The one time of the year I have the full house to myself for the full night. There are plenty of times where I have the house to myself, mind you. But never for long. Never for this amount of time. In that time, there can be some great peace. But also present?

A sense of loneliness. In past years, I have filled this time with online buddies. Namely, ComicFury residents. (Who make up half my blog readership.) But I'm looking around for them right now, and not getting any real bites. Meaning, I'm not having the same chat, the same live experience, as I normally do.

I'm in that zone where I'm feeling a bit...isolated. Everyone is doing their own thing this year. Their thing seems to be separated from the community that I live on. And while that's good for them and I wouldn't wish it any other way (because it means they are happy with their lives), it doesn't change the fact that out here, I feel a bit exposed, with nowhere to go.

And I have only myself to blame, because there's been some isolation on my end. I've been drifting apart from the communities somewhat, so I can't say that there isn't any community left for me to find. I'm sure they're there. I just...haven't kept in as close a touch as necessary to be with them. And so, I'm...not.

I'm mostly celebrating with drinks. Chocolate milk warmed up in a microwave. A coke can. At midnight I'll open up a bottled coke (the kind found only at Costco which is directly imported from Mexico--real sugar instead of artificial sugar, but far less carbonation), to substitute for the old family tradition of cider (which I can't drink so much as half a bottle alone), and...that'll be it.

I also learned prior to my family leaving some more stuff which saddens me. To some extent, I'm honestly not expecting my dad to live too terribly long--he's only 66, and it's not like he does drugs, drinks alcohol, smokes, or any of those things. But he doesn't exercise, he eats a ridiculously large amount, he's notably fat, and honestly he looks and feels older than my grandfather was in my earliest memories. (Those being, 16 years ago, when my grandfather was in his 80s.)

Part of me actively wishes he were gone--that sounds absolutely horrible to say, but when you understand how bigoted and close-minded he is, and how much that conflicts with my daily existence, you might be able to better understand where I'm coming from there. This is the guy who had a best friend, and when that best friend came out as being gay, he never spoke of him ever again. Said friend died in the Vietnam War, and yet as far as my dad was concerned that was a good thing because the friend to him was dead long before then.

I just am at the stage of my life where I know I cannot ever come out while living in his house. And yet, I feel hopelessly far away from being able to find one of my own, thanks to that thing of me being...well, largely...alone. (Everything I talk about in this blog post is related, even if it doesn't initially appear that way.) So it's not as if I actively wish he were dead, so much as it is...

...I don't think I'll ever be able to so much as start transitioning until he is dead. So all that unhealthy stuff that he does, which in many ways disgusts me, I sometimes see as being something which could lead to me being, well...more free. Less trapped. Able to open myself up to the world, and to show them who I really am.

...Yet all the same. Today, that thing I learned was that a good mutual friend of my older siblings (both my brother and older sister), who for as long as we've known them was identified as male, came out (apparently last year!) as being a transwoman. (More than that, lesbian transwoman. She even has a daughter.)

When I heard the news, instantly I left the room. I didn't want to hear my family's discussion there. The best of it would be born of ignorance. The worst of it...well, still ignorance. But far worse than simple ignorance. (Keep in mind, my mother knows about me and my older sister has at least one other transwoman friend.) Even then. I caught wind of language usage I cringed at. "Decided they were a woman". "Transvestite". Referring to the person by "he". Using their old name. (Well to be fair. It's always possible to be trans and keep the old name. But as far as I know, transwomen keeping their old name are in the minority unless said name is androgynous/bigender. So I kind-of assume that she has a new name, and that they weren't using it.) The like.

And this was relevant, because my older sister brought it up as a potential (and now I think even probable) reason that my brother has lost interest at attending their group's getogethers (including one tonight). My older siblings have a tight-nit group of friends, like six or seven or so total, who have maintained active communication throughout many years, who largely went to the same school and were the same age and basically, had a full social circle, one which they continue to actively uphold even while some of them now live out of state.

My brother, and according to my sister, this is a recent change, has started to become more distant from them all. And my sister believes it to be because he would be avoiding the friend that came out. Which in this case...would be like father like son.

And while my brother doesn't live at home.

It still means that the influence of my father will last even after he is gone. (Which could be as late as 20 years from now. I don't see my dad living to be old as my grandfather currently is, because while my grandfather is less physically active than he used to be 16 years ago, he still was active even in his 80s whereas my dad is not. My grandfather maintained a healthy weight, whereas my dad is in denial about his, insisting he's healthy when he's clearly overweight and just by looking at him you can tell he is. So I don't see him hitting the 90s. He could theoretically live to his 80s though, even though with his current lifestyle that's not so likely.)

And that's what I guess bothers me most. It's just...so troubling. Knowing that right now, I'm basically alone. Literally at the moment, but figuratively only having half the family available as support. (Assuming my sisters both count, and assuming my mother fully supports me. I know she half-does, but fully? And completely?)

No friends to be with. Nothing. It's just...emptiness. And that's a very scary thing. I told my family when they left, "I'll manage". And I thought I would. I thought I'd be fine, that I'd be okay. But I'm not really feeling okay. I said it'd be "the usual", but it's not; it's less than the usual. So whether intentionally or accidentally, I lied.

In many ways, this is worse than Christmas for me. On Christmas, I had the happiness of family. It was happiness which relies on a lie, yes. It was also scary happiness, born of my fear of being found out isolated from any possible form of support. But all the same, I was happy that day.

Here...here I have all the bad I had before, and yet none of the good. So I am...really, really feeling...empty right now. Scared, alone, and wishing I had someone around to give me a hug. I mean, aside from the animals. Our dog's asleep, I don't know where our kitten is and she's already offered me some support, but...it's just not the same, you know, as having an actual person that I can talk to.

I just want to talk to people.
It doesn't have to be face-to-face; it can be in a chat.
It doesn't have to last until my midnight (which I know is later than most).
I just want to have it.

And right now...I don't.
I can talk to people in text plenty.
​But by the time that I get replies, the feelings I was talking about have already faded.

And the eve of New Year's Eve. I don't really have much to say. I mean, we watched the first four episodes of season five of Andromeda. The discs were extremely scratched, so we missed some huge chunks of the episodes. Including some rather important parts.

It's pretty much what I remember it being. (That is...less than stellar. Pun semi-intended.)

I wish I had more to say, but I'm still in family night mode, which basically translates to "struggle to make an entry before I run out of time".

I'm not actually sure what to say, honestly. So I guess you get to see a ramble in the purest form: mind wandering from place to place, without direction, without thought, just in action, with me sharing whatever I happen to be thinking about at the moment.

To be honest, my head is spinning with ideas, but none of them are coherent. I can't put them down in a solid presentation, in a format, in an actual order. I can't tell a story, or even just matter-of-factly go through them. They're just spinning in my head, and by the time I reach out to list one, by the time I try to think about it in words, in thoughts rather than concepts, it's gone.

Have I talked about that before on here? If so, probably not recently. Wouldn't surprise me if it's somewhere in the archives, but oh well. Most of my blog readers aren't the type to have read the majority of my archive. (After all, I've been going for over two years, and while I occasionally forget sometimes to make an article, most of the time I make one a day at minimum, sometimes up to three or even four, so I'm definitely over an average of one a day.)

It's a pretty intimidating, daunting task, after all. So it's understandable most haven't. I flat out tell you, right here and now: I haven't. Not so much as once. Not even once, have I gone start to finish, and read every single word I've said. I haven't even managed a skim, yet alone a full read. I talk a lot.

I mean. Sure, yeah. I make a lot of empty posts. I make empty blogs all the time. I can write a small wall apologizing for a lack of content, or post a single one-liner saying, "Sorry, I really don't feel like blogging today. :/" or something to that basic effect.

But most of the time, I have big, long, huge walls of text where I go into explicit detail about the latest thing to have caught my fancy. Things like story ideas. Game ideas. Or just me telling a story of something that happened in real life. Maybe a dream or two. Anything, really. But always, lengthy and extensive, something which is extremely hard to parse in any dosage.

Especially for people who have energy troubles like me. (Which, mind you, is the majority of my readers. Most of my friends, in some form or another, have to deal with some form of exhaustion in their lives which tires them out, meaning they simply don't have the energy to dive in--I know this and understand it because I have the same exact problem, what with my bipolar disorder and all.)

Anyway, where was I? Oh. Yeah, well I have some other thoughts I might get back to later in this post (because I thought of them and want to talk about them), but what I was talking about before this tangent was about thoughts and concepts.

Basically, my brain doesn't think in words. My first language isn't English. It's concepts. It's pictures. It's images. It's ideas. My brain thinks of something abstract, all the time. Every single thought I ever have, exists in that abstract where I have the pure, perfect form of something, something not tangible. And then, I have to force my brain to convert this info into something understandable.

I think of these things. Almost like a dream, except all the time. And then my brain struggles to translate these into actual things. I might think of something like having an idea of what God is, and then when I try to find the words for it, find myself unable to communicate them properly because while I know what God is in my head, I simply can't find a way to capture God in the real world in any form. Not an image, not in words, it just exists.

That's one example. Others exist too. Love. Stories. Images I want to create art out of. Fanart ideas. Fancomic ideas. Speculation in my head about stories, of various media--anime, manga, webcomics, the rare book, television show. Even if I know some spoilers but don't know how they arrive at said spoilers, I'll speculate and try to figure out what they happen to be, how they got there. When I see a situation, I'll think of how they resolve it.

And in my mind, I come up with these perfect things, which I can never produce properly. (For instance, there's several webcomics where I have speculation, ideas in my head, about what is going to happen, but while those concepts exist in my head, I can't convey them, which is a shame--I know AT LEAST one webcomic artist would absolutely love for that speculation to happen and is in fact sad that it hasn't happened from a fan yet. But, well...it HAS. From me. Yet I simply can't figure out how to turn the idea I saw in my head into words, conveying to them my theory because my theory exists in a realm of thought beyond language capacity.)

I suppose this might be what you'd consider "mind's eye" viewing of things. My head has a perfect vision. My head sees everything clearly. And then when I try to put these revolutionary, groundbreaking ideas, these wondrously creative things which are magnificent, which bridge gaps and explain everything so perfectly, when I try to give them form, it falls apart before even entering the real world.

A part of my brain, a deep part, perhaps even subconscious, understands these things. And then, my active, conscious part of my brain screws them up in trying to translate them, so that when I write, when I speak, when I draw them, the vision I originally had is gone, and in its place is a distorted picture that I can't make sense of heads or tails.

It's kinda frustrating. To have this brilliant mind, yet to have the vast majority of it be left untapped. Yes, I can say that with confidence. I hold no degree of arrogance in saying that I have a brilliant mind. I know it to be true. I know that within my mind is a genius which has some sort of magical insight into the world which should be revolutionary, which should be groundbreaking.

I can say this, and know it to be true...yet only because there are strings attached. Only because all that potential? Goes down the drain. Gets wasted. Because the concepts get lost in transition. I'm not sure if it's because conveying the perfect concept is impossible, or if it's simply because my brain is, in a sense, "missing" the proper "hardware" to give a "translation".

Regardless of which, the fact remains that thanks to my inability to get these smart, these brilliant, these great things effectively forward...what you're left with is a mind which is no better than your run-of-the-mill human. Maybe better in some ways, but definitely worse in many others.

Sure, I show some brief glimpses of this at times. I have wisdom I freely dispense. Many people have praised me for my particular insights, my unique view on certain problems and issues. So I still see things unusually, and in some ways, those views are seen as good, as insightful, as profound.

But they represent a mere fraction of what I do in my mind, because the concepts fail to materialize nine times out of ten. I'm not a genius. I'm not brilliant, in practice. I'm not exactly stupid. I'm not exactly a moron. I'm still sorta smart. But my smart is nothing truly special. Anyone can give the same as what I do, given the right circumstances.

And that's the part which is frustrating me, because I know that I am capable of so much more than that in theory--I know that I am capable of being "more than normal". People who read this will probably tell me, insisting, that I already am. But they don't know just how much of me I'm not able to show, not able to convey, and how beautiful it is in my mind and how anguishing it is that I can't actually show others this, how I can only tell of it, and give a glimpse.

You know how they say humans use only 10% of their brain? Yeah, well we know that's just a myth. It's been scientifically proven false in so many ridiculously numerous ways. All the same, in spite of that. How can I properly convey this...well. It feels like that at least in the case of my brain, what's being used is only a small fraction of what is theoretically possible.

I mean. Like. They say that basically the whole brain is active all the time. Yet. I dunno. Maybe it's like...it's an efficiency thing? Say that there are two aspects of brain activity: the amount of space being used, and the amount of intensity in the space. Science shows that the space being used is always basically 100%, but it feels like the amount of intensity in the space is only a small fraction of that.

...Hmm, how to better explain that.
Let's say you have a computer, which has ten memory chips. Each memory chip is 10G in size.
...Well, the computer might use every memory chip. Yet on each memory chip, it might be only using 3G of that 10G.

I know brain scans can show that certain areas in the brain are more active than others. You could call that the "intensity". Sort of like, where the electrical signals currently are strongest: in use everywhere, but with certain areas as hot spots that are actively being called upon in the moment.

But...think of it as being more than that. Of our science not being able to fully map and understand the nature of the human brain. Say that the brain, even inactive, even at its points of seemingly the lowest possible activity, is still compressed with all this endless amount of information, stored tightly. Well, then it feels like it is able to expand that greatly, of creating a great expanse of information.

Like, there is all of that stuff, and it is locked away. It is behind a door. We can reach our arms through the door, and pick up small bits and pieces of what we were aiming for. But the whole remains locked behind that door. It feels like the brain has one of the strongest computers in existence, because it has these super-efficient, super-strong connections, it has these abilities to process information in such capable ways that it's almost magical...

...And yet, this is largely an autonomous process, working behind the scenes. When we try to deliberately tap into it, when we try to access this network, the connections are suddenly...not working in the way they naturally by default do. They are being put into a position where the majority of their work is still going on in this process which works automatically, and the small part which is manual can't access the parts it can't control.

In short. My brain works faster than I can process. It will run a flurry of ideas in microseconds, faster than a computer can process, and yet when I try to comprehend what it just said, I see only snapshots of it. It's like...the difference between a camera (or video I suppose) and the real thing: the camera can capture many snapshots, even per second. Heck, high-speed video is just video which takes MANY more 'frames' per second than a standard video.

Yet those are just small snapshots of the whole. The active mind captures those snapshots, and then it must try to fill in the blanks. And in that process, of filling in the blanks...the original picture ends up distorted. I just feel like so much of my potential is wasted off of something I can't control, off of something I can't change. I know I have a beautiful mind. A wondrously unique mind, which has these unusual perspectives on so many things.

Yet, instead of being able to make these things work practically, I feel stuck unable to make sense of them, just...sorta flailing about, trying to make some semblance of an idea whenever I go to work on something. I'm glad that I think in concepts. I'm happy that I am capable of seeing things with such clarity, with that beautiful picture of whole things in my mind.

I'm not so glad that I can't translate those things. Because I just...feel so...limited, restricted. Trapped, in a sense. Like my whole mind is screaming to come out, and only a small fraction of it actually does. Only a small piece of me gets expressed, and I want it all​ to be out there. I hope that makes sense.

Well, I'm slowly getting back to normalizing my life. Still, perhaps, a little depressed, I suppose, but that's nothing new. Been going through that for how many weeks now? Nearly a month at the least. I set up a timer. Admittedly I slept for two hours after the timer went off, but that was mainly because my breakfast was still being made and my dad went about eating his. (Which you know my feelings about by this point. Whole, misophonia thing, and all that.)

I still haven't been doing all that much of anything at this stage. Mostly doing a reread of Go Get a Roomie, upvoting and occasionally commenting on years-old comments. (Though I do occasionally make some, both on new comics and on older ones. My name there is Bree, and the avatar I have is the image of Argus from The Descended upside-down: the comic's avatar, which I adapted to be my image around most sites years ago. I've occasionally considered replacing him with the Ruby one, but I actually think I did the image of him better even though I feel that Ruby would be a better representation of me.)

I'm largely procrastinating on tasks that I know need to get done sooner rather than later, but I am thinking of them. It's just that, well...I only have the energy for so much, right now. And undertaking any of the larger tasks expends way, way too much energy. So by and large, I just prefer to tackle the smaller things. Right now, rereading a comic which makes me ridiculously happy is one of them. (GGaR has, at the very least, tied with Rain for favorite webcomic of all time, if not potentially surpassing it.)

After I catch up there, I've also got Headless Bliss to tackle (since I haven't read it yet but wanted to ever since I learned of it, and with recent developments there's more reason than ever before to begin), which will eat up even more time on my part. But right now, I feel like it's a worthy endeavor. Being at peace with myself is really, really important, and this is one way that I'm going about and gaining it.

I coulda SWORN I had the whole day ahead of me, and yet, now I'm in a race against the clock to get a blog post in before midnight. Huh. Funny how that works. Guess I just let the time get away from me. Oh well. I told most people I'd be back on the 28th anyway, so I guess I do have that extra day.

​I suppose now that I've had a full day to rest and recover, from here-on out, I'll be getting back to scheduling my time better so that this doesn't happen again.

And surprisingly, I don't have anything to really talk about. The trip was really uneventful. It had normal sibling banter, but that's hard to capture in a blog post. Otherwise, it was smooth sailing the entire time, and I can't think of anything to tell, other than that it was...well, a trip on the road.

Back home now, and things aren't exactly smooth with the animals--our older cat, who had previously had no trouble with our kitten, was left behind whereas we took our kitten with us. Now that she's back, however, for the first time in his life, he's hissing. And it's at her.

I also discovered that spellcheck for my blog posts is active when I'm outside the text field, but when I'm actually typing text, it doesn't work, which means that from now on, basically my blog posts are gonna be far more vulnerable to typos and far more likely, misspellings. I do my best to correct and religiously check these things, but I have a very hard time remembering and comprehending exact spellings of some words, especially ones that work unusually. (And especially those that have differences between spoken and written forms.)

Oh well. It shouldn't be anything too painfully obvious. Also, my wireless mouse disappeared. I know I packed it, but I can't find where I put it, in spite of me knowing it got packed. This is...a mild inconvenience, since I USE that mouse in my electronic art.

Not much else for me to say. Right now, mostly playing catchup on my life.

​So, yeah. I'm back. Sorry I don't have any better stories to tell. I know readers tend to like them.

Well, today was Christmas. There were lots of fun things which happened, as well as entertaining things. I'm not quite sure how I could possibly capture it all. On the trip, we had that long period of time in which I was given the ability to properly digest it. But on Christmas, it all happened so fast, most of it was a little bit of a blur, you could say.

I suppose I can share some of my personal presents. From my grandmother, I got a cologne. This cologne had leaked, so it really, really stank--yet fascinatingly enough, our dog absolutely LOVED it. As in, on the spot I had opened the spilled present, he was rubbing...and rubbing...and rubbing himself, over and over and over again. Later, he rubbed against my hand, which I could smell trace remnants of the cologne on, too.

There were also cases of minds thinking alike--two people got the latest Die Hard film, for instance. And then, there were my gifts. My family knows I make a webcomic, apparently. I didn't actually know they knew I posted stuff online. (I mean, I scan it, but I didn't know they knew it was something I shared with others online.) Fortunately, it appears none of them have done their research on what said webcomic IS. It would be ridiculously easy for them to find Red Hood Rider online. (The main fact I have in favor of obscuring it is that it is a close enough title to Red Riding Hood that there are lots of irrelevant results).

There aint a mirror in existence which doesn't make it immediately obvious the author/artist is a girl. So, yeah. It's a good thing they don't actually follow through on their research. But they do at least KNOW that I am an artist. Sooooooooooooo...my sister got a bunch of colored pencils for me, along with sketchbooks for them. Then, my MOM got me a bunch of colored pencils, with sketchbooks to use them in. Also included: each of them bought a smaller book for me to write notes in. You know, the kind of thing I've thought would be handy before, a pocket-sized notebook to write thoughts down as I have them for better blogging.

So, lots of duplicates there. Also included was Kubo and the Two Strings, a film I want to see but haven't yet had the chance to. (It's something important enough to me that I absolutely did not want spoilers for it.) There was plenty of good, funny stuff which happened, yet I can't really vocalize it, unfortunately.

After we finished, we four kids went to see Star Wars: Rogue One. I knew the spoilers about the end, and was surprised that my siblings were okay with it. I thought it was actually a pretty decent film, and my siblings echoed the thoughts about it that I had read others, and which I myself therefore noticed and agreed about. It was, in summary, pretty good. I thought it could have been handled better in some ways, and there's plenty of flawed logic involved, but it was FAR less annoying than the seventh film was, I'll say that.

And given my critical view of modern action films, that's as close to glowing praise as I can give. In some ways, I actually have to say I admire the guts of the filmmakers for this film. Not everything they did worked perfectly, but a lot of it worked well. While there were some small things which felt they were there just to make money (for instance, Jin's final outfit with the two swords looks made to be a toy), but for the most part, in contrast with the seventh film which REEKED of cash-grabbing, this film actually felt authentic. It may not have been perfect, but I actually felt like it could have fit as expanded universe material, which it is supposed to be.

I mean, sure. It wasn't perfect. It had flaws. It probably contradicts film canon in a dozen different ways. But even the films themselves do so, yet alone the original expanded universe material. The general rule for that seems largely to be, "make it as consistent as possible, knowing that there is no way to make it 100% consistent since consistency with one thing contradicts another". But I suppose that's the hazard of handling such an immense franchise as Star Wars, so overall, I'd say the film did really good.

Also, my family is done with Chuck. We finished the last episode. It was alright, but could have been handled better than it was.

Let's see...what else? Today was Christmas dinner, meaning it was a big meal. The main event aside from that was...*shudder*...tree packing. You know the drill. My hands were not only filthy by the time we finished, they were also freezing. As in, I couldn't feel my fingertips, freezing. As in, my hands felt pain from the electrical signal to move, frozen. Not fun, and also really revolting.

And speaking of packing...we're doing that tonight, because we leave tomorrow. At least, us kids do. This...will prove somewhat challenging for me, since I have more stuff now than I started with. We also have one less car than before, and I didn't bring anything which could be left behind, aside from maybe a few games here and there. Basically everything I brought needs to come home, for one reason or another. Using it for art, for the most part. Also, pillow/blanket. That sort of thing. Oh, and clothes. Those, too, need to come back, especially since I may have brought with me the equipment I use at staff meetings.

This also means I've got a long night ahead of me. Wish me luck--I will need it. But hey. If all goes extremely well, you'll have blog posts from me starting tomorrow! Now if you don't mind...I kinda need to start packing my computer.

Well, today's the day before Christmas. You may or may not remember the implications of that. I stayed in bed until 2 PM, recovering as much as I possibly could. I did so, knowing of the arduous task ahead: the tradition every year is that the 'girls' (I am not included in that, and even if I were out of the closet I probably still wouldn't be) get to decorate the tree, and the 'guys' (sadly including me) get to bring up the decorations and the tree.

I have myself half to blame for this, because decorating a tree is a process which involves a lot of complex equations I simply don't have the head for. A sense of aesthetics, combined with knowing what goes where, and mentally orchestrating out each individual piece, taking mental inventory on everything and coordinating from that mental inventory how to use as much as humanly possible to leave as few decorations unused as possible.

I mean, none of those sound like things I can't do. In fact, every single one of them is something I do all the time. Even in combination! I do plenty of art stuff which has that involved. But something about the third dimension, in combination with the handling of so many things all at once, simply doesn't click in my mind. I don't think it's lack of practice, either. If I had to guess, it's simply a case of information overload. And so, because I can't comprehend the monumental task at hand, I get stuck with the physical labor.

Still say we get the short end of the stick, though. Because what's involved is going outside, in the freezing weather. Down a slippery hill. To a shed that animals love to nest in...meaning it is filled to the brim with, for lack of a better term, rat turds. Everywhere. Such that the slightest disturbment will send up a storm of "dust". Which oh by GOD we wish it was actually just dust, but we know very fully good and well exactly what it really is. We then have to unload boxes--heavy boxes--of this stuff...and each of the bins is covered in a solid, icky, gooey, brown grime.

I cannot state enough how absolutely disgusting these things are. There's not enough soap in the world to thoroughly clean our hands after we're done. And by the way...we have to do this FOUR times. Because we have to bring it all up. And then back down. (At least they're empty.) And then, back up, when we take the tree down. And finally, back down, to return to storage. All the time, miserable as we go out in the cold dressed for it, then don't change out of our clothes because we know we have to go again, and wait hours--warm, warm, house-is-80+-degrees hours--for the process to finish, before making the return trip.

At which time, we can finally discard the dirty clothing we were wearing which was absolutely clean before we began.

Mental anguish at where to place the last ornament couldn't possibly match the physical--and given the trauma, also emotional--anguish which we go through every year. And right now, I'm in that process of waiting, not able to fully relax and get into any real task because I know I will soon be interrupted by a finished tree. (At least, in theory.)

The bright side to this? I finally got around to starting to read the book I'm borrowing from my tae kwon do instructor, Tao of Jeet Kune Do. It's a book by Bruce Lee, published posthumously, and I can tell you: I could read, then reread, this book a hundred times over and over again and still find it just as good as the first time through.

There is so much GOOD in the book. And I just started reading. It is an amazing book. So much that can be absorbed. I'm taking notes, and those notes feel inadequate to explain just how profound the book is. Of course, it tells nothing new--the book itself says as much. It can't teach me anything I don't already know. But it is an AMAZING way of reminding myself about those things, and it is simply something I find to be something that can really help me no matter my mood.

Few pieces of literature can capture me that well, yet here I am. I do martial arts. I am also a naturally philosophical person. (Heck pretty much any blog reader knows this already--not just by reading my blog, but because most of my blog readers are people who have seen me posting around here and there and thus they are already familiar with my own insights into the world.) I am also spiritual. And this book resonates with me on all those levels. Even if it didn't, though, I would probably still recommend it.

You might not agree with everything within. I'm sure I won't, either. But I feel it is a must-read for everyone, anyway. Something that can help start a journey, as the book says. Not give answers, not give everything, but something which forces you to actually THINK, and reflect on your world.

Hmm...what else can I talk about? For some reason, me being on vacation makes me naturally unwind a bit and write these big, long posts. (I should really learn how to do this at all times, since while I'm sure my few avid readers appreciate some shorter entries and largely skim my longer ones, they still appreciate more insight into me rather than less.)

I can say I suppose we didn't see the new Star Wars: Rogue One today. (I'm skeptical as to how much I'll enjoy it, especially since I'm spoiled, know the end, and was always fond of the expanded universe.) We talked about doing that on the car drive, since there's a theater in Klamath Falls which is RIDICULOUSLY cheap--we're talking, $6 tickets when at home we'd get those same tickets for the same movie at $16. The theater's smaller, and perhaps slightly lower quality, but is virtually empty and is still a high-quality establishment. So it is a REALLY FREAKIN' GOOD DEAL, and also the one time we four can all come together and watch something.

We watched some of The Hobbit films this way, and also The Force Awakens. (My view on that movie is intensely negative, but that's a story for another day.) So we talked about going, but thanks to the events of yesterday combined with what needed to be done today, we couldn't. We leave on the 26th, too, so that means the only time we can watch is on Christmas, which we might yet do: there's a showing time which is after we'd have opened presents, yet before we'd have Christmas Dinner.

I suppose I can also talk about our entertainment...rather, the lack thereof. We brought a PS3. We keep a screen here so that we can play games on it. Yet the connection, which has worked for years, for some reason this year...didn't. We also were missing a controller. So our dad went out and bought things which can hopefully fix that issue. He just came home about midway through me typing this, so I'm not sure yet on whether it worked or not. I suppose I'll soon find out.

So while my day isn't over yet (it's almost 6 PM), I've done a lot, enough to make this entry. If I decide to write more stories of family shenanigans, I suppose I'll start another entry.

And it's at this point, I should mention that while I might not be posting this until after the holidays are over, at the very least, I am thinking of those who have holidays much harder than I do. I know I have AT LEAST one blog reader who has a tough time, and it wouldn't surprise me to learn that I have more than one. I really am thinking of you all. Like, a lot a lot. I know that, comparatively, I have it easier than most do. I have difficulties, namely, that I am in the middle of nowhere, living a lie, which if exposed would be at the worst of times. The lie is hard, and knowing what would happen if the truth were exposed is something even worse.

Yet compared to others, this is nothing. I may cause a blood bath if the truth came out, but while living the lie, I at least have the appearance of a fully-loving, supportive family. (I suspect that at least half would remain so. My mom knows, and my sisters probably would. My brother's the wildcard here, and my dad and grandfather definitely would not.) We do have some financial difficulties, but we still have so much so many others lack, a privilege few have. Endless entertainment happening, both actively and potentially. Gifts in the plural for each person. A meal large enough to feed twenty people every day. Stuff like that.

I always feel a bit worried when sharing these stories as a result. And also, sad and bad, for what I have and don't value, which I know others would love to have. (The reason I don't value it being that it is based around a lie of me being a guy, and that if the truth were there, I wouldn't have those things anymore, thus, in the back of my mind, I am always ready and prepared to discard them all, thus, why it can be said I have them but don't value them.)

I never, ever, EVER want to make someone feel worse by reading. In any way, whatsoever. I always aim to entertain, to give you something you want to read, something which gives you joy to have seen. So I just wanted it to be clear: yes, for those who have it hard during the holidays. I AM thinking of you. I AM wondering how you are doing, and hoping you are alright, that you survive. (And for some, that is indeed an issue--survival is not a guarantee for some, and that's the most terrifying part of all.) I know you have a hard time.

And by the time you read this, had a hard time, which will be painful to think about. Maybe not over, or maybe you're lucky and it ended after Christmas. Either way, regardless, I recognize that there are those out there--people who I know and CARE for--who right now, are suffering, and suffering quite badly.

I really am wishing you all the best. I wish I could actively give you hugs, I wish I could do anything to support you, I wish there was something I could do aside from simply thinking of you, but I suppose for now, that'll have to be enough.

Lots of love. <3

Well, the good news is, I'm pretty sure I have my answer for what my brother would react like if he learned the truth. The bad news is, rather predictably, there's only one way where I can get confirmation like this, and that's from experience making it crystal clear what the stance would be.

And knowing my household, it shouldn't be hard to guess. To be more explicit, my brother reacted with disgust to "a boy dressed like a girl" on an issue of National Geographic. He went on a bit of a rant which made it rather abundantly clear where he falls on the line of transgendered individuals.

I said nothing. But I died inside a little when I heard those hateful words spewed from his mouth, and all I can see is three generations of hate. Now, granted. I've seen signs of this for a while, what with knowing my grandfather is even WORSE than my dad is, and hearing my brother talk about politics with his views nearly identical to those of my dad, and me knowing that my dad's are, to say the least, extreme.

Yet there's a difference between politics and...this. This is something far more than that. It's a personal thing, and hearing it confirmed for good that I've got no hope from my brother is...disheartening. I know my older sister would be okay. She has a transgender friend, and as far as I can tell she didn't stop being friends with that person. I know my mom is okay, since she already knows. But now...the score stands at two for, and in this current household, three against, with one unknown. And me as the person the subject would be about.

I have to admit: I've grown to have a LOT of distance between me and my dad, in spite of us living together and me relying on him. But in spite of me having distance between my brother, I haven't grown distant from him any more or less than I have any of my other siblings. So that is to say, with my father I'm not sure I hold love for him anymore, yet with my brother I know I do.

So hearing what I heard was immensely painful, because it means that down the line, when I do eventually get the courage to come out, either there will be toxicity from him or I choose to discard that love as to not deal with it. It's really not the best way to do holiday cheers, so I'm sorry to disappoint. This was a big, relevant thing for today, so I felt the need to blog about it, even if it was such a negative thing I wish hadn't happened but all the same did.

I hope I have better news for you tomorrow.

Well today was...certainly an interesting day. This being the trip, there are any myriad of moments I am missing out about telling you about, because I couldn't possibly remember them all.

But we'll start with our start time. Immediately, things did not go according to plan--my sister had weather, work, and car troubles, delaying her arrival until the afternoon, around 1. (The original plan being us leaving around noon at the latest.) At least she brought our brother with her, so that was a saved trip there.

Then, we immediately discover that the car we are driving has a strong imbalance to the lower left, causing a very painful scraping noise especially on rough terrain (the majority of our route), hills, and ESPECIALLY right turns. (Not much of a turn, either. Basically anything stronger than a lane change would trigger it.)

Of course, we did slightly mitigate the problem with a redistribution of weight, namely, placing stuff in the other car, but the problem never fully went away. The trip also got off to a bad start because our dad chose the literal worst way possible to access Safeway, leaving bad omens in the air, which hoh boy did we later collect on. Our kitten, Starlight, was along for the ride for the first time. She was not pleased for the majority, complaining a lot and also getting into a fair amount of trouble.

Traffic was a killer, so given our late start, at our normal exit of exit 21, I predicted a stopping time of 7:00. My siblings took earlier times, 6:30 (my brother) and 6:45 (my younger sister). This, of course, being a subwager of the larger wager. (Arrival time. My brother predicted the latest, 2 AM. My older sister, earliest, 1. My younger sister, 1:30. In this one, I was the one splitting the difference, selecting 1:45.)

We ended up stopping at a rest stop, which had some absolutely DELICIOUS coffee. It was apparently heavenly even black, but they had creamer and chocolate powder mixes available, so I made mine a makeshift mocha. Of course, while free, they were looking for donations--I decided to give them a random dollar bill, which ended up being $5. Soon after, we were to stop at a Dairy Queen for our only meal on the road.

My dad, driving the car we kids were following, missed the turn. This, on a highway. He also ran a yellow light, leaving us stuck behind a red. (And stuck in the wrong lane thanks to following him even though we knew he was wrong.) Then, he made a sketchy u-turn we could not replicate. So we had to drive on a highway for a few miles before locating a place where we ourselves could turn around. (And ended up making a sketchy u-turn anyway.)

Once there, I ordered the largest meal I have ever ordered: two plain half-pounders (basically DQ's equivalent of McDonald's Double Quarter Pounder With Cheese--literally EVERY fast food burger joint has one of those), PLUS a medium fries. (This accidentally got doubled to TWO medium fries.) And on top of that, a hot coffee. (DQ doesn't have much in the way of coffee options, what with their specialty lying in frozen foods, but they didn't need to.)

I was honestly impressed with how few mistakes were made on our ridiculously-complicated order, especially when they ran into technical difficulties getting the order actually properly processed.

By the way, that whole meal? All those fries, TWO burgers, and the coffee? I ate it all. Not in multiple sittings, either. All at once. Well, technically the second burger and the coffee I had in the car, whereas the rest I had in the restaurant, but that's a technicality caused by me not wanting to hold up the family. (Our drivers were done eating, so we took our to-go meals...to go.) But literally the moment I was in the car, I finished what I had started, and honestly feel I could have eaten MORE.

The most notable thing, however, is not my gluttony, but rather, a comment I heard in the Dairy Queen which I know was referring to me. I was getting the ketchup for my fries, and I was REALLY taking a lot, filling the cup to the brim. There were a couple of people behind me waiting for the ketchup, one an old lady and the other someone I presumed was a grandchild. And the old lady said,

"Well she sure must like her ketchup!"

...There was no context where she could have been referring to anyone other than me. Admittedly, this was them viewing me from behind, so they couldn't see me from the front. But all the same, the fact remains. In spite of me being 6'2", from behind, a random stranger defaulted to reading me as female.

Can't really ask for a better compliment than that.

By the way: for the gas stop at exit 21, I won by default. Past 7 PM, and we were still on the road. This rule, my brother insisted we stick by: not adjusting our estimates even with stupid stops. He of course had vested interest in this, though, thanks to him having the latest time on the main wager. And guess what?

We had car troubles not long after that. Rather, our parents' car--the one we DIDN'T suspect there was a problem with--did. So we had to wait an hour and a half for a tow truck to arrive. (At least.) All of this, combined with some stops that were strictly speaking not necessarily needed, added up to where there was no contest. He won by a landslide. We ended up arriving at around 4 AM, about half an hour before I started typing this, giving us a total driving time of...

...14 hours. Almost exactly. (13 and 55 minutes to be more precise.)

I'm sorry, I'm missing SO many juicy details of this trip, I'm sure. It's something incredibly memorable each year, especially given sibling snark. (Sibling snark is always something I've loved. I've taken inspiration from it into many of my attempted webcomics, for good reason. But while I've captured some, the vast majority of it was "in the moment", and is thus lost to the ages when I want to recall memorable things.)

Butyeah. It's past 5 AM, but this is still my December 23rd entry all the same, since it chronicles our adventures as much as possible.

As of tomorrow, I'll be leaving for my normal holiday Christmas vacation. It'll be one of the shorter ones: leaving on Friday the 23rd, coming back home...well, I believe we need to come back on the 26th, which is Monday, so including travel time, that's four days total. (We used to stay for like two weeks solid back in the day.)

Butstill. Time there is time not here. So I won't be able to say much. I'll still write blogs, see if I can give some highlights, but I'm honestly not expecting much this year. My expectations are actually lower than they were last year, and they weren't very high back then.