My Face Is Red

I have a secret shame.  It’s really hard to raise my head and write it out loud.  I, um, all right, here it is:  I go to see the Twilight movies.  *sighs*  Shouldn’t it feel better to admit stuff like this?  I remain mortified.

I don’t read the books.  At least I can say that.  I tried to read the first one to see what all the fuss was about, but c’mon, how many pages of angst and ashen skin can you take?  In my case, not enough.  These are not Harry Potters, let’s just put it that way.  I can’t even say that I really like the movies.  Yet, I go to every    last    one.  I have to admit that I  addicted to bad TV, too.  Not reality shows; I’m not a fan of those voting-off-the-island shows or the scare-the-pants-off-you shows or even the see-what-I’m-cooking shows.  I do, however, watch Gray’s Anatomy and Angel reruns with great enjoyment.  To further my point, I’ll tell you that back when I was dating my husband, a good night would be spent watching B horror movies.  There’s nothing like mutual enjoyment of The Ghost of Drag Strip Hollow to cement a relationship.  It's watching the sheet descend along the guide wire that makes it fun!   Anyway, my point is that a movie doesn’t have to be good for me to like it.  I cannot explain this, I'm just saying.

This week my friend and I snuck out for lunch and to see Twilight:  Breaking Dawn, Part I.  (Part I -- yes, really.)  I figured I was safe.  Paneras on a weekday, that's innocent enough, and if I did see someone I knew, I wouldn’t have to tell them that we were going to a movie, any movie, right?

But my friend?  We plunked our trays down next to a table occupied by  two of her friends.  My pager flashed and buzzed, and by the time I got back with my tray, she’d told them everything.  No shame, that one.  There are two women I can never look in the face again.

So there we went, Twilight:  Breaking Dawn, Part I.  And well, it wasn’t so bad, not quite as insipid as the other.  Perhaps I’ve become inured to the inanity.   The plot of this one is still awfully bland, but the photography of the north western scenery and the sequestered ocean island were spectacular.  Jacob’s abs were, as always, well worth the price admission, and, while we’re waiting for Part II, at least we know Bella’s finally, FINALLY arisen with red eyes to true blood lust.  Be wary, girls; this is the result of having sex, even society-approved marital sex.  You wake up the next morning deathly ill and pregnant and then you have to, HAVE to become a vampire with endless amounts of energy and wealth.  Hmm, why didn’t that happen to me?