12/27/2003 - 3:03 a.m. | said it all before, but it bears repeating now

Welcome once again to one of my bailey entries (bi + daily = bailey). Now, I'm not feeling all that pleasant, so let's hope I can make this quick. Nope. Can't.

Well, it took about nineteen years, but I've got myself pretty well programmed to consider Christmas as nothing more than a really long Sunday. Jesus might be pissed? Dunno - I can accept Him into my heart without celebrating His damn birthday, right? Sack religion? Anyway, arose, showered, put on clothes without the explicit intention of pissing off my mom. Mostly. Tennis shoes and no tucking in of the shirt. The shoes I can maybe understand, but tucking in has become the major force in my life that I work against. I look at old pictures of me, and I think two things: 1) Tucked in shirt. 2) Fag. So I gotta at least get one of those off the list while I can.

My dad and I got sucked into VH1's 50 greatest teen idols. Unfortunately, we had to leave about half an hour in. I could very well check the website, but we all know that isn't the same. Dad putzed around, and Mom grew enraged. Christmas spirit abounds. I drove, meaning Rhett Miller was on a big, disgusting loop all day. Don't argue because when I do say something, I might be right. Yes, that makes sense.

Part one of relative visiting at my mom's brother's house. Did I talk a little more? I like to think I talked a little more, but I'm still afraid I'm going to say something a little too callous because that's just how I am. I know I'm joking, but I don't know if everyone else does. Presents and junk: CDs, another vampire book, gift certificates. I miss toys, I think, but it's so hard to be explicit in what I want. Just get me stupid weird shit, and I will be happy. Nate misses his innocence.

More nontraditional dinners for us, which pleases me. Meat of some sort. More importantly, polenta and cream cheese. I ate a rather large block. Also half an apple pie. Nate smart. I only wanted 1/3, but someone decided to shove another piece on my plate to save dishes. My diarrhea thanks you. So much.

Barely able to move, the three Walshes stumbled out to go and eat some more. Although my dad has learned the habit of arriving everywhere on time, the rest of his family has not. Therefore, we arrived way at the thing way too early. My mom yelped in fear, and we rode around in circles until more arrived. I got gum! It's burny. Not Bernie, though. She is a cat mummy. Hmm.

Walsh party was eh. Better than usual, I guess, because the Matiodas weren't there, so my mom was a touch calmer, but I maintain it would've been fun to get smashed and yell things at them. I talk less there, though, especially since I don't know anyone, and all they can think to ask me is how school is. But I am under the impression that this may be rhetorical? Anyway, I was so full and gross that it doesn't really matter. The few hours passed sort of quickly and then we could go home. Lots of stars out on the ride home, including Orion, my favorite.

Strangely enough, my hair was well-received. Even my grandpa, who I was sort of expecting hell from, said that he liked it. What do you know?

Parents shoved off to bed, leaving me to the director's commentary to Donnie Darko. Sad? Perhaps. Jake Gyllenhaal does a kickass Christopher Walken impression in it, which I have added to my own NateSkills list. My own is so, so bad that it hurts. Bed very early. Screw you guys.

Up today to just sort of sit around lazily with Mom. Her continued quest to convince me that I am cute resumed for a while. She tries to give me facts, but I remain adamant. "The lady at work thought you were cute!" Great, I've won over the middle aged demographic. Until my so-called target audience presents me with any evidence, I am sticking with my current theory.

I got ready, and we headed towards the mall. I've been long planning to get one of those huge, comfy pillows from Dry Ice, but my mom thought it might be cheaper to make one ourselves. Found some decent fabric, but apparently foam is the most expensive thing in the whole damn world. What is foam even? Squish squish. 100 bucks. OK, that makes sense. I can't not make fun of you. Sorry.

At the mall, I tried very hard to find something not about vampires. Failed. Toys suck, clothes crap, no bike stuff or good music. Fine. I give. Ho ho - a girl gave me a double take by the little kids rides, and my mom practically shat herself. "SEE! THEY DO LIKE YOU!" Luckily, my brain is able to respond to these threats quicker than they are thrown out. 1) She was probably looking at my freakish hair. 2) She had a kid with her, is a single mother, and has probably lowered her standards. 3) She's only one girl in a whole mall anyway. And then Michelle brings something up. When did everyone decide I need a girl? I am fully functional, maybe even better this way, I bet.

Anyway, home to read, then out for Mexican food (POOOOOP), home again for Discovery Channel. I <3 "Mythbusters." Not the hosts so much, but the concept and execution very much. Then "More Than Human." The little 13 year girl who had evolved to climb better than anyone kicked ass. I want to raise little monkey children. Wish I was evolved. WERE. Parents retired to bed; I watched Inspector Gadget and drank wine. Something is wrong here? Meanwhile, is Joely Fisher hot? NO. YES. NO. Nevermind.

When it rains, it pours. Nate loves his cliches. I never get any phone calls and suddenly I get one on the land line and one on my cell. While pooping, incidentally. Ducky is in the midst of an attempt to get me to go to Eric Bowder's, uh, thangle, followed by skiing, followed by party on New Year's at UIUC. 2/3 of that is unsavory (I will leave the guessing to you), but Bill and Spritz apparently have signed up, so I grow nervous. Justin calls meantime. His plans got cancelled, and I'm backup. So it goes. He has no New Year's plans and even if he does, prolly doesn't need me along, right? So we shall see.

I tried to ask my parents if Justin could come over and received some sort of a grunt in response. Good enough. When he arrived and we decided to go out, I once again went to check if it was OK. Half-grunt. I'll leave a note. Man, though! What a weak trip to Wal-mart! Neither of us found anything that we even remotely wanted! I was up for a bad, cheap movie and searched through a whole bin for one. Nothing. No claw prizes, no gross foods, no weird hygenic products, no sporting goods, no dumb toys. Shit. So, with time to spare before we could consider the evening fully wasted, we went to Brothers ("Home of the Beef Roll"). This, my friends, will be my new hangout. One, the staff is surly. Our waitress - a newb - was all bitchy, and the boss is crazy and foreign ("YOU PUNCH TIME CARD!") Two, the food is pretty lousy (which is why you order innoculous things like I did - sherbet and cereal), but for some reason, they serve alcohol. This one couple kept getting shots as their child slept on in the other side of their booth. Nice. Three, there are exactly two things for kids to do after 10 in this town: Wal-mart and Brothers. Therefore, Hottie Central. Personally, I could just glare at everyone until the cows come home (Speaking of cows, I bought a Celtic bagpipes CD today... It's so happy and hypnotizing!), but since my bachelor lifestyle has come into question, why not a smoky mutant? Why not indeed. Home then and much writing, finally done.