All of my adult life, I think I've been on Santa's "Naughty List."  The reason I think so is because I spend every holiday with my family.  If I were on the "Nice List," I'd get to choose who to spend the holiday with.

So as I type this, I am at my Grandmother's house (Grandma got wireless!  Yay!) and my cousins and aunts and uncles are all here.  There are toddlers everywhere, My cousin has the home theatre too loud and the house is about 98 degrees.  I'd go up to the third floor (which has it's own AC units and is quieter,) but the wireless doesn't work there.  Decisions, decisions...  I'm still probably right where I want to be during the holidays, though.

Even more fun than being here was the journey.  I decided to ride with my parents in their SUV.  I made this decision because I really didn't feel like driving my own car, and their SUV has a nice backseat with my own AC and a DVD player for me.  Another reason I rode along is because I had apparently lost my senses.  Three hours in the car with my parents?  WHAT was I thinking?

So we drove here in an SUV with enough food for all weekend (for some reason, my parents travel with tons of food.  The concept that you can buy food elsewhere is beyond them.)  Two dogs in crates, more clothes than anyone really needed, and one seriously drugged up Daddy.

For those of you playing Tim's Lounge: The Home Game, you know that my father was in the hospital.  He's out, and the pain is controlled with several muscle relaxers and tons of Demerol.  Whe my father's not asleep, he's loopy.  And funny as hell:

• Mom drove.  As she crossed a bridge, he said "Hold 'er steady, Roz!"
• He sang constantly.  Seriously.  We would pass a sign that said "Neiderwald: 9 miles, " and he'd sing it.  He made up whole songs about each sign.  This was funny, then grew somewhat tiresome, even to a musical theatre fan like myself.
  
• When we passed a house with lots of Christmas lights, he'd shout, "They got spirit, yes they do!  They got spirit, how 'bout US?"
• At some point, his singing turned into commercial jingles from the 70's.  "With Libby, Libby, Libby on the label, label, label...."
• "Hmmmm, hmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmmm"  Humming is annoying after a couple of hours.  Did you know that?

And then, the fun didn't stop!  As soon as we got here, I let the dogs out in the yard, and Sasha fell into the lake.  I got her out, and she's fine.  I had no idea she could swim so well... she went right to the Jetski dock so I could grab her out.  She wasnt' on a leash because I thought SURELY she wasn't so stupid that she'd end up in the lake!  Oh... I was wrong...

HE!  My father is MST3King Van Helsing right now: "Remember, if you're going to fight a vampire, it's impotant to wear heels... "  I know drug abuse is a bad thing and all, but this is fun!

My current TiVo queue:.

I like things that make me happy.  TiVo does that for me.  Here's a list of what I have set up to tape, or have recorded and need to watch:

• Cheaters.  I have been a fan of this show since before most people could get it.  I have actually seen one of these busts live, and it's fun to watch.  I briefly dated a producer who supplied me with unedited episodes, and that was fun.  Shame that relationship didn't work out, but this about my guilty pleasures...not my regrets (call me, David!)  Now that it's on daily, my little TiVo faitfully gets it for me.  I watch it every night before I go to bed.  I currently have three episodes taped... one was so wonderful, it's saved until I have no room for anything else.
  
• A Real Sex Xtra: Poronocopia: Going Down.  A show that HBO is SO proud of, they don't even mention it on their website.  It's a six-part series and I am lovin' every second of it.  Because I'm apparently 12 years old, and like to see titties on TV.
  
• The OC.  Duh.  It's wonderful in its cheese.  And I like cheese.  And hot boys with lots of money.  I DO, however, worry that I might be a little bit of a pedophile when I watch this, but since the actors are apparently in their late 20s or something (a la 90210) I don't feel QUITE as bad.  Also: dont' tell anyone, but I bought the Chrismukkah album on iTunes today.  Save me.
• Desperate Housewives.  Apparently, all of the US likes cheese, and I'm addicted to this mess, too.  I at least once an episode say "Oh NO she d'in't!" and THAT'S quality television, folks!
• Drawn Together.  I love this show, because it's so over-the-top.  The boardroom with Richie Rich... that was pure comic genious.  Sometimes, it's a bit ham-handed in it's writing, and they club a joke to death, assuming I didn't get the nuance, but it's easily forgiven, because it's so cool.  SIDE NOTE: Xandir: CALL ME!  I dig men on Everlasting Quests... espicially when they're as cute as you are!

There's more, but I'm already embarresed enough.  Like the Britcoms (My Hero?  What a steaming pile of shit, and I can't stop watching it!)  Or the horrid Gilligan's Island reality show on TBS that doesn't even deserve a link.

Okay, as I begin this, it's 11:03, so I have just under an hour to get this whipped out.  And since I'm such a writing GOD and all, here goes.

Last night, my father was adjusting the Christmas lights on his house and fell off the ladder.  I heard him fall, and ran out.  I begged him to go to the ER, and my Mom begged, but  he's somewhat stubborn, so he wouldn't go.

Until 2:30 am, when he couldn't move at all without severe, screaming pain.  We called the paramedics and had them come get him, and followed to the hospital.  Turns out, he's suffered some trauma, but he'll be okay.  He was admitted to the hospital and they are working to control the pain.  We're hoping he'll be out tomorrow sometime.

Today wasn't all stress-y... my sister and her family hit town about 5:00 this afternoon.  We went to the hospital to see Dad (who was MUCH better than earlier in the day) and then went to the Riverwalk and enjoyed a boat ride (the Riverwalk is beautiful during holiday nights; there are tons of lights) followed by a wonderful Italian meal at my favorite restaurant.  A very nice night, and I got to enjoy time with my nephews.

This is getting easier.

I had fallen out of the habit of writing.  I just couldn't bring myself to write.  I used to write everyday, whether I wanted to or not, but that rhythm somehow broke and I only posted when I felt like it, which wasn't often, alas.  I would sometimes think a funny phrase or absurd event belonged here, but the effort to do it?  Not so much.

The Holidalies have brought me back.  I HAVE to post daily, because I SAID I would.  And I have.  Don't know why that's any different than last yeah, when I posted a whopping FIVE entries (and a big ol' thank you to Jette for keeping THAT on your site!) but last year's failure seems to have pushed me to exercise this muscle a bit more.  And for that, I'm grateful.  Jette and her Beau don't know it, but they've given me a wonderful gift... my "voice."  Thanks. 

This year has not been an easy one for me.  I've gone through some pretty severe stuff that I haven't felt empowered or compelled to share.  I'm okay, my health is fine (better than in a long time, actually) but 2004 will not go down as one of my finest years.  I guess we all have those, don't we?  Heaven knows I've had my fair share.

There is good news, though.  Despite a craptastic year and a series of events that in the past would have destroyed my mental health and self esteem, I didn't have a meltdown like I would have five or ten years ago.  I just handled things and am going on with my life.  Life has good things, life has bad things, and usually both at the same time.  There are no  more "zip-a-dee-doo-dah," "Everything's coming up roses" sort of times for me.  I no longer expect such moods.  I think feelings like that are healthiest when left in the realm of musical theatre, and out of the realm of denial.

That's not to say I don't expect to be happy.  I do, and I am.  I just don't think that one's life is ever 100% good or 100% bad.  The world doesn't work that way.  A lot of the secret to happiness is perhaps focusing on whatever percentage is good whilst dealing head-on with the bad parts.

That, and to laugh as much as possible.

My mind works in odd ways (something you have probably figured out by now.)  For no reason at all, I did a Google image search for "Santa's Lap" and found a goldmine of humor.  So much, that I felt compelled to share a few.

It's just SAD when you outweigh Santa.  Also, Santa looks like a real dork here.

Okay, I actually know her.  This is Nuclia Waste.  She likes Santa.

This Santa likes his subject.  Also: ewwww.  Santa should never be drunk!
"Um... Santa?  That had BETTER be one of those novelty candy canes!"

You KNOW you're going to get your wish if Santa tweaks your nips.  Especially if your wish is DIRTY GAY SANTA SEX!

And finally, a photo that needs no caption.  It's wrong-ness is fabulous, and this Santa looks scared:

Ho! Ho! Ho! indeed.
(I'm totally going to come up in Google searches for "Dirty gay Santa sex," aren't I?)

How is already Sunday night?  I had a busy weekend, and next week looks to be busy, too.  My sister is coming to visit this week, which has me excited, but Holy Bejesus, my house is a mess.  At least one thing has been fixed this weekend:  My guestroom toilet now flushes without great effort on the flusher's part.

My house was built in 1981, and as near as I can tell, the toilet guts were original.  The tanks even had one of those big floatie balls still.  ("Big floatie balls is the OFFICIAL plumbing term, right?)  ANYWAY, so for longer than I'm willing to admit or remember,  that toilet has required a variety of efforts to accomplish a successful flush: sometimes, one would have to take the top off the tank to fish the chain out, because it had fallen off of the handle.  Other times, the flapper wouldn't seat itself properly.  Sometimes, the toilet would run and run until the water company sent me thank you notes. Lately, I have been unable to "flush and go."  I would have to hold the handle until ethe bowl had emptied. So there was work to be done, because life is too short to have to watch your own... stuff... swirl about before going away.

My previous efforts at toilet repair have not been successful.  My old house had some weird non-compliant toilets, so the little fix 'em kits never worked.  The replacement flappers were always too small, the angles were all wrong,  and nothing ever fit properly.  Pretty odd, considering they were branded "American Standard."

Anyway, if you'd been watching me today, you'd SWEAR I knew what I was doing.  I did everything right: took the old nasty stuff out, put the new in, and turned the water back on.  The water went into the tank, but not on my floor, and the water stopped filling the MOMENT the water hit the "Water Line" mark on the inside of the tank.  I'm a plumbing GOD.  And very very butch.  I swear... Now that I can add "can fix a toilet" to my resume, I won't be single for long.  Men love that sort of thing.

So tomorrow is the Third Sunday of Advent, which means it's less than two weeks until Christamas.  And despite having my shit together enough to sent my Christmas Cards WAY earlier than I have, well... ever,  I haven't done any shopping.

Yeah.  So despite a late night (early morning?) I was up and at 'em early this morning, shopping with my parents.  It was a mixed bag out there... most of the stores were crowded, and others were INSANELY crowded.  At least the people watching was good: I have never, ever wanted a camera phone more than when I saw a VERY LARGE woman "test driving" a karaoke machine at Sam's Club.  She made America The Beautiful sound really bad, and more than just my family was snickering.  I think it's awesome... she had a good time, her own little William Hung Moment, and went back to shopping for catfood in the 200 pound bag.

We also saw a woman in full Jersey Housewife regalia: tight leggings, acrylic high-heeled open-toed shoes, Christmas sweater, and hair teased more than Richard Simmons in high school.  It was a definate PW (People Watching)  score of  8.5.

Oh, and we got a LOTS of shopping accomplished.  Now, if only this stuff would wrap itself...

Yay!  Someday soon, I may be able to marry a Canadian.  And he can even be a boy.  Yay, Canada, for making smart laws that treat everyone as humans and take into account that it's 2004, not  1754.

Of course, I'm sure there was hot gay sex even back then.  I know this to be true because I read book about it.  I think.  Or maybe I read a REVIEW of a book about it.  I'm very literary, you know.

One place we seen to have reached real equality as gay and lesbian people is on HGTV.  I watch HGTV all the time, because I'm very gay, and apparently like shows with low budgets, production values and formulatic themes (I swear, on Designer's Challenge, a very chirpy and coiffed Chris Harrison uses the same damn script every show, and just changes the names and project info.)

It seems like a couple of times a week, one show or another will go into a gay couple's home and show it off.  I used to think this was because gay people tended to have homes of great beauty and charm, and in a way, that's sort of true, but now, I'm starting to see gay couples on the "Oh my God, you live like a skank!" shows, such as Mission: Organization.  This is a great breakthrough, because honestly, you get a 30 minuite look into someone else's life, and often, that someone else happens to be a gay couple who are having trouble merging households and finding room for all the Kenneth Cole shoes and Fiestaware pottery. 

Now if only Middle America would catch on, we'd be all set, and I could marry somebody.  You know... assuming that anyone will EVER come along.

So they say it's the most wonderful time of the year, eh?

I'm trying to enforce some cheer upon myself.  I have attempted to spead holiday cheer by getting my Christmas cards sent early.  I sent 66 this year.  My house is decorated in a festive manner.  Sasha is sporting a festive bow (which she LOVES, of course.  For a shih tzu owned by a gay man, she sure acts put out.  I swear she rolls her eyes at me when I'm putting her in a costume or outfit to celebrate a season or event.)

I've done everything right.  So why am I in a funk this year?

Blame Martha.  I just miss her bossy, bitchy way of telling me how to be festive!  To make matters worse, we no longer have K-Marts in this part of Texas, so I can't even get my spirit on by looking at her custom designed, mass-marketed ornaments and holiday regalia.  I'm just Martha-less, and so I don't know how to be festive.  I've lost the ability or will to think for myself on matters related to entertaining and celebrating.

Sure, I've tried others: I have visited the HGTV crafts website.  I've even spent time at Martha's own website, but it's not the same.  I want her to be on my TV, telling me to concentrate on my salad.  I don't think I'll ever be alright until then.

FREE MARTHA!!!

Ah yes.  So I've been away for awhile, and I've noticed lots of people participating this year in the Holidalies, including the wonderful Lisa-Marie have decided to write introductions.  Some people have been witty.  Some have been breathtakingly honest.  Some have been pointless.  We'll see where I fall.

Howdy.  I'm Tim.

I'm 33 years old, and a Capricorn. 

I live in a suburb between San Antonio and Austin,

For the most part, I love my life, and consider myself happy.

I work for a non-profit hospice as the Information System Director.  This has proven to be my dream job, because I get to be a computer geek and make a difference in my community.

People tell me that I'm so smart it's scary, but I think I'm just me.  I do know that I look at the world sometimes in a different way than the world at large.

I think that's part of the reason I've been single for so long... I'm hard to figure out and haven't found a man willing to do that yet.  I'm far from perfect, but am committed to improving.

Despite a lot of wonderful friends, I am sometimes very lonely.

I  struggle with my weight, and get frustrated by that.  I have lost a lot of weight this year, but currently am struggling to not gain it back.

I'm a dog person, and have two of my own.

I'm a Democrat and what is now called "progressive,"  which used to be called "liberal."

There are very few experiences in this life that I will refuse: I will try almost anything once, twice if I like it.

I love techonlogy and gadgets.  TiVo is among the best inventions in the world.  Vonage is pretty cool, too.

This might be among the most personal entries I've ever posted here.

The following timeline is an actual representation of an actual evening spent at San Antonio's Pig Stand, which  is one of the oldest restaurants in San Antonio and is open 24 hours a day.  We went there after calling it an early evening at the bar.  The food is good (you know... if you're half-drunk) and the staff is very sweet.  Also, the women's room is apparently VERY comfortable. 

DISCLAIMER:
All times are approximate and dramatic license may or may not have been employed.

12:15 am
There were only seven of us: six gay men and one woman.  I had never met Becky before, but she seemed really sweet.  We enjoyed our conversation with her very much and found her funny and sweet.  Quite smart.  Good lady.

12:45 am
We were enjoying the company, the adequate food, and the atmosphere.  Becky finished her patty melt and went into the women's restroom.  About that same time, I needed to go, so I did.  A couple of the people went outside to smoke.  We continued visiting.

1:20 am
I went to the restroom a second time.  When I came back inside, everyone looked as if they'd just had a good laugh, and I got paranoid, because I was SURE they were laughing at my tiny bladder.  Turns out, Becky's friend had mentioned that she's somewhat narcaleptic, and was still in the rest room.

1:35 am
Now, this situation is delicate, because you feel really, really bad laughing.  What if she had a heart attack or something?  So I want to go on record as saying that I was laughing at what went on on OUR side of the door, okay?  That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.

1:36 am
"Mija?  Mija?  It's Lupe... the waitress?  Are you okay in there?" 
Lupe was very concerned.  We asked her if she had a key, and she nodded and got a butter knife.  This was, to six half drunk gay men, sorta funny.  She was unable to open the door with the butter knife, but Becky assured Lupe that she'd be right out, and was ok.  Good to know.

1:45 am
Lupe has involved the manager.  He knocked on the door, too.  Becky once again apparently responded that she was okay and would be right out.  We asked him if he had a key, and he went to work with a butter knife.  Tears are welling up in my eyes, because... where's the key?

1:47 am
Lupe starts walking toward the door, this time with a steak knife.  I have to go outside because I'm quite certain that I'm about to bust out laughing inapproriately.

1:50 am
I'm still laughing... and have been joined by three other members of our party, who are also about hysterical.

1:55 am
We recieve word that Becky has emerged from the restroom looking well-rested.  She did indeed fall asleep, confessing that she'd been awake for about 30 hours in a row.  Despite the fact that we don't know her very well, we tease her without mercy.  Lupe is explaining to other tables what the big deal was, and points at Becky in the process.

2:00 am
We leave the restaraunt, still laughing.  It's been two days, and I still think it's hilarious.  The funniest line all night: "this gives a whole new meaning to passing in your sleep!"