The heart wants things that go boom please

It’s a funny thing about life – no matter how long you’re doing it you just keep learning things. For instance, I am definitely not a teenage girl. I’m not actually sure I ever was one.

I was the last person on the entire planet to read the Harry Potter books. No particular reason, and once I finally read them I liked them, but it just took me forever. Similarly I’m the only person on the planet with a Y chromosome who has not yet read the Twilight books. But I’m on it! Thanks to my lady mentors, The Queen and Risky, I’ve got the first book and I’m making my way through it. But honestly I’m finding it a lot of work.

The reading’s not difficult – it’s simple and quick, as most books for this age group tend to be. It’s just that I have to stop every few pages and groan, or clutch my head in my hand, or look to the sky in dismay. These things take time. Slow the reading WAY down. Also it makes me tired so I have to read in short bursts. Short, aggravated bursts.

I’m sorry, but I just have no threshold at all for the agonized pining for the beautiful boy. The “Oh, will ne notice me? Will he? WILL HE?” or the “He’s ever so dreamy, I hope he looks this way or I might DIEEEEEEEE!” And I wish I could say I only feel this way since becoming an old, jaded spinster lady. But honestly this crap made me want to chew glass even when I was, myself, a foolish high school girl. (It’s also possible that I was an old, jaded spinster lady by the age of 16. Frankly my high school social life would actually make way more sense if that were true…)

I just can’t stomach the “my heart stopped as I looked into his eyes, I felt him look straight through me, our hearts beat as one” CRAAAAAAAAAAP. Love is great and all, but it’s not a good enough excuse to be a moron. And still this book seems to be scattered throughout with these moments where our hero does dumb stuff because the boy hero is pretty, pretty, oh so pretty. (or maybe because he sees into her soul. Same thing really.)

So I’m gonna keep trying to work my way through this very popular, very saccarine, very frustrating book. But when I’m done I’m probably going to have to read something with a lot of shooting. Shooting and maybe some explosions. Big, macho explosions.