Well, I finally succumbed and finally watched Twilight last night. Now that most of the hype has settled down and with the second movie release on the horizon, I thought it finally would be safe. But just for the record, let me stipulate that I didn’t in any way pay to see it, because, well, I would be embarrassed to pay for something so obviously aimed at the Hannah Montana-loving audience. Yes, I know plenty of people my age and older who watched it and gushed about it and to be honest, I’m stunned.
I felt like I was watching an afterschool special and by the end I swore that if there was one more angst-ridden stare into the camera with tumultuous music in the background, I was going scream. I was also pretty positive that Edward’s hair was getting higher and higher the longer the movie continued and by the end I was pondering how they were keeping it there – were they paying a midget to hide on his head and hold it up? Obviously, I was thinking about this stuff just to distract me from screaming at the emo-ness of it all.
Ahhh…young love and teenage angst. It made me want to puke. Nearing-middle-age bitterness anyone?? Lol.
One thing I did get out of the movie though, was a reminder of emo-ness and how there once was a time when I wrote bad poetry and thought that I would die if Master was a few minutes late for our 8pm msn chat session. If I’d seen Twilight 4 years ago in the height of my emo period when I was having ‘out of body experiences’ about my calling to be a slave and sticking forks into my heels to prove my submission, I really would of been in emo heaven (well, I didn’t really do the fork thing, but I thought it’s been such a long time since we had a fork joke…)
I kind of miss that emo-ness, the broodiness, the passion where you’ve got to have something or you think you really will die. I guess somewhere along the line I grew up and grew out of my emo phase, learned some patience and all about delayed gratification and put my Evanescence cds away. Once I’d done that, the superficial intensity didn’t seem so important anymore, but the happiness and contentment on a different level did.
Oh and in case you were wondering, I’ve mostly finished shaving the poodle. Tomorrow I might see if he will cooperate enough for me to run the clippers over him once more to even-up his coat, but for the time being he’s gone from hear me roar lion/yeti:
To sullen sphinx with a hint of goat:
Is that my yeti outfit in those bags?
Anyone in the northern hemisphere need poodle wool for a scarf?