, marleen's parents were here, and we got a sizable discount then as well because we had amassed so many diner points. it pays to be a frequent diner.
i know with all my aged wisdom that the food is not really free. it is discounted, and the restaurant still makes plenty of money on it. that doesn't matter. if it mattered, i would buy the ingredients and replicate the cuisine at home. the joy comes from being willing to pay for one thing, and finding out that you don't have to give as much as you thought. the joy comes from feeling awkward when you order the incredibly girly pistachio shake. even more joy comes when marleen gets annoyed that the guy tries fill her glass with water every two minutes. eating out is rad. do thirty year olds us the word rad?

until next time,
jim