(Still no sign of that guidebook on How To Be An Adult that I thought we all got issued at 18 or something...)
The dirt cake went over pretty well. There was about 1/3 of it left (it's a small class), so I left it in the breakroom and sent out an e-mail. (I didn't want to take it home - it's a lot sweeter and gooier than the kind of things I normally like as desserts, so I figured I wouldn't eat it up).
My non-traditional student (the one who has occasionally greeted me as "young lady") asked me if I was "29 and holding." I laughed kind of ruefully and then he asked if I would tell what year I was born in. And heck, despite all the old traditions of a lady not telling her age, I don't really care...so I said. He said, "I'm STILL older than you are." And one of the women in the class laughed and said she would have guessed I was in my early 30s, that I looked really young. (It may be my hairstyle. Then again, as I said: "I've never had children. I think raising children ages you" and she laughed (she has kids herself).
I got to thinking about the ways in which I am an "atypical" (well, "atypical" to my way of thinking) adult - never married, no children, prefer cartoons to sitcoms* or reality shows. I'd rather shop for books than for shoes. I talk to other drivers in silly voices (I have an "angry Mickey Mouse" voice I use when someone does something particularly idiotic on the road) to avoid getting angry while I drive. And I still like stuffed toys. (As evidenced by my joy over getting a giant narwhal for my birthday).
The funny thing is, that last one may not be so weird - they were talking on the radio this morning about some story that got started when the British version of the Travelodge chain was trying to return left-behind teddy bears to their owners...and found that many of those owners were not children. So they took a survey, which is probably a statistically biased sample, as it's a survey and not a random poll, but still, in that survey, some 35% of Brits admitted to still having a teddy bear on or in the bed with them. (I also read a survey in the U.S. that stated that some 7 to 10 percent of adult travelers brought a small stuffed toy with them on their trips). So maybe I'm still weird (35% is not a majority, even if that survey can be trusted statistically), but I'm not AS weird as I thought.
(*I tried watching part of "Two Broke Girls" last night. When did sitcoms become so raunchy? I mean, I have my inner-12-year-old part that laughs at "yo mama" jokes and stuff but wow...the jokes on that show embarrassed me, and I was sitting alone in my living room. Or maybe I'm just a bigger prude than I realized)
And the cartoons: I think I said back at the beginning of the "Derpy Voice" controversy that maybe I would imagine her hoarse "boyish" voice (the one some people interpreted as sounding "mentally challenged") was that "she just had a bad cold that day"? Well, here's some art about that. And I like that idea. I think I'm going to make it headcanon. ("Headcanon" - how you imagine things in an ongoing series of stories to work out in your own mind.)
In knitting news, I bound off for the armholes (they're just simple drop sleeves) on the back of the Basketweave pullover. I'm also working on the heel flap on the second of the just-simple-striped sock. I kind of want to start something new (like the Little Ice Age socks: I have the pattern and the yarns I dug out of my stash for them sitting on the ottoman next to my knitting chair) but I want to get something finished first.
3 comments:
For most of my adult life people have thought I looked younger than my actual age. But when I reached 50 it suddenly stopped happening. No one ever tells me anymore that I look too young to have a grandchild. No one mistakes me for my son's sister. (That really did happen a couple of times) Everyone just assumes that I am the age I am. Frankly, it's a little annoying.
When I was 23, I looked about 23. After that, all bets were off.
Keep in mind, though, I am admittedly no good at estimating ages; I seldom believe my own, despite owning several mirrors.
When I was in Basic Training in the military, a girl had brought a stuffed bear with her. We all took turns hiding it for her through inspections. After one would get inspected in an area you would sneek it to an area that already got inspected. The funniest thing is we all took it so serious. We even took it to the field during combat training.
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