Finally, a little peace: my parents have gone to work, my brother to school, my older sister has gone back home, and little sis is still in London. The house is empty except for me and the pets. By no means is that an empty house, though; the dog and four cats manage to make their presence known. Connor is sprawled out over half of the family room couch, Charlie is perched on top of the refrigerator, Naomi is fast asleep in front of the heat vent, Madge has hidden herself away somewhere, and Miranda is wandering about looking for some company. The major difference between having them around and having my family around is that the animals are much much quieter. And, they don't mind if I sing along to Jeff Buckley at the top of my lungs, no matter how ugly it may get.

I feel like I can finally breathe a little more. Spending so much time with my family during the holidays always seems a little unnatural to me, as if I'm losing some of my sense of self by being absorbed into the 'family unit'. Spending time at home only accentuates how much I've developed my own rhythm, my own lifestyle. Assimilating that onto my family's way of doing things can be downright hard, and, especially since I'm away from my usual surroundings, it's my priorities that get lost in the family shuffle.

Well, I guess I'm being a little melodramatic- things aren't really that bad, I'd just rather be back in St. Paul. Actually, this year my mom has been better than ever about understanding that I have my own way of doing things. In the past, she's always tried to drag me closer to her "go to bed at 11, get up at 7" schedule, but she's been pretty good about not minding that I'm up till 1 or 2 and don't get up till 9 or 10 in the morning.

My relationship with my mom has also gotten better in less superficial ways: Ever since I came out to her this past fall, I feel like we have a much healthier and more honest way of relating to each other. The other night, for instance, I kept her up until 12:30 talking about all kinds of stuff, from my ancestors' various mental illnesses (I come from strange stock, I tell you), to the differences between my siblings and I, to how I've always percieved myself as the black sheep of the family. I even felt comfortable letting her know that I'm no longer straight edge and that I occasionally drink at school, which is something I used to keep her at arm's length about.

As cheesy as it sounds, it's really a good feeling to finally get to know my mom as a person and not just as a parent. Just the fact that she understands me well enough to know that I'm a mature enough 18-year-old to have a fairly equal and honest relationship with shows that, well, she understands me pretty well.

Food: Christmas cookies, almond crescents to be precise.

Music: Jeff Buckley, _Grace_, because I'm too lazy to change the CD from yesterday.

Link: Ceej's Black Book has been around for quite some time, but she's never lost the knack for straightforward and observant entries.