I hope everybody had a superb Christmas, particularly since I didn’t bother to wish you one in my last column, because I’m a self-centered butthole! Merry Christmas, anyway, and a happy New Year. Today’s topics: why too much religion makes me hurt; why Christmas r0x0rs; and a few potential New Year’s resolutions.

Being a semi-professional singer, this time of year gets rather busy. I actually had to miss a few money-making performances this year because of our move, but I still got some significant bank out of what I did do. The downside of all this is that I usually end up doing 3 services Christmas eve, plus another one Christmas morning, and by noon on Christmas day, I end up not being able to talk and I have to coat my cords with significant amounts of rum-spiked eggnog before I can phonate normally.

I sang two Eucharists, at 4pm and 6pm, at Christ Church, Christiana Hundred, each of which lasted about 75 minutes, which is about average. (My hot sister Liz got to sing a solo in a world premiere of a piece by Philip Ledger, the name of which escapes me. She was the bomb.)

Then I had to go to the Cathedral for a late evensong, the equivalent of the Catholic “Midnight Mass.” We first sang a short concert from 10:30 to 11pm, and then settled in for the long haul, as Bishop Wayne Wright was presiding (he’s a wonderful person, and by all accounts a superb bishop, but to say that he reads the liturgy slowly is rather like saying that Yao Ming is somewhat tallish. The Bishop, coincidentally, is also well over 6 1/2 feet tall). The service ended at 12:40am, and we headed over to Dana’s to get drunk, and then stumbled home around 2:30.

Next morning, I woke up at 8:30 and just barely made it to church in time for the rehearsal, followed by a quick service, followed by showing up at Sarah’s parents’ house for breakfast and presents. Eggs…with bacon in ’em…::drools:: Got some great stuff there, particularly neat knick-knackity jaunpiece to put up at the new house. Then it was off to my parents’ place for further giftage and much tasty food.

The presents ruled, and the food was totally bomblicious, although I was so wiped out from lack of sleep that I passed out for a short nap after dinner. I was a mess. Plus, something gave me hives; it was either the shrimp (I had never gotten an allergy to shrimp, or indeed ANYTHING, before last night, so who knows), or some body moisturizer that I rubbed on my face ’cause it itched. Apparently body moisturizers ain’t so good on the sensitive skin of the face, but how on earth was I to know that? What I know about moisturizing I learned from Kyan Douglas, and he never mentioned it. Perhaps I should sue.

After eating at the ‘rents, Sarah and I headed home to open OUR presents, after which we fell asleep watching an ER rerun. (Abby is so hot.)

As to why Christmas kicks much izass: presents. (And, um, the celebration of the birth of Everyone’s Personal Savior, of course. Reason for the season, and all that.) Nevertheless, our friends and family took our request of “stuff for the new house” to heart. Dana got us a beautiful framed print of a cello; my pops printed out a totally kickass picture he took of the Sound (remember the view from the back porch of our Thanksgiving beach house?) that features the back of my head (he had it printed at Ritz camera, and it looks about 300 times better than what I can do with my $100 Epson); KinnĂ© gave us a totally money little outdoor table made of painted glass, with piano keys running all around the edge; plus countless other knick-knacks, and a lot of clothing (always appreciated, now that Queer Eye has turned me into a clothes horse). Many thanks to everyone that gave us stuff to make our house a home!!!

So now I figure I should probably come up with some New Year’s resolutions. I’m gonna list a few here, but if anyone has some they think I should add to my list (“Hearn, you should definitely start wearing deodorant,” for example), shoot an email to spam at matthearn dot com and let me know. On to the potential list:

  • Improve my work ethic, so that I actually get things done at work, instead of, say, writing lengthy columns.
  • Drink in moderation.
  • Avoid catching herpes. (This should be relatively simple, provided Sarah isn’t cuckolding me with her boss, who is a woman, but this is the 21st century after all, and one must stay openminded at all times.)
  • Read more.
  • Use voodoo magic to try and get my head to shrink to a more manageable size. Failing this, purchase a large metal vice.
  • Invent wormhole technology. Colonize Alpha Centauri.
  • Lose 30 pounds. Get ripped.
  • Give more money away to charity.
  • Come up with some funnier resolutions.

I think that’s about it. Not sure if I’ll post again before the New Year; assuming I don’t, I will have one HELL of a righteous column regarding the New Year’s Eve festivities, hopefully in photoessay form. Happy New Year, y’all!

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