I hate saying that Christmas is my favorite holiday. I mean, it’s so unoriginal and boring because you know that half of America thinks the same goddamn thing. I like to think that I’m a little more interesting than that. So when people ask me what my favorite holiday is, I lie and say Presidents Day, or Martin Luther King Jr. day, or something equally outlandish. Who in their right mind really likes those holidays? I am totally lying when I say that, but people believe me. And what they choose to believe is their problem.
I don’t know why I’m even talking about this. I just got done talking to my Great Aunt Penelope. She’s always so happy and peppy and all the things I usually tend not to be. Every time I talk to her it’s always the same thing; “How’s school?” “What’s the weather like?” “I can’t wait till Christmas when I get to see you little rascals.” So I guess maybe in a sense I dread Christmas, but only because I can’t stand the constant attention she gives me. She’s always going on about how I was the miracle baby and how lucky I am to be here. I hate that. She always brings it up. I guess my parents weren’t planning on having anymore kids after Taylor because of the money situation, so when my mom got pregnant with me, she didn’t know until a few months into it, and it was even worse because it was a tubal pregnancy. I wasn’t supposed to live. It doesn’t even matter. Life was great until all the other kids popped out just fine and healthy. It always made me wonder if maybe I just wasn’t meant to be here, or maybe my life wasn’t meant to be easy. My birth was so complicated, maybe my life was supposed to be too… Aside from Penelope’s constant need to remind me of that, she gives the worst gifts. Kinda like those awful sweaters you get from grandma and are forced to wear whenever she’s in town for a visit. Only Penelope gives things like books about nature and specific animals. Then, she’s asks you questions about it. Of course in order to be able to answer the questions, you have to have read the book…I hate reading.
You’re probably wondering why I’m so negative and bitter…but I can’t really answer that. I just have always been this way. Don’t get me wrong, I do notice it, but it’s not like I do anything about it. I figure if people don’t want to see me be bitter and sarcastic, they will be nice and pleasant. I have the worst problems with Ike. He’s such a case lately. He goes through these phases where he’s constantly questioning his existence and what he was put here to accomplish. I just want to punch him in the face and call him stupid. He writes these ridiculous songs about love and girls and all the things he’s never experienced. If there ever was a bigger poser than Isaac, I feel sorry for him and the people around him. I would never waste my time doing the things Ike does. He’s been on possibly two dates in his life, and he still lives at home…personally, I’d like to see him leave.
Being a Hanson though is cool. Aside from Isaac’s constant company I deal with it. I can pretty much deal with the throngs of girls outside of the TRL studios, or the hotels, or the venues. And I’m getting pretty good at it. It doesn’t bother me that half the time their not really even there to see me either. Don’t be embarrassed. I know that you and your little friends probably come to see Taylor in his damn sexy wife beater and sweaty skin. You lie and say it’s all about the music, but I know…I do go online once in a while and I have seen all of those websites with the millions of pictures of him up there on stage. I can see it though. He looks great up there. Not many of us are blessed with that ability to look so graceful while singing rock n roll. He pulls it off. Me? I sit there and try to look cool up on stage, I try to be a wild heartthrob. I’ve kept my hair long so I have that rocker sort of look. But I know I’m just being dumb. I know people make fun of me and I know that I look dirty…I haven’t changed my underwear in three days. I can hardly be considered a heartthrob. I brush my hair once when I wake up and once at the end of the day after my shower. I make no attempts to wash my clothes, or keep my closet neat. I am a sloppy, dirty teenage boy. Most girls would find me disgusting if they got to know me. I find me disgusting…
And I guess that’s the major drawback of this whole thing. Aside from the constant traveling, and the constant adoration (sometimes I feel like I’m being gazed at like a fish in a fishbowl), I wonder if I’ll ever meet a girl that likes me for me, and not because I’m famous and “cute.” It won’t happen, will it? Every girl is going to be attracted to the fame, and the money, or even one of my brothers, but they’ll put up with me just for the name. That’s my biggest fear…I don’t want to fall madly in love with some girl and then a couple years down the road have her dump me for some younger hotter famous kid. That scares me. But what else scares me is that I’ll be stupid and cynical about girls the rest of my life and be afraid of getting dumped, so I won’t ever fall in love. And knowing me, that is what’s going to happen.
Anyway, that subject sucks. I hate talking about girls in depth like that. It’s okay to say, “Yeah, girls, they’re cute. I like them,” but I really don’t like talking about them. Taylor doesn’t either. But he’s worse than I am. Have you read some of those articles where Taylor is always going on about the music and the traveling, and then when girls come up, he tries to change the subject? It’s almost comical really. I would totally get my ass beat for saying this, even thinking it, but really, doesn’t it make you wonder? Maybe he has slightly different plans for his love life…Perhaps he’s really into the same-sex thing… Or maybe he just really doesn’t like talking about girls. He’s weird like that. Isaac, on the other hand, is the total opposite. He likes talking about those girls. Too bad they really don’t much want to talk to him. Who is he trying to fool? He goes on an on about a certain lyric of a song and over analyzes everything, and still thinks that the girls want him. I think all the girls are too bored by his voice to even care…personally.
You know, I don’t really know what it is about Isaac that just bugs me. Perhaps it’s his ability to overanalyze everything known to man. Or his retarded sense of cool. Maybe it’s the way he talks with his mouth full, or the way he thinks he knows everything about love…I just think he’s retarded. I really, really do. I used to worship the ground he walked on. When I was little, I thought he was the greatest thing. I would follow him around and copy everything he said like a moron…God, I am so embarrassed for that time of my life. I don’t know what it was that finally made me see how stupid he was. I just remember, it was sometime after we left to record Middle Of Nowhere and I stopped thinking he was so cool. I started making fun of him, and telling him how dumb he was, and I started to lose respect for him…for no reason really. Well, actually, I really think it was when we were writing songs for the album. He was sitting there giving these ideas but each one was getting shut down. I remember this one time where we were all sitting in the studio and Isaac said through his microphone, “I want to see how this song would sound a cappella.” We all looked at him. Well, Taylor could have cared less, but the rest of us just stared at him blankly. The song was “Where’s the Love.” Can you imagine that song being a cappella? Can you imagine it being slow? Stephan, who was producing the album had to explain to him how some songs are just meant to be fast, and some slow. I wanted to crawl in a cave and never come out. I was embarrassed. It was like his naivety and ignorance was reflected onto me too. That was when I first started to see that Ike was not perfect, and after that, he was always doing little things that were so stupid to me. He would forget to close a cabinet, or put the cap back on the toothpaste. He would try to make dinner and everything would end up tasting like shit. But the worst was always with girls. What made him think that he was so good looking standing up there on stage with his guitars? It’s creepy enough knowing he names them.
Actually, I’ve thought about naming my drum set. I’ve named my bike, so I figure the drum set can have a name. It’s so hard though…you can’t just give it a name. It has to mean something, and I don’t have anything that really has meaning…not enough at least to have the privilege of having the same name as my drum set.
So Christmas sucks. And so does Isaac. And girls are confusing, my Aunt Penelope is weird, and Taylor doesn’t like to talk about girls…that’s a bit of everything. Everyone has a quirk…I never thought of mine, I probably never will really know what it is…but I know it’s there somewhere, and if someone figures it out, please, tell me. Until then, I’m going to try and be a little less negative, and maybe start reading those books and prepare for Aunt Penelope’s next visit. And maybe sometime, I’ll see you at a show, or an appearance. You’ll be the one screaming for Taylor.
