Monday, December 27, 2004

Christmas 2004 (A.iP.)

Merry Christmas-is-over and Happy not-quite-the-New Year! I really intended to post over the weekend, especially because I took a fabulous picture of myself with a demonic looking light-up Santa Claus, but you know, tough luck.

I'm at work, listening to my brand new, perfect, virginally white iPod. This is the greatest gadget I've ever owned. Not only can I listen to virtually anything my heart desires, it'll play games with me when I'm bored! It'll play "name that tune" with your whole music collection! It's fantastic! Also, I listened to Joan Jett's "I Hate Myself for Loving You" on repeat during my walk to work today. Combined with the cowboy boots I'm wearing, there was no stopping the total model-walk I did for about ten blocks (except for that little leap to the side to avoid some dog poop) (which was still totally suave, though). There's nothing that makes me happier than indulging the delusion that I am in my own movie and can hear my own soundtrack, and that the people giving me those weird looks are admiring my obvious status as protagonist, not wondering why the hell I'm walking so funny.

Okay, rewind to Friday (an age I will refer to as B.iP.), when my family decided that we were going to go to church after all. I had run into my former choir director in the supermarket on Thursday night, and I wasn't too keen on going after our awkward discussion that only slightly veiled her belief that I have become a heathen. My mom kind of convinced me though, and once I was going my brothers decided they should go too, but not without wearing the most inappropriate clothes one could wear in church without being denied the Body of Christ. They loosely interpreted the inappropriate-dress clause by wearing jeans, t-shirts, unhappy grimaces, etc. I, however, wore a dress I bought for four dollars on E-Bay (which kinda resembles a vacuum cleaner bag, but, you know, in a good way), one of my Grandma's horrible giant gold pins, and a white leather spiked belt. Praise Jesus!

I almost got through a whole mass without being completely pissed off until the priest made a big deal about not saying "Happy Holidays." "JESUS is the REASON for the SEASON! Forget that Happy Holidays stuff! This is CHRISTMAS." Yes, well, Father, it may be Christmas in here, but outside, it's pretty much just Saturday for the big-ass population of Jews, Muslims, Pagans, Atheists, and Catholics alienated by guys just like you. So give it a break, please? Celebrate Christmas till your heart's content, but don't foist it on everyone else. He had the nerve to go on and thank God we live in such a free country. So free we all have to be Christian! Whee! Yay for the First Amendment! Don't say Happy Holidays or we'll stop you at the airport and have your bags searched, you terrorist piece of crap!

Anyway, post-mass, my family ate half a ton of Chinese takeout in front of the TV, as God intended. I think it's actually in Deuteronomy somewhere.

Christmas morning my brother (who sleeps till four in the afternoon citing the effects of mononucleosis) woke me up at the crack of dawn to open presents. I got some wonderful stuff from my family, and gave them some (hopefully) pretty good gifts in return. In my brother's case, at least, my gift was wildly inappropriate, which is often a decent substitute for "good." I got him a copy of Surf Nazis Must Die, the pinnacle of cinematic achievement, as well as a light-up pink neon mudflap girl.

With Brad permanantly in Ohio and Kai in Boston temporarily, I spent Sunday in solitude, which was actually very nice. My brothers went somewhere to see some band or something, and my parents went out to see someone and have coffee or something. I wasn't involved, so I didn't really listen. Protagonist, remember? No, my brothers were at a concert in Connecticut and my parents were over their friends' house, so I went to see The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, which I loved with all my heart. I think I was the only one in the theater who enjoyed it at all, though, because not only did nobody else laugh even once, the guy behind me actually fell asleep and started snoring during the first half an hour.

After picking up a few Christmas presents that aren't due until next week, I went home and contented myself with some leftover Christmas ham and The Office on DVD. I'm convinced Tim Canterbury and I would make a great couple.

If only he weren't fictional. I have to stop falling in love with TV characters.


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