I cannot necessarily remember Christmas Eve day. Well, I did work on that picture and more or less abused my left arm, wrist and hand terribly. I took breaks in between, but for the most part, I remember little else. I worked on it deep into the night and forgot all other things I would do by midnight. I finally finished the drawing around six in the morning.

I went to sleep then, on Christmas day, and woke again around nine, I believe… perhaps somewhere around eight… I sat in the living room, willing myself to keep awake. When it was near ten or eleven, my sister finally woke up completing all who were needed. We opened gifts one by one.

I received the things I had expected and was quite pleased. My brother spoke during the month of getting me a gift. When it came to the last present, he showed a rather large box. I automatically guessed it was a sword. Despite my abilities to predict, I still was utterly pleased and expressed it greatly with loud whooping sounds.

In the end, I retreated to my room and worked on trying to stuff in the new things, thus having to rearrange much in order to fit them in. The gift was indeed of blade… it was a rack with three samurai swords. I took a picture after I had it all set up.

After that, I took to reading my new books or piddled. I really do not know. Soon enough though we had to take showers and then went to eat Christmas lunch/dinner. It was a decent event. We went out to eat for once. I seem to go prim and proper whenever we eat out. I do not know why. Perhaps it is due to nervousness. I tend to work that way. It is interesting to say the least.

We returned home later then… perhaps that was when I took my nap. Yes, that likely was when. I finished a book I had to put down to go eat and then took a nap. I awoke sometime later… I think nine.

The rest of the night I cannot quite recall, but I did start reading a book I had been curious about ever since I saw the 2004 Phantom of the Opera movie. It is likely a “Phantom Bible” for fans of the story. “Phantom” by Susan Kay, it was. I found it more engaging than the original novel, sad to say. I suppose it was because it was because of the first person perspectives and humor given to Erik. I read hours straight until it reached around three in the morning. I had only about a hundred pages left out of that 450-something paged book, but company was to come over around eleven, so I needed to rest some. I awoke around ten after not falling asleep until around four or five. I took a shower and then spent the rest of the time for the guests to arrive.

My mother’s cousin and daughter, along with her aunt and uncle came to visit and eat lunch with us. I was my usual self – pretty much, I kept to myself. When it came to eat, I was the first to fill my plate and sat outside where I was designated to. I never eat much during the holidays. I suppose I am too accustomed to TV dinners to care much about other foods. I ate in my usual silence. My two brothers and father eventually joined me as I ate and let my bare feet freeze. When I was done, I lingered briefly, but soon entered the house once more and did my usual disappearing act.

I did not keep out of sight too long. I have to decency to stay in sight when family is around. I took up my book and set to work on reading the rest of it. When people were finishing their meals, some wandered to the living room where I read. The TV I could handle. It was when people started to rock the chair, tug on my hair and bother me did I start to become perturbed. The last stray was when my brother wound up the music box that plays silent night.

I covered my ears and started to read aloud so I could hear only my voice. Sadly, reading like that causes me not to be able to absorb what I read very well. I swore a couple of times before and received reprimanding looks from my brother. I did not care. I hoped people would get the point that when I am concentrating on something I will become volatile when disturbed.

When the music box started to slowly tune down, I was about to relax and resume reading how I was earlier until my eldest brother did it again. I swore loudly, picked up my book and damned being around everyone. I retreated to my room and managed to be content ever since. I can stand only so much.

I finally finished the book around three or three thirty, I believe. After that, I got onto my computer and worked on what I had neglected the night before. When I finally peeked out of my room, the guests were gone. I had not expected them to leave and not have someone tell me of it to bid them farewell. I guess it is my fault. I mean I was the one who disappeared when things became too oppressing to me.

Nevertheless, despite the rudeness of leaving while guests were here, I still consider the decency to see them when they leave. I would have well stayed in the room if I had not been driven to a mood that would be quite disagreeable. Part of me wonders if I am merely writing these thoughts out to keep myself from becoming self-loathing. I find myself hard to comprehend as much as I do almost everything else.

Anyway, other than that, I have had a decent holiday. I have concluded, however, that whenever I read normal, hold-in-my-hands books, I tend to pull my hair out with veraciousness. At the crown of my head, from the length and width of my pointer finger it is without hair. My mom says when people who concentrate hard, some tend to fool with their hair. Apparently, I go beyond that and my Trichotillomania kicks in with full force. Oh well. I guess if I ever go out, I will need to wear a hat or pull my hair back.

I guess I should post this. If I wait until the end of the week, this will be ridiculously longer than my usual entries.

~ The Balding Duck…