Previously, Mia told us that Wes has a beautiful penis.
Calendar Girl (December) Chapter 4:
Mia is now going to to interview three additional artists in order to avoid the real plot for as long as possible for reasons. Gee, can you guess when Mia comes face to face with her mother? Hint, it’s at the end of the chapter after we sit through Mia pretending to have deep insights about art, describing every article of clothes that each and every character is wearing, and also managing to PRAISE THE AMERICAN MILITARY.
Gallery 1:
She was tall and thin with fiery red hair that protruded in fat, round curls from her forest green beret. Her eyes were as bright and blue as a cloudless California day. She wore a thick cream-colored cable-knit sweater, a chunky multicolored scarf, paisley leggings, and funky boots that came up to her knees. When she held out her hand to shake mine, the fifty or so bangle bracelets tinkled prettily against her pale wrist with her movement.
“Hi, I’m Esmeralda McKinney, the sculptor. Thank you so much for coming today.”
When I read this, my first thought was, “Of fucking course her name is Esmeralda.” Also, she is most definitely not Mia’s mother. Funny, that!
“I take flat sheets of metal, cut them into smaller unmeasured pieces. Part of the fun is taking seemingly random snippets of metal and bringing them together into something whole. As I heat and maneuver the pieces, they start to take shape.”
Yes, can you believe that part of the fun of making the art is making the art? Shocking, I know.
I touched the edge of the pedestal, not daring to touch the art itself.
Good instinct, Mia. I imagine art is like another person’s dog. DON’T PET IT WITHOUT ASKING FIRST!
“You mean when you start a project, you don’t know what it’s going to be?” She shook her head.
“Nope. I guess, like a writer who sits in front of an empty page waiting for the story to come, I just let the pieces tell me what to create.
Oh…oh that explains so much of Calendar Girl.
“…Like life. You can’t plan everything beautiful. Sometimes beauty takes form right in front of you.”
As you can imagine, Mia comes away from this conversation like, “WOW that was so profound. This is all about me and my beautiful life!”
Gallery 2:
A petite Asian woman with long black, silky hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and onyx-colored eyes met us at the front of the gallery.
[…]
Overall, her skin tone was a lovely toasted brown, a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks the only deviation from a flawless complexion. Her lips were painted a pale pink, which, coupled with the warm tone she wore, gave her a rosy glow. From top to bottom she was clothed in a burgundy tunic and matching leggings. A thick gold chain hung from her neck that caught the track lighting above.
WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS? Also ‘lovely toasted brown’ sounds offensive, and Mia describes a grand total of 0 other people’s skin tones in this chapter so. If the racist shoe fits.
There are a bunch of distorted photographs that are meant to have a deeper meaning. “I made a beautiful woman…look flawed!” and “I made a sad homeless woman…look happier! Now I shall profit off her misery!!”
Mia is like ah, yes, I see the deep artistic meaning here. She and Wes start making out, and the photographer snaps a photo of them.
“Sorry, it’s second nature when I see something that needs to be captured.”
I grinned, not at all disturbed by her actions. “But you don’t have any distorted glass.”
The artist smirked. “It wasn’t needed.
Omg I hate you all.
A Brief Interlude About a Character I Don’t Remember at All:
Mia decides it’s time to ask her assistant Kathy to be her permanent assistant. I remember nothing at all about Kathy, but apparently she is perfect, and she is also another character whose life Mia has Changed For the Better.
More importantly, Wes is a total douchebag the whole time.
Mia asks Kathy how she thinks things are going.
Kathy’s eyebrows crept closer together, and she frowned. “I’m not sure I’m following, Ms. Saunders.”
“Soon to be Channing in two weeks!” Wes interrupted, wrapping his arm around my chair and grasping my shoulder possessively.
Shut up, Wes! This conversation isn’t about you.
“That’s wonderful. You two do look perfect together,” she gushed. Wes ate her compliment up. His arm tightened on my shoulder, and he nuzzled my chin.
“Couldn’t agree with you more, Kathy,” he agreed, sloppily kissing my cheek, ear, and neck.
Oh god, barf. Kathy accepts the promotion. Let’s get the hell out of this terrible scene and go praise America.
Gallery 3
Interviewing Bob, I found out that he’d served two tours in Vietnam, starting back in 1965. During the long hours of waiting for action, he’d cut chunks out of the trees, and using a pocketknife, he’d whittle small totems or figurines out of the wood.
After Bob is discharged for “service injuries”, he decides to pursue art full time.
His story was inspiring and uplifting when so much of the world was in strife, dealing with the ravages of war and wanting nothing but peace.
Oh, okay. This isn’t too bad so far.
Bob’s story wasn’t easy to hear. He had been wounded protecting freedom, and sitting in a window of an art gallery in Aspen Colorado, he didn’t regret a single day of his service.
Well, okay. I’m glad he didn’t regret his service and, uh, I don’t really want to get into too much of a discussion about the Vietnam War…but “protecting freedom” is starting to toe a little bit at that propaganda line…
“People like you, my dear one, make it all worth the risk,” he said, smiling and waving as Wes tucked me under his arm, and we headed out into the cold.
[…]
I was still reeling. Bob said I made it worth the risk. I knew he meant to fight in a war. Soldiers fought and gave of themselves in ways that civilians could never possibly comprehend. It took a special kind of person to risk his life every day for over three hundred million people he didn’t even know. Pride. Service. To Bob, those things, and each life, were worth it.
Why is this happening? Why was Bob just randomly like, “You make it all worth the risk” and IS MIA SURE HE MEANS TO FIGHT IN A WAR. Why is Mia waxing poetic about the military again? Oh dear god, let’s move on from this scene quickly too.
GALLERY MCFUCKING 4!! I Mean. Gallery 4
Her back was to me, but from the body shape, the fluid movement of her arms— like a dancer— she was not only recognizable, her identity was downright devastating. Like seeing a ghost.
Weirdly, Mia’s mom doesn’t seem to have been expecting her. She gasps Mia’s name when she sees her. And then she’s like, “Darling girl, it’s been so long.” Which is a super weird way for her to talk. It’s like she’s a rich mom from Dynasty.
Not knowing what else to do, I said the only words I could muster.
“Hello, Mother.”
Hahahaha. I never saw this coming! What a surprise!
Is the entire trump cabinet pointing a gun at Carlan’s head as she writes these later books?
I ship Esmeralda and the Asian woman now. It’s my headcanon that they’re lesbian artists needing to be freed of this horrible book series, doing and saying all the stupid shit they can to accomplish this, but instead of being thrown out of the plot entirely, their weird actions are accepted.
I just ran across someone in real life who is like Carlan about the military, and let me tell you, as someone whose father and brother served, it is CREEPY.
“he agreed, sloppily kissing my cheek, ear, and neck.” I’m surprised he didn’t lift his leg and pee on her.
Well, if we go by Mias typical reaction when having surprise talks with family members, the next chapter will start with her making out with Wes while mom is standing there, feeling awkward.