Regular readers of Eschaton know that I am absurdly proud of my teen, a fifteen year old anime freak with a mind of her own. Plus, she's fairly decent looking, if I do say so myself (and I can, because not a shred of her genetic material comes from me. I've never towered over a boy in my life, except Billy Barty).
For your edification, then, Teenblogging.
And the first Real Dance.
The teen & friend.