For Christmas I got a massive cold. Yay, me! And my brain wasn’t working very well, so no blogging but now I’m antibiotics and I think my brain has commenced working again (nominally). Oh, and I am breaking out. Which probably has something to do with all the fudge I ate made and standing over the buttery steam while cooking it. Or the stress of the holidays. Or whatever. However, I am still (continuously) annoyed that I am 37 and still (continuously) breaking out like a fricking teenager!
Speaking of which, I’m finally reading Twilight (because, you know, the raving) and it’s a nice, easy read (which is probably good what with the fuzzy-headed sickyness and all); good writing, some character development, blah blah. However, I’m about 300 pages in and not much has happened. So I totally cheat and skip ahead (because I totally do that) and I see after about 70 pages more something happens. Which is good because that’s why I’m reading, and I like the book but I kinda wish it didn’t take 370 pages to get to some action…. except, of course, for all the heavy sexual tension that has been building steadily. Which, I have on good authority, will have no release in this book and it’s like… what? Because seriously, this is a novel about a teenage girl (yeah, a virgin so obviously her button hasn’t gotten switched all the way on yet, but still) and an 80+ year old perpetually teenage boy (can vampires get blue balls?) so hello, there should be hormones! Although we can infer from all the many descriptive passages of his beautiful glacial strength, AND that offhand comment of “oh btw, I could accidentally crush your skull trying to stroke your cheek” that maybe sex wouldn’t be a good idea because of the chance his mighty penis might crumble her pelvis to dust or perhaps injure her internal organs if he were to swirl it around like a swizzle stick in his excitement, or even, (taking this argument to its logical conclusion,) if poor Bella were to survive all the powerful penis handling what might happen if he were to release? Would his sperm (do vampires have sperm?) just ricochet through her body like a million ice bullets, causing untold damage and imminent death, forcing Edward to turn her into a vampire anyway, despite his tortured moral conscience?! (Which would make Alice happy because you just know she’s totally had a vision of Bella becoming a vampire. Duh.)
But, again, I’m only 300 pages in. And it’s not like I need every novel to be full of sex but really, the tension here? It’s extreme. And, where once upon a time (like maybe my early twenties) the anticipation, the tormented adolescent desire, the heavy longing would have been titillating beyond compare… now not so much. I am old (although, broken out like a teenager) and tired and without as much time so now it’s ALL ABOUT the wham, bam (and you get a thank you if you’re good). You know?
ALSO. Whereas the upside of perpetually beautiful skin (damn you Edward!) would be a plus, I could never, EVER become a vampire because they don’t seem to eat chocolate. I mean, what the fuck kind of trade off is that?!
Every time I read a vampire novel that just keeps me up at night. – wg