I stayed up until 3 am this past Monday night, and there was no alcohol or nothing involved.
I was finishing the second book of the Twilight series. A book that is, more or less, intended for lovesick 15 year old girls aching to be taken away by the ‘bad boy’ in their lives. Or 24 year old men who are just obsessed with everything vampire and need to find a way to incorporate it into their lives. Even if that means reading trashy young adult novels.
These books are, at the same time, one of the greatest and most horrendous things I’ve ever read. While I love the vampiric portion of the book, such as their powers, insights, history and even drawbacks, I’m constantly teetering on this precipice of INSANITY.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had to be around a teenaged girl. And because of this, I was wholly unprepared for the amount of RIDICULOUSNESS that envelopes their everyday lives. Everything is just hyperbolic to the extreme, it makes me want to vomit every page. Just sitting there on the subway, reading and vomiting, because I have no choice.
If his eyes aren’t ‘smoldering’ or ‘intensely beautiful’, then his arms are ‘sinewy’ and his body ‘of the gods’. Imagine taking a cheerleader and funneling coke into her nose before dropping her in a room with all the guys on the cover of Teen Beat, or whatever the hell it is girls get their giggly’s from, and just watch what happens.
Bam. You’ve got this book.
And yet I am now plowing through the third book, Eclipse.
But I don’t know if I should be proud of that or not. I’ll let you know after I finish the fourth and final book. That is, unless I don’t morph into some cracked out Gossip Girl and start posting pictures of Zac Ephron on here with captions like OMG LIKE, TOTES FAB!
Written documentation, people…if that happens, shoot me dead in face.