What Dad says: Do you still want that dragon neighborhood project that you did in your art class a couple years ago? I put it in the garage.
What Ade hears: Do you still want your 2-year-old child? I put her in the garage.
What Dad says: You should take the parts that you want, like the little clay dragons, and dispose of the rest.
What Ade hears: You should take the parts that you want, like the skull or the pelvis, and dispose of the rest.
And my mom didn't understand why I wanted to take the whole thing upstairs to take it apart. Oh well. I'm not throwing anything away. I'll just partially disassemble my child and stash the pieces in my closet. *sigh* Non-artists don't understand. We artists may not be very practical, but our works are pieces of ourselves. They're our non-anthropomorphic (usually) children. To us, a fire in an art gallery is like a fire in an orphanage or school with few or no survivors. Writers are similar (being an artist-writer hybrid, I understand this sort of thing). Our stories, poems, plays, etc. are like children to us. They may not turn out so great, and they might need work, but we really parent the hell out of them. So alas, I must take care of the dragon neighborhood, even though it was kind of falling apart anyway.
And my uncle called today to update us on my Pop Pop's condition. He had surgery a while ago (I think it was another pot hole on the neverending hernia highway), and he's been recovering. But it's a long, slow recovery, his body is a mess, and he might not be able to move around and do stuff like he used to. That sucks. Pooey.
In other better news, my neighbor Elli IMed me today. She just turned 9, and tomorrow my other neighbor is taking her to Chuck E Cheese and Toys'R'Us. I was telling my mom how much I like those places (such a little kid at heart...), and she talked to my neighbor and asked if I could go with them. So tomorrow I get to party like it's 1992 (gosh, I feel old). I like my neighbors. Elli is so funny, and she's an honorary kid sister to me. My other neighbor is cool, because she's the kind of lady who'll ask us if we want to go to the exotic pet store 15 minutes before closing to get crickets for her lizards and then treat us to ice cream. So yay!
And I found this
article about what goes on in the minds of teenage girls. I'd say it's accurate in terms of the general population. But people should remember that not all teen girls are alike, and not all obsess over boys, celebrities, and appearances. The author of the article is an editor of a teen magazine and based the article on generalizations from letters. But not all teen girls read those magazines, and girls have concerns beyond what they write letters about. I consider myself rather "hip-to-the-know" on modern teenage girls, considering I was one not too long ago (I still kind of have the mentality of one), I have one for a sister, I'm friends with a lot of them (let's see, almost 1/3 of my LJ friends are teenage girls, including those in their early college years, and I have many more), and I read a lot of young adult fiction. Hmmm. I
should be the editor of a teen magazine. With no ads, no big sections on making yourself look "hot." It would be for all genders too. There would be lots of book and movie reviews, and the "fashion" section would feature diversely-sized people wearing reasonably-priced clothing that's not necessarily what the supermodels get paid to wear or too flashy, tight, or revealing. The advice sections would be educational, and the magazine would educate teens about all sorts of taboo topics without scaring them, sugar-coating anything, or condemning natural biological functions. It would encourage abstinence until people are ready and responsible and encourage safe sex for those who wish to participate. Only really cool celebrities, and not just the young, beautiful ones, would be featured. I'd do an interview with Tim Burton or Tamora Pierce any day. It would promote interesting extracurricular activities, provide yummy easy recipes, have do-it-yourself projects, and other cool stuff. But really, I'm not editor material, and have no leadership qualities. Someone else can make this magazine. I'll just be on staff.
Rambly, rambly, rambly. I really should get the disassembling done before one of my parents comes in and starts nagging.