My daughter, Cat, who is almost 20 years old has a new obsession. Actually, it's not that new really. She's been obsessed with anything Japanese for many years now. My kitchen cupboards are filled with ingredients I can't pronounce, much less understand what are. There are books in our bookcases (I'm a readaholic, I've bookcases everywhere), that have symbols instead of letters, and are read back to front. Many icons on this computer are labled with words I don't know. She cooks Japanese, speaks rudimentary Japanese, and hopes to go there someday (perhaps to live!)
In high school, she discovered a Japanese passion... collecting, customizing, painting, sewing for, and talking about Ball Jointed Dolls. The dolls come in several sizes, including an 18" one. They remind me of marianettes without the controlling strings. And with elf ears.
Well, Cat saved up for one, and finally, via the magic of pay pal and our computer, ordered from an American company who gets the parts from Japan, and assembles them here. Then the wait began. Every day for months, I was informed of the progress of the delivery of the parts to that company. Then the long wait until those parts were assembled, stuffed in a yellow silk-like sack, put in a box, and shipped here. She agonized, complained, chittered with excitement, and finally, her ball jointed doll arrived here. I thought things would calm down then.
Not a chance.
Then she had to order hair for her bald doll. And make clothes. After all, you can't carry around a naked doll! My creative daughter decifered directions from a site, and made jeans and a top for Chi, her doll. From keychains, she created tennis shoes emblazened with Hello Kitty.
Then Chi started coming everywhere with us. To the movies. To the store. To school. To church, where our beloved greeter, Janet, declared jokingly, 'get that ugly kid away from me!' Now I find myself often standing at a checkout, holding Chi, like she was a grandchild or somesuch, while Cat rifles through her purse.
Now I find that the doll is growing on me. Hey, this hobby got Cat learning to sew, use a sewing machine, measuring tape, and my material.... If possible, she's even more outgoing, happily explaining about her doll (and why the blasted wig keeps falling off), and her obsession.
I guess this is a good thing... and it's definately here to stay! And it's far better than those octopus meatballs!