Brad Walsh

Animal House

My mom has two dogs, two cats, and one teenager, so throwing my little puppy into the mix over Christmas basically turned the house into a farm. There were animals everywhere. Hair and pee and blood and drool all over the damn place. It was like living with Paula Abdul! I kid, I kid. She’s going to see this and then I’m going to be at a party with her and she’s going to throw her drink at me. But I won’t even get wet because it will actually be a martini glass filled with pills.

Anyway, Merry Christmas! Christian and I flew to my mom’s house in Ohio first, for the few days before Christmas. We got to see my whole extended family, my first time in three years seeing everyone. Then we flew on Christmas morning to Maryland to spend a few days with his family. We had a great vacation away from New York and work-life. Lots of eating, watching TV, driving cars, relaxing. I barely even checked my e-mail for a week!

Why do I lie awake at night regretting the most pointless things? I stare at the ceiling wishing I hadn’t gotten up in front of my fifth grade class to play keyboard with Sean Swift and forgotten all the words to “Particle Man.” I don’t regret fighting with people or not going on a trip or buying this thing over that thing; the things that nag me night after night are always the things that only I remember. Giving away something that wasn’t mine in kindergarten because I was mad at the owner. Not accepting a friend request from someone I later realized I did actually know. Blurting to some A-list star “you must be beautiful” as if that made any kind of sense. Why can’t I regret a one night stand like normal people?