So I read the Twilight series. I didn't want to, because, hello, I am WAY too cool and mature to read vampire books and buy into the whole "you complete me" bullshit romance genre. I'm married, remember? I know that real life consists of cleaning up piss on the bathroom floor, asking for a courtesy flush and fighting the urge to stab your husband as he snores on the sofa while you're trying to get two crabby kids ready for bed.
But, under much diress and with much prodding, I read it.
Fine. I'm lying. I asked Salley if I could borrow the stupid first book. Actually, I begged.
And OH MY GOD, I loved it. LOOOOOOOVED it.
I don't know why, but it hit some long-dead romantic, vulnerable nerve in my body. All of a sudden, I actually wanted to spend time with my husband. Like, alone. Sans kids. Weird, right?
Unfortunately, there have also been some negative side effects of stepping into the (sigh) Cullen world. For example:
- I'm madly in love with a fictional teenage vampire who was really born in 1901.
- I'm madly in love with the actor who plays said fictional teenage vampire in a movie, but only if he's wearing full vampire attire & makeup.
- I've watched the DVD about 23 times and have a tendency to pause every single frame said actor is in.
- I hate the whiny human teenage girl he's in love with. Bitch.
- I find myself suddenly doodling crap like this all over the place.
- I have totally unrealistic expectations of men now. Instead of hearing things like, "You are my life now", I hear things like "You didn't wash my underwear?" and it PISSES. ME. OFF. Seriously...Edward would die for Bella and I have to promise sexual favors to get the living room vacuumed. How is this fair?
And, on top of all this, I've finished the damn series. What the hell am I going to do now? I have no reason to function. The sun is no longer shining when I get out of bed every day. I've resorted to Googling random shit in my spare time, in hopes of forgetting the Cullens and the love affair we once had.
Twilight has seriously jacked me up.
What am I going to do now? Go back to reality, you say? Nay, good sirs, nay.
Somebody find me a new series to obsess over, pronto. This "real life" shit sucks ass.