I had no interest in reading the Twilight books. Sabs told me they were awful but addictive, yet I have this thing called the Faulkner Theory of Reading Priority. See, there are only so many reading hours left in my life, and there's a lot of Faulkner left to read (and you have to read Faulkner more than once). So if it comes down to reading a book about a sparkly vampire or a dysfunctional Southern family, I go for the Compsons over the Cullens. Especially because I can go see the Twilight movies, which feature Robert Pattinson in foundation two shades too light for him.
But then Jen gave me the four-book Twilight series, and I was still on crutches so I was happy to have any sort of entertainment possible. The books are enjoyably awful, with clunky prose and cliché dialogue and typos galore. I read the first in an afternoon, the second the next, and went through the third the following weekend. Unfortunately, the glee of reading Twilight passages out loud to my roommate and her boyfriend began to fade. And then I could walk again, so the final book remains unread. (From what I have been told, Edward uses his fangs to do an impromptu c-section on Bella, who gives birth to a TALKING BABY.) I hope this guy sticks with his reading-the-books project, because I cannot wait to see what he has to say about that.
But then Jen gave me the four-book Twilight series, and I was still on crutches so I was happy to have any sort of entertainment possible. The books are enjoyably awful, with clunky prose and cliché dialogue and typos galore. I read the first in an afternoon, the second the next, and went through the third the following weekend. Unfortunately, the glee of reading Twilight passages out loud to my roommate and her boyfriend began to fade. And then I could walk again, so the final book remains unread. (From what I have been told, Edward uses his fangs to do an impromptu c-section on Bella, who gives birth to a TALKING BABY.) I hope this guy sticks with his reading-the-books project, because I cannot wait to see what he has to say about that.
Labels: Robert Pattinson
My mother is not immune to New Moon mania. "I was watching Jimmy Kimmer or one of those new late-night guys and those Twilight people were on," she was saying tonight. "They looked bored to death. And I know you think that Robert Pattison is a hunk, but you know, he has unkempt facial hair."
(She is right on both counts, for the record. Even though I would never use the word "hunk.")
"And I don't get the fuss over this Jason character and his abs," she continued. "They showed a clip of these giant wolves, and it was like Lilliput, with the wolves bigger than everyone else."
(I interrupted to tell her yes, I've seen the scene. She describes it in detail nonetheless.)
"There are all of these cartoony wolves and it looks like a Disney kids' movie. And Belle is running toward Jason and she yells, 'Run, run!' and then HE turns into a giant wolf, too. I don't get it."
(Betty has not read the Twilight novels or seen the movies. Understandably, the wolf thing makes no sense. It doesn't if you're familiar with the saga, either.)
"I don't understand why that Jason has his shirt off all the time," she went on.
(Same here. I mentioned that Sabrina and I felt uncomfortable while seeing him shirtless on screen.)
"You two! You two are old enough to have babysat him! You dirty old ladies!"
(I explained that our discomfort did not stem from lust, but that it felt weird and wrong to see a teenage boy strut around shirtless and "sexy.")
"Well, he is not cute! He looks like Howdy Doody!"
(I defended him, saying that he's only 17, give him a break, he's a kid.)
"He does look like Howdy Doody," my mother proclaimed. "He's got that pug nose and big horsey teeth! Not cute! Anyway, I think this Moon sounds like a bad movie. Buffy should take care of all of those Twilight bozos."
(On this, we agreed.)
(She is right on both counts, for the record. Even though I would never use the word "hunk.")
"And I don't get the fuss over this Jason character and his abs," she continued. "They showed a clip of these giant wolves, and it was like Lilliput, with the wolves bigger than everyone else."
(I interrupted to tell her yes, I've seen the scene. She describes it in detail nonetheless.)
"There are all of these cartoony wolves and it looks like a Disney kids' movie. And Belle is running toward Jason and she yells, 'Run, run!' and then HE turns into a giant wolf, too. I don't get it."
(Betty has not read the Twilight novels or seen the movies. Understandably, the wolf thing makes no sense. It doesn't if you're familiar with the saga, either.)
"I don't understand why that Jason has his shirt off all the time," she went on.
(Same here. I mentioned that Sabrina and I felt uncomfortable while seeing him shirtless on screen.)
"You two! You two are old enough to have babysat him! You dirty old ladies!"
(I explained that our discomfort did not stem from lust, but that it felt weird and wrong to see a teenage boy strut around shirtless and "sexy.")
"Well, he is not cute! He looks like Howdy Doody!"
(I defended him, saying that he's only 17, give him a break, he's a kid.)
"He does look like Howdy Doody," my mother proclaimed. "He's got that pug nose and big horsey teeth! Not cute! Anyway, I think this Moon sounds like a bad movie. Buffy should take care of all of those Twilight bozos."
(On this, we agreed.)
Labels: betty, Robert Pattinson
(in chronological order)
1. On the train to work, there were about 20 kindergartners loudly chatting about their field trip. I was not thrilled by the noise until one little girl began singing "Jingle Bells" with completely (and unintentionally) wrong lyrics. "On the farm it is to ride in a one horse hope and sleigh..." Wrote that one down in the Moleskine.
2. I found out that a friend had also been dumped less than two weeks after her father's death, so we had a big empathy fest.
3. Sparkle Vamp is awkward. (Don't judge me.)
4. When I got off the train tonight, an inbound train was stopped to let someone alight, so I had to wait to cross the tracks. A toddler was looking at me through the window of the train, so I gave him an exaggerated look of delighted surprise. He grinned back so hard that his eyes practically disappeared. As the train took off, we waved to each other. I smiled my way home.
5. Graham made a video in which he visits JC's studio. They are ridiculous and funny.
1. On the train to work, there were about 20 kindergartners loudly chatting about their field trip. I was not thrilled by the noise until one little girl began singing "Jingle Bells" with completely (and unintentionally) wrong lyrics. "On the farm it is to ride in a one horse hope and sleigh..." Wrote that one down in the Moleskine.
2. I found out that a friend had also been dumped less than two weeks after her father's death, so we had a big empathy fest.
3. Sparkle Vamp is awkward. (Don't judge me.)
4. When I got off the train tonight, an inbound train was stopped to let someone alight, so I had to wait to cross the tracks. A toddler was looking at me through the window of the train, so I gave him an exaggerated look of delighted surprise. He grinned back so hard that his eyes practically disappeared. As the train took off, we waved to each other. I smiled my way home.
5. Graham made a video in which he visits JC's studio. They are ridiculous and funny.
Labels: Robert Pattinson, strangers
Nobody believed me when I told them how good the coat smelled. They thought I was being ridiculous or playing up my silly crush. But they were wrong, as they soon discovered upon smelling the jacket for themselves. I could have sunk myself into it all day.Labels: Robert Pattinson
Last night, I dreamed that Robert Pattinson and I were in love, driving past wheat fields in Michigan. Blame Sabrina for this. Last fall, she started reading those corny-ass Twilight books, which I have always dismissed as a second-rate Buffy knockoff. Not that I've read them, but come on, the high school girl who falls in love with a "good" vampire? I decided not to read the books, because there are countless pieces of actual literature that I have yet to read. Better to spend my time with those.
I didn't read the books, but when Sabs wanted to go see the movie version of the film, I was game. Why not? The actor was pretty cute, I said. So we spent the entire time cracking wise at the screen and slowly developing teenage-style crushes on Edward Cullen. (Byronic hero-lite! Great hair! What's not to like?) It would have ended there, except dummy me looked up interviews with Robert Pattinson. And then it was all over, because Pattinson is more interesting than his character. He likes modernist literature and le nouvelle vague, which made me think that I could take him on my Mies Van der Rohe walking tour of Chicago and he'd like it. (I always thought that was a great date; the guy I took it on was unimpressed.) Worse still, a colleague had interviewed Pattinson — at the very same moment that I was in cultural hell interviewing Paris Hilton — and when I asked her to please tell me that he was a jackass so that I could squash my crush, she couldn't do it. Instead, she said he was endearingly awkward and open. Crap! I love awkwardness!
Sabrina and I agreed that I only needed to find out something unpleasant about Pattinson, and then I could stop blushing every time a new paparazzi photo came out. We Googled phrases like "Pattinson cokehead" and "Pattinson snob" and, in one desperate moment, "Pattinson bad breath." Nothing! If anything, our endeavors had the opposite effect: The more interviews I read, the more I crushed out on his nerdiness. (In one, he alluded to liking older women. Well, hey, I'm an older woman, I thought.) You can see how Tiger Beat things were becoming. One day, Sabs found out that his favorite musician is Van Morrison. So far, this and his smoking are the only things that have cooled things down. That's not a very long list, which is why, very pathetically, my junior-high self has resurfaced to insist that if only we were to meet, Pattinson would be charmed by my equally oddball tendencies, and I'd make a Nick Drake mix tape, and I'd make him omelets in the morning. This is why I am on a strict no-Pattinson media diet. See, I told you it was embarrassing.
I didn't read the books, but when Sabs wanted to go see the movie version of the film, I was game. Why not? The actor was pretty cute, I said. So we spent the entire time cracking wise at the screen and slowly developing teenage-style crushes on Edward Cullen. (Byronic hero-lite! Great hair! What's not to like?) It would have ended there, except dummy me looked up interviews with Robert Pattinson. And then it was all over, because Pattinson is more interesting than his character. He likes modernist literature and le nouvelle vague, which made me think that I could take him on my Mies Van der Rohe walking tour of Chicago and he'd like it. (I always thought that was a great date; the guy I took it on was unimpressed.) Worse still, a colleague had interviewed Pattinson — at the very same moment that I was in cultural hell interviewing Paris Hilton — and when I asked her to please tell me that he was a jackass so that I could squash my crush, she couldn't do it. Instead, she said he was endearingly awkward and open. Crap! I love awkwardness!
Sabrina and I agreed that I only needed to find out something unpleasant about Pattinson, and then I could stop blushing every time a new paparazzi photo came out. We Googled phrases like "Pattinson cokehead" and "Pattinson snob" and, in one desperate moment, "Pattinson bad breath." Nothing! If anything, our endeavors had the opposite effect: The more interviews I read, the more I crushed out on his nerdiness. (In one, he alluded to liking older women. Well, hey, I'm an older woman, I thought.) You can see how Tiger Beat things were becoming. One day, Sabs found out that his favorite musician is Van Morrison. So far, this and his smoking are the only things that have cooled things down. That's not a very long list, which is why, very pathetically, my junior-high self has resurfaced to insist that if only we were to meet, Pattinson would be charmed by my equally oddball tendencies, and I'd make a Nick Drake mix tape, and I'd make him omelets in the morning. This is why I am on a strict no-Pattinson media diet. See, I told you it was embarrassing.
Labels: men i would have dated, regression to adolescence, Robert Pattinson, sabs, sleep
