My Weekend with the Vampires

So I’m just going to fess up, like a big girl. Like the 33 year old mom and MA-degree (almost) holder that I am. I am a fan of the Twilight saga. Never. In. My. Life. have a series of books held me entranced such as these four novels. It’s embarrassing. I, mostly, admit this addiction with a bile taste in my mouth because of the throes of other Twilight fans out there. I don’t identify with most of them, majority of them being about 20 years my junior. Up until I actually started reading the books, I didn’t know anyone who I, um, admired who were fans of the books. Unbeknownst to me, there are, apparently, quite a few avid readers in my extended circle of friends who have also fallen for this fantasy world.
It all started last week when I rented Twilight the movie on a whim. It was late. We were running home from a day of errands. Jeremy stayed in the car with Hayvn while I ran in to pick out a movie quickly. We wanted something mindless. There was nothing, said for Twilight. It was the only movie that seemed nothing BUT mindless—a teenage love story with fangs. What’s there to think about? And then we watched it. “Er, um…I guess I see the allure…” we said to ourselves about 30 minutes in. That Edward guy is certainly freaky, though, I thought. And why doesn’t his actions repel instead of entice that Bella girl? But still. There was something familiar about that Edward guy—his thick hair, his strong jaw, his grey wardrobe…I felt like I knew him from somewhere. By the time Jeremy fell asleep and things started getting dicey for little Bella, I knew I was a goner. When Radiohead’s “15 Step” came on during the end credits, I promptly grabbed the trusty iphone and started investigating this Twilight world. I HAD to know, right then and there, what was going to happen to those two. Luckily, I stumbled upon a thread on some random website that gave me all the answers from the final book. Whew. I could sleep that night.

But by morning, I was itching to read for myself. That Edward guy…something…about…him…

So after getting some good advice from a reader friend I trusted, I started in on New Moon. Then, three days later, I had Eclipse in my hot little hands. Then, less than 24hours later, I was launching into Breaking Dawn, which was finished, sadly, this morning at 8:15am. Hum…luckily, knowing that I couldn’t quit the Cullens cold turkey, I had decided halfway through Breaking Dawn to read Twilight after I finished. Odd, I know, but I loved them so much that I wanted to meet them all again from the beginning.

As I flipped through Twilight this morning and thought about this strange addiction, a thought occurred to me. I realized who Edward from the movie reminded me of. Morrissey with a side of River Phoenix! And who are these two men to me? Well, and I know I’m really showing my age here, but Morrissey was one of my first loves. I couldn’t have been more than 12 years old when I fell for him—his velvety voice, his thick hair, his strong jaw, I could go on...And then there’s River. Probably, as teen crushes go, he was THE crush for me…. And if that Edward guy wasn’t the 21st century version of Morrissey/River...? damn.

It all clicked. And I felt a bit better about myself. I didn’t like the idea that I could fall for a fictional character who was all of 17 years old. I liked myself even less for falling for the guy who plays him in the movie. He’s what? 23? Good God, that’s 10 years younger than me! But if I was just drudging up old crushes in a new light? Well, that was alright with me. Besides, Morrissey is still my senior, so it's not like I'm lusting after this 17 year old child, right? Right.

Anyway, I write all this—I confess all of this—so that one day Hayvn will understand why I went a week without eating, really sleeping or hardly playing with him. Lucky for me, the kid won’t remember this period of his life. And, God willing, I will never find myself so uncontrollably consumed again with a piece of fiction. But, in the off chance that this does leave a scar on him, here’s my pitiful excuse. I blame it all on Morrissey and River Phoenix.