Well, recent events have been some what unexpected, (as they usually are.) My clumsy entrance into FA was quickly followed by that whole read-only thing and consequently, I haven't really been motivated to practice drawing or writing as much as I had hoped too. Also contributing was my rather hectic schedule and general laziness. One the upside, I have recently gotten into IRC and have talked to and met other furries for the first time. This has been an awesome experience for me though, due to me overestimating my ability to multitask, it too has consumed more of my time. More good news is that I got a 2230 on my SAT so don't think I will have to take it again.


I've decided that to start working on my writing and it has been suggested to me that I force myself to write a little blog/journal entry thing every day to make some progress. Feel free to ignore this of course, I'm just going to post these so I have a sort of outside pressure to help me along.

Friday morning I woke up to a scene from my dreams: it was snowing. Normally I would be jumping for joy and celebrating the chance to relax at home, but not this time. This fox wasn't going to school today anyways, he was going to a funeral. I threw a few final things into my bag and proceeded to "hurry up and wait" outside with my siblings. The snow that had eluded me for two difficult years was out in force this morning, covering me in its icy embrace as I stood outside in the pre-dawn darkness.
Finally, around 5:00 AM, a car comes sliding down the our snow covered road and stops in the general proximity of our house. Nobody in Seattle drives anywhere when its snowing if they can help it, so we knew this was our ride. The driver gets out and greats us in a thick Punjabi accent that we can't understand, but he sounds friendly.
He drove us to the airport where we got ready for the next leg of our trip to our grandparents home in Leesburg Virginia. It was a trip we had been expecting for a while. My grandfather struggled with Parkinson's since before I knew him and had been quickly failing in his health since then. A little over a year ago he took a dramatic turn for the worse and was essentially in a coma. That is the latest date I would put for his death even though his heart continued to beat. The rest of my family also seemed to consider him dead so he was left alone, buried in the sheets of his hospital bed.
I had always heard good things about him, yet never really knew him. The same could be said for the rest of my extended family on my father's side. Living on the west coast, we were always considered outsiders and rarely saw any of them. When at family reunions I tended to stay by myself.
After a few obligatory days of social awkwardness that I won't go into in much detail. the day of the funeral arrived. On sunday we dressed up in formal dress and headed to the funeral parlor where my grandfather (a retired brigadier general) was in his dress uniform inside a flag-draped casket. I took a look at his medals that spanned from the American Campaign in the Second World War to Vietnam and Thailand in the 70's. He was an engineer, and the many medals he recieved from foreign governments seemed to sugest that they prefferd being built roads and bridges to being bombed.
One of his sons-in-law was a minister who lead the ceremony. Passages were read from the bible that to me seemed rather irrelevant or silly. Some cried but I honestly felt little emotion. When we went outside it was pouring down rain. Some said it was a sign that God was crying. Earlier they said the sun was a sign of his joy.
We followed the hearse to the cemetery, where an honor guard was waiting and a bagpiper was playing. The hushed sullen tone was interrupted by the sharp crack of rifle fire as the customary 21 gun salute was given. The us army ranger brigadier general who was leading the honor guard folded the flag and gave it to my grandmother. We drove off to the bagpiper playing and the seven sergeants looking fort heir missing cartridges.
Back at home it was insisted that everyone, including me, drink a shot of scotch. It burned but left a pleasant warmth. Afterwards, to avoid the socializing, I went down to the basement and snooped through various files hidden down there, what else was a fox to do? I took pictures of a few documents I found interesting, including several personal notes from general Westmorland.
After a while I was fetched to go back to the hotel and pack up again.
Now we go to Florida to visit family there. Oh, I just rememberd, it's almost Christmas isn't it? Now that we are on short final into MIA I will sign off and put everything away.

My dog that was long! I sincerely hope nobody read all that. Any more of these will be much shorter next time, I just had a lot going on and couldn't even scratch the surface of it.

It seems that I ought to try to introduce myself here. I'm a red fox from Seattle, Cascadia who is currently a junior in high school. I discovered the fandom about 4 years ago but having Asperger's and being introverted, I never quite managed to climb out of my den and put myself out there. Soon school became rather hectic and time consuming and the little free time I had was primarily wasted on video games, surfing the web, and things of that nature instead of working on my writing or drawing. Most of the fandom was also neglected except for a few pod-casts (and all the porn). Later on what kept holding me back was my struggling to discover my fursona. My strange fascination with foxes is what brought me here years ago and I still identify as one, but almost everything else about me has changed to some extent.
I should probably go to bed now as I am taking the SAT tomorrow, scratch that, today.(12:01AM)
December 7th... ...a date which shall live in infamy...