twenty-something

90s-Something | By Patrick Raymond
1997, Part Ten (Conclusion): Lucky

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11AM. Day after Christmas.

I throw some clothes on and brave the post-holiday madness at the mall. I am a man on a mission: to I buy Ben Fold Five's "Whatever & Ever Amen" and Radiohead's "OK Computer." I've wanted these albums for a solid month and, finally, I have them.

This is the highlight of the whole holiday for me. It's been a long, hard December and a lonely Christmas.

Life is well and fine, but I'm just not satisfied. I try to recognize how far I've come, how much better my life is now than when the year began, but I can't help but be selfish, to want more.

My activism efforts still bring me joy, they're still going well, but the sting of backlash grows as time moves on. The status quo begins to creep back into school and I wonder, Have I made a difference at all?

I've met a few guys, but no one I connect with. I hook up a couple times, but sex in the woods or in the backseat of a car is starting to lose it's magic.

College has me stressed out, too. My father won't pay. I don't know where I'm going. The future is hazy.

I've seen what's out there. I've tasted happiness, young love, and success. And I want it back. And I want more.

So that night, the day after Christmas, I lay awake, thinking, brooding. And I sort of pray in my agnostic way. Never a big believer in God, I sometimes still pray, on my terms.

I have always had this odd way of doing so -- it's more of a monologue with the higher powers, a conversation with the Almighty. But that night -- whatever could hear me, whatever had the ability to answer my prayer -- it didn't matter.

"God or Buddha or Satan or aliens or whatever -- I don't care anymore. Just... listen up."

On that cold December night, in that state of mind, I curse the fates and, eventually, try to strike a deal.

My plea is simple. To whomever or whatever can hear me, give me two things: love and luck.

First, let me find the man of my dreams before the New Year. That guy, the one I'm supposed to meet in college? Bring him now. Give me someone to love -- who will love me back.

Second, let me find the place I'm supposed to me. Get me into college, allow me to pay for it, make me choose the right one.

That's not too much to ask, right?

In exchange, I bargain, I will make myself a better man in the coming year. I don't know what that means, I don't care what that means. Go to Church? Do more volunteer work? Change the world?

"You tell me."

My prayer/vent-session ends and I am satisfied.

I fall asleep quickly, unusual for me, and I completely forget my vow.

Once upon a time, and for a long time, Sarah McLachlan's version of "Song for a Winter's Night" was my favorite non-Christmas Christmas song.

This year I've been listening to the decidedly Christmas Christmas song "River" ad nasuem. Whether it's sung by Sarah, or Aimee Mann, or the Indigo Girls, or Rachel Yamagata, or Robert Downey Jr., or Joni... it's my holiday jam, yo.

But my new non-Christmas Christmas song award goes to John Mayer and "St. Patrick's Day," a tune from his first album, Room for Squares. I'd been listening to it quite a bit lately, but without acknowledging it's holiday elements. It wasn't until Yelli and I were driving around on Sunday, looking at Christmas lights, that she pointed out just how festive it is.

Who knows what will be
But I'll make you this guarantee...

No way November will see our goodbye
When it comes to December it's obvious why
No one wants to be alone at Christmas time
And come January we're frozen inside
Making new resolutions a hundred times
February, won't you be my valentine?

And we'll both be safe 'til St. Patrick's Day

We should take a ride tonight around the town
and look around at all the beautiful houses
something in the way that blue lights on a black night
can make you feel more
everybody, it seems to me, just wants to be
just like you and me...

And if our always is all that we gave
And we someday take that away
I'll be alright if it was just 'til St. Patrick's Day

It's a balmy 45 degrees here in Boston today. Much of December has been in the 50's. Quite a change from the chilly holidays of Vermont. But regardless of the weather, and despite a few hiccups, this has been the warmest December I've had in years...

Here's hoping it lasts for a little while longer.

Decide now; if you really want to connect with a certain person you're going to have to make your move today.

That's my daily text-messaged horoscope for this December 20th. *sigh* (No, thank you. I think I'm still full from dinner last night.)

And my Google Homepage one?

Some important questions could be resolved today and you might start to feel a little clearer about the path you'd really like to be on. If you've been working on any sort of idea or concept, now's the time to decide whether or not to keep moving forward with it. And if you've had a few questions about your long-term security, things should start to seem a lot clearer right now.

Though I don't really believe in fate -- and if she exisits? She's a royal bitch -- or horoscopes, sometimes, if I'm feeling just right, I can buy into that crapola just enough. (I do get my horoscope sent to me every morning, don't I?)

Today I do have agree with being "little clearer about the path you'd really like to be on." Clarity can be a bitch, too, but in a good way.

Today is, afterall, a brand new day.

Gay's Anatomy
Episode 7.11: "Last Christmas"
Christmas comes to Boston on a very special holiday episode. With his ex in town for the holidays, Patrick is unnerved by his unseen presence -- which causes some static with his new beau. Will he finally overcome his relationship fears and give his heart to someone special this year? Meanwhile, Tom recovers from surgery, Yelli faces the holiday rush, and a very pregnant Page prepares to give birth to baby Pierce. Guest starring: Steven W. Bailey as Joe, Sarah Utterback as Nurse Olivia, Jake Gyllenhaal as "Duncan," and Joey Cheek as "Mr. Harvard."

Yes, if my life were an ABC dramedy (and who's to say it isn't?), this year's holiday episode would close with a cool indie-ish cover of Wham!'s "Last Christmas," perhaps done by Imogen Heap, Mat Kearney, or Tegan & Sara (a shame that Dexter Freebish's awesome version is too 2000), as "Patrick" makes up his mind and as mama "Page" pops out a baby. What is her top secret boy's name? Will our hero finally get over himself and take the plunge? If this blog is any indication, all signs point to -- "Ask again later."

Next Episode: "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?"

After two years of admiring from afar, 2006 was going to be the year that I watched Boston's annual Santa Speedo Run up close and personal. Sadly, Big K and I skipped the event -- and we're both kicking ourselves now that we've seen the coverage from Evan, heyletsgo.com, and a Towleroad correspondent. While it would've been tremendously hot to see all those smokin' guys up close, it's probably for the best -- I would've sunk into a holiday depression for lack of touching. I suppose there's always 2007... only 360-something days!