I'm away from home, at the moment. Or, well... I suppose depending on how you'd look at it, perhaps I'd be home. I'm over at my parents' house. They've been gone for the weekend, and got home just to go again in an overnight trip to Fresno, this time taking my brother with them, to do something or other at the college. Ah, yes. My brother, E.J., is heading off to Fresno State soon. I took the opportunity to sleep at the house since it's a half-hour closer to work. It saved me a little gas, at least. I had intended to go home tonight, but they asked me to stay and feed the animals. And bribed me with twenty bucks. So I agreed to stay another night. I would have without the offer of money, but let's face it, I need the twenty bucks, and being able to raid the fridge instead of buying food also has perks.

My brother and I can be like ships passing in the night, almost, barely saying greetings to each other. He gets me minotaur Magic cards, knowing I only want them for the art and will never learn to play, and I... well. I'm not sure what he gets out of associating with me, honestly. It's not like he particularly cares about the drawings that I show him, and we don't speak, really. Which is probably just as well. We're both too much like our father in different ways. No wonder all three of us really get on each others' nerves. I have no doubt that we all love each other, but I don't think we like each other very much.

Funny... in the strange sense, I mean. I found out E.J. has a livejournal, by accident really. Using my stepfather's computer to check my email and such, I ran across it when I meant to go to my own livejournal page to check on that story I have posted. It popped up as his, since he was logged in. No, I'm not going to give a link and subject you to it. He's 18. You just really don't want to go there. It makes me morbidly curious as to whether or not I was that angsty when I was his age. I don't think so, but one can never be sure without standing in someone else's place. He's got more to angst over, anyhow, simply because unlike me, he got interested in the opposite sex rather early. Also unlike me, he's a people person. He has many more friends than I ever did, and tends to, if not lead, than at least be right up there in front, involved where I only tended to participate merely because the momentum carried me along. If that. I am of the firm opinion that we were born in the wrong months. He was supposed to be the Leo, and I the Taurus. Not that I seriously believe in astrology, mind you, especially since I'm no leader and I don't like the spotlight, which Leos are supposed to crave. And come on, what self-respecting minotaur doesn't want to be a Taurus? ;)

I suppose I'm feeling... regretful. I wanted to be somewhere else, doing something else, by this point in my life. And I don't really have anything to show for it, for doing what I did instead of going to a four year, getting a degree. I wanted to be a veterinarian. Now I wonder if sometime I'll manage to squeeze in the few years needed to become a registered tech, work full time, and still be able to somewhat pursue artistic and literary endeavors. So far, just keeping a job and a place has proven beyond my capabilities. Doubts. I don't know if I'll ever be able to do what I wanted. If I'll ever graduate from college, and be the first woman in my family to do so. I never spoke about it, but that meant a lot to me.

Mreh. I know folks will roll their eyes, and snort, and call me a puppy - which I loathe - but I feel... old. I'll be twenty-eight this year. Two more until 30. Given that anything after 60 - if I make it that far - is probably not going to be all that enjoyable as the old body starts to give out, that's half my life frittered away, and nothing accomplished. There are better artists, there are better writers. Much better.

But I'd better stop, before I really get maudlin and melancholy.