A few things about Jeff and me

1. We've known one another since we were 3 years old.
2. We went to high school together and he was in band.
3. He was Homecoming king our Senior year. Nerd.
4. We both lived in College Station at the same time, but never ran into one another.
5. The first time I ever really hung out with him was at Big Woodrow's in May 2007.
6. I had just gotten out of a long relationship and didn't want to date anyone.
7. Jeff is very persistent.
8. He's also very honest and genuine.
9. After letting me know that he liked me and thought that we'd be great together, I told him I still didn't want to date anyone and that I just needed some time.
10. He told me he'd give me as long as it took.
11. The next week we went out on our first date.
12. He took me fishing.
13. We didn't catch a thing, but I had a great time because he made me laugh the whole day.
14. Jeff's hilarious. Seriously. We immediately had a very quirky bond that grew from quoting Lord of the Rings and drunkenly singing Johnny Cash at the top of our lungs.
15. He first kissed me in his truck, parked in front of my friend's house.
16. He told me he'd never sell that truck because that's where we had our 1st kiss, and that he never wants to be rid of it.
17. Every time he kisses me, my mind goes blank. Still. Even to this day.
18. He has wonderful, rough, manly hands.
19. He told me he loved me for the first time standing in my driveway. I remember exactly where I was standing.
20. He can laugh and poke fun at me without hurting my feelings.
21. I can do the same to him.
22. He has short arms. Like a T-Rex, and I often make fun of him for it.
23. He's very awkward around babies.
24. He plays guitar and it makes me smile.
25. We have so many inside jokes it's ridiculous.
26. We nearly have our own secret language full of stupid words like, "Zee."
27. He tolerates my whining.

More later.

Things I Love

Here's a very long list, in no particular order of things and people and stuff that I love:

Juicy peaches

Star Wars

Lord of the Rings

Quoting Lord of the Rings with Jeff

Sunny, warm days

Driving with the windows down

Laughing

Cheese

Rare, tender steak

German potatoes

Crawfish

Crawfish boils on Saturday afternoons

Harry Potter

Bic 537R blue pens

Planners

My engagement ring

Jeff

My Mom

Pat

My family

My soon-to-be-family

Salsa

Chips

The Grilled Chicken Salad with creamy parmesan dressing from Cafe Express

The Judds

Pam Tillis

Lady Gaga

Knee high boots over jeans

High heels

My Jessica Simpson cowboy boots

Warm pretzels with melted cheese from the mall

Sbarro spagghetti

Cupcakes

Baking

Cleaning

Falling asleep

Taking pictures

Flowers

Lucy

Lucy's kisses

Fishing

the smell of salt-water

Ninny

Lost

The Sookie Stackhouse novels and True Blood

Lauren Garcia

Helen Merritt

Rachel Brothers

Tina's stuffed mushrooms

Tina

Books that make me cry

Wedding magazines

Wedding dresses

Wedding planning

Pretty lighting

Sunset

Childhood memories of Schlitterbahn

Two stepping

Good, live country music

Jeff's freckles

Jeff's red hair

Zeee

Fluffy white towels

Floating the river

Warm water out of the hose during summer

Watermelon

BBQ ribs

My Mac

Home grown pickles

Playing washers at the beach on a cloudless day

Beer

Wine

Clementines

Grapefruit

Sleeping in

Camp

Lever 2000 body wash

Fall colors

Easter weekend

Theme parties

The Beatles

Jeff, David and Andrew playing guitar

Noah

Dogs

Linus in Hats

Jeff's cocoon

Snow

Cow

Baby tigers

Watching big storms roll in

My Best Friend's Wedding

Space Balls

Friend's weddings

Sex and the City

Texas

America

History

School

Learning

Discussing literature

Stretchy pants

Socks

Reef flippy floppies

Riding in a boat

Swimming

Laying on a float in a pool

Kayaking

Williams-Sonoma

Shopping for kitchenware

Surprises

Fresh, crisp paper

The smell of freshly cut grass

Picnics

Lauging so hard I cry

Dancing

Decorating my apartment

Discussing Lost theories

Swirl

Starbucks Lemon Pound Cake

Starbacks skinny vanilla lattes

Cheese enchiladas

Vacations

Ireland

Amsterdam

Jogging at Memorial Park on a sunny day

Calling in "sick" to work

Paid sick leave

The smell of Origins in the Galleria

Shipley's donuts and jalepeno sausage and cheese kolaches

Saurkraut

Legal pads

Foot rubs

My Mom's head rubs

Falling asleep on the couch

Reading on the patio

Opening the windows

The smell of clean cotton

Writing

Sititng in the driveway with family and neighbors

Soft sheets

Kissing

Up

A Christmas Story

Ralphie

Men with rough hands

Clay Walker

Eric Northman

Vampire Bill

Christian Bale

Batman

Judging red carpet fashion

Snuggling with Lucy

Puppies

Swinging on a tire swing

Jumping on trampolines

Austin City Limits

Working outside in the dirt

Climbing trees

Laying by the pool, drinking mojitos

Getting letters in the mail

Little kids

New haircuts

Baseball caps

Going to Astro's games and sitting in the nosebleeds, eating hotdogs and drinking overpriced beer

Eating lunch with my mother

Pub grub

Buffalo wings

Pizza with lots of marinara

Blazin' Noodles at Pei Wei

Target

Ninny's homemade bread

And turkey

And dressing

And gravy

Gumbo

Mix CDs

Massages

Candles that smell like clean linens

Puns

Warm rolls

Dewberry pie

Rope swings

Painting

Falling asleep in hammocks

Lake LBJ

Brooches

Pay day

Pineapple banana orange smoothies from Central Market

Chick-fil-A

The Pioneer Woman

The Office

hulu

Sun dresses

Retro swimsuits

Kiwis

Ham and cheese sammiches

...and so much more...

I really enjoy thinking about things that I love. It makes me thankful for all that I have and have to look forward to. Like getting married. And Karen's baby. And lots and lots of other really wonderful things.

Heidi Montag

Current headlines are focusing on the elective cosmetic surgery that 23-year old Heidi Montag has recently undergone. After having both rhinoplasty and a breast augmentation three years ago, Heidi again went under the knife to have another 10 procedures done. Seventy percent of these were above the clavicle. The ten procedures included:

1) Mini brow lift

2) Botox injections in forehead and frown areas

3) Nose job revision

4) Fat injections in her cheeks

5) Chin reduction

6) Neck liposuction

7) Ears pinned back

8) Breast augmentation revision

9) Liposuction on waist, hips, and thighs

10) Buttock augmentation

Heidi, circa 2005, sans plastic surgery

Heidi, circa 2006, post breast and nose job

The surgery took nearly 10 hours, four more hours than what is recommended for elective cosmetic surgery. The procedure has illicited a wide variety of comments, both positive and negative. Obviously, it depends on what each person finds aesthetically pleasing, whether you will find her more attractive or less. But the dominant reaction has been "Why?" Why would a beautiful, healthy, seemingly happy young woman feel the need to alter her appearance in such a drastic and scandalous way? Many have taken the cynical, cruel route and demonized Heidi for sending the message to young girls that plastic surgery is the answer to physical insecurities. Some have stated that it's sad that Heidi felt the need to do this:

I find this to be on the more unfortunate end of the spectrum. Obviously, it is absolutely her choice to have the surgery. She's an adult, she can afford it, and we luckily live in a country to allow us to do what we deem necessary for our own bodies. I will never think less of a woman who opts to go under the knife so that she can continue her life in a more secure way. I've seen firsthand what a great thing plastic surgery can be for not only women (and men) who just want a little belly fat removed, but for a breast cancer survivor who opts to have the breasts that have been removed replaced with saline so they can have sexual confidence. Hell, even for women who were just never able to get any bigger than that A-cup! For years I've considered having a nose job! I've always wondered what I'd look like without the massive witch-hump that I've had my entire life (thank you, paternal grandmother). Have I acted on that curiosity? No. Will I ever? I don't know. Not in the near future. But when and if I do, it will be a decision that I only I can make.

All of that being said, I do think Heidi's case is quite sad. She's never been America's Sweetheart, in fact, she's quite the opposite. Gossip blog sites have banned writing about her and her husband, and they've done damn near everything possible to garner media attention in any way imaginable. It's pretty safe to say that they are two of the least liked people in Hollywood today. They're famous for simply being famous and for being on an incredibly superficial "reality" TV show on MTV, called "The Hills, " which follows the lives of young girls and guys who come from incredibly wealthy families living in Southern California. Heidi and her now-husband, Spencer Pratt basically used every outing to be photographed by the papparazzi and pose in the most ridiculous and inane situations imaginable. Needless to say, they annoyed the crap out of everyone, and turned the world against them.

As I was saying, Heidi's case is a little unfortunate. Is she doing this for publicity? Does she truly feel better about herself now? Is she completely batshit crazy? Where's her mother? While I can defend plastic surgery when done for the right reasons, I have an incredibly hard time justifying this amount. Everyone has something about themselves they'd like to tweak or change a bit, but to completely alter the way you look?

It seems as though there are several underlying issues for Heidi. She's in a high-profile industry (but that's self-inflicted--you can stop being a reality tv star quite quickly), she's in the media spotlight and subjected to catty gossip bloggers' judgemental comments on her apperance, etc., but when the day is done, she's the one who decided to do this. You can have people call you unattractive, but it takes self-confidence and a humble heart to be happy with yourself. I'm not trying to say that getting cosmetic surgery means you aren't confident, but there has to be a sane, confident base there to begin with. You have to be ok with who you are inside before you start messing with what you consider to be unattractive on the outside. I'm worried that Heidi's decision isn't coming from a desire to feel right in her own skin, but from a deep insecurity with herself as a person, and no amount of plastic surgery can change who you are.

It's similar to putting make-up over a tattoo; it may hide it for a while, but the tattoo is still there and you have to take that make-up off when you go to sleep at night. Heidi may feel more beautiful, but whenever she washes her face and lays down to go to bed, she still has to come to terms with what she's made of her life and who she really is. You can't hide from yourself and your conscience, and no boob or nose job can make you a good person.

I truly hope, for Heidi's sake, that she had this surgery for the right reasons. I hope she doesn't wake up at 30 and wonder what the hell she did to herself. I hope she starts to work on herself as a person, digging deep to discover what she truly wants out of life, what makes her happy, and has the courage to make the changes to become content. I wish the best for her, and pray that she has the will to maybe get out of the spotlight for a while (or forever) and start doing what makes her whole and happy.

2010

Well, well, Time, you've made a fool of me once again. You're back to taunt me with all the things I didn't do, all the things I did badly, and all the mistakes I've made over this past year.

Let's be honest: 2009 wasn't a good year for most. It sure as hell was tough, if not brutal. The economy was (is) miserable, there were more homeless people holding up signs on my way home from work, ugly political battles were strewn across the tv screen and newspapers... Le sigh.

Personally, 2009 was a year of enormous lessons. I did a lot of learning and growing up. I recognized the fact that even if I don't want to, I have to be responsible for myself, which, actually wasn't that bad. It's nice being self-sufficient. Terrifying, but comforting all the same.

I was laid-off in 2009. I had to move away from things and people that I love dearly (my boyfriend, his sister and brother-in-law, Cameron peeps, snow, Hill House, skiing, etc.) to make sure I could afford to pay rent on a house in which I no longer lived. My dream of living in a new state crumbled pretty quickly around my feet. It seemed like just as soon as I had gotten comfortable in Colorado, I had to come back to Texas. Not only move back, but move back into my parent's house. There are few things more humbling that having to move back in with your parents. There's nothing wrong with my parents, in fact, they're fantastic, understanding, loving, and fun to be around. It's just that I thought I was done with that. I moved over 1,000 miles away, found a job, and had a life! Then the pretty rug was snatched right out from under me. Back into my old room, I went. And it wasn't even really my old room! My little brother claimed my room the second I moved out! So, I got to move into his smaller, unfamiliar bedroom. Ick!

But that was ok. I rationalized it by telling myself that it wasn't my fault. I was laid off. It was the economy's fault. It wasn't as though I was incomptetent or lazy. I did my job well, and had a boss that hated to see me go. Knowing that it wasn't through any fault of my own, I was able to justify moving back home.

Then came "The Revelation." Those who are closest to me know what this involved and know what a toll it took on my mental state, sanity, and heart. To put it as mildly as possible, I lied to my family about something so important, that I was sure I would be shunned and banished and beaten and chased with burning sticks. I should have been. It's what I deserved. But I wasn't. I was afforded the greatest lesson I may have ever learned: forgiveness. To say I have a loving, understanding and compassionate family is the most horrendous understatement ever uttered. Suffice it to say that my confession was one of the most difficult moments of my life, and I am genuinely humbled to have people in my life who love me as much as they do. That ordeal was not only the most impacting of 2009, but perhaps my life. It was definitely a pivotal moment for my morality, thought processes, and actions. I liken it to a movie: the main character lies, go through hell and high water to be redeemed, but doesn't want to suffer the consequences, and finally, in the end, makes the right decision and puts the audiences mind at ease. Coming Spring 2011. Just kidding. :)

Oh, 2009, you cruel mistress. How dare you make me face adversity, honesty, and trials! Don't you know I'd much prefer to have no troubles in life? Gosh! 2010, you better treat me well.

Hell, 2010 is already treating me well. I had a very calm, quite New Year celebration with Lucy at my apartment. Just what I wanted. I began working out and eating right. I even cleaned out all of the craptastic food from my fridge and pantry. Yeah. Watch out! I have a budget that is realistic and that I'm able to stick with, and I'll be out of debt (ALL debt) by June of this year, if things go as planned (which they never do, but hey). I have an amazingly solid group of friends who I love and cherish. They provide me with advice, humor, sarcasm, shoulders to cry on, and most importantly, happiness. My family remains an omnipresent force of good. Dean will be graduating from high school in May. I am so proud. There will be a new member of the Bauml clan this year, because Jeff's sister is expecting!!! There aren't enough words (and not nearly enough happy ones) to describe how thrilled I am about this development. Karen will be a beautiful little pregnant woman and an absolutely fantastic mother. Ryan will be an amazing, loving, fun father. They just need to hurry up and move back to TEXAS so that I can pester Karen every second of every day.

There is so much to look forward to this year. I hope that I don't get bogged down in trivial crap this year. I hope I learn new things and become more open-minded. I hope I stand up for myself and my loved ones. I hope to make the world a better place, even if it's in some small way.

I have plenty of resolutions to attempt to follow this year, but they can be summed up in one quick sentence: Become a happier, healthier, more responsible, honorable, loving, and compassionate person. I don't think you can really go wrong with that, right? :)


P.S. More (trivial) things to look forward to this year: The final season of LOST, the rest of the 1st season of Glee, the 3rd season of True Blood, the new Sookie Stackhouse novel, the Universal Studios Harry Potter theme park opening, and the first instalment of the 7th Harry Potter movie!!!!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYY!!!!

I'm getting old

It's true. When my Mother e-mailed to discover what I so desperately wanted for Christmas this year, I responded with "well, I don't really want anything, but I do need some mixing bowls and a muffin pan." Mixing bowls and a muffin pan. Is this what I've become? I also requested measuring cups/spoons, a potatoe masher, a pizza slicer, a can opener, chopping knives, cookie cutters, a rolling pin, a spoon rest, a ladle, etc. I asked for a rolling pin. I'm in my mid-twenties! I am young, hip, and cool! I live in the thriving metropolis of Houston, Texas! I can literally walk to the Galleria and to numerous trendy, expensive bars and restaurants! You'd think I need sexy heels (which I do), flashy jewelry, short skirts and shiny, low-cut tops!

Nah. I just need a rolling pin.

I asked for this for a reason. I'm not just a freak. I was baking cookies the other night, and I wanted to use my brand-new cookie cutters that my mother so kindly bought me. Making cut-out cookies involves rolling the dough onto the counter in order to create a flat pallet off of which you can cut out your cookies. In order to do this, I needed a rolling pin. Well, seeing as I didn't have one, I used the next best thing: a wine bottle. After covering said wine bottle in flour, I proceeded to roll the dough out onto the counter. Needless to say, I was incredibly unsuccessful. Dough got everywhere, particularly the places it shouldn't have been, specifically, my mouth. :( It was a mess. I was a mess. AND I had to throw away the wine bottle because I was too lazy to wash it off and place it back on top of my cabinets, which is where my wine bottle graveyard is located. I guess I'll just have to drink another bottle of wine. Too bad.

Moving on, the whole point of this entry was to explain how lame I now am. Hopefully, I have successfully conveyed that message to you. If not, let me elaborate. I could easily be talked into not doing anything fun on New Year's Eve this year. Yeah. What the hell? For some reason, sitting at home, drinking Irish coffees and watching movies seems like the most fantastic idea in the world to me. This isn't to say that I don't have incredibly fun options: I could drive to either Austin or Dallas to attend fabulous house parties at good friend's houses. I could also hop on down to San Marcos to spend time with my amazing sister and niece, which I may do, just not on New Year's. I, too, could go home and party it up with some old high school peeps. OR I could stay in Houston and go with college friends to a pub, dress to the nines, party my ass off, and stay at a super-nice hotel. But all of these options involve money, driving somewhere, and me showering. Sitting on my ass at home, eating chicken pot pie does not, however, involve me bathing. Or even having to resemble a respectable human being. This option seems just glorious, and that, my friends, makes me old. And somewhat anti-social, but I can live with that.

Polished

I'll never be one of those women who always looks "put together."

I wish I were. I wish I had the motivation to look simply fantastic wherever I go. Even just to Target. I will forever be the "jeans, t-shirt, and flip-flops" kinda girl. And I'm okay with that, really, but it does make me feel a little less feminine and stylish when I see a woman walking her dog at Memorial Park in the perfect dog walking outfit: perfectly fitted running pants, and tailored sweater that enhances the female physique, perfectly pony-tailed/tousled "I don't care, but it looks fantastic anyway" hair, cute Chanel gloves, Burberry rainboots, and the cute well-behaved dog that isn't attempting to choke itself on its leash by running 100mph faster than I'm walking. Ugh. Then, when she gets done walking the dog, they hop into their lovely, clean, un-dented vehicle that doesn't have Whataburger cups strewn about everywhere. Who lives like that?!?! An example of what this may look like would be Charlotte York, from Sex and the City:

photo courtesy of http://img210.imageshack.us/i/charharry7jg.jpg/
The only thing I can figure is that they must put out 150 times more effort than I. They're the type of people who wake up an hour early to go to the gym, eat breakfast, read the newspaper and pay bills all before they even leave for work to begin the day. I, on the other hand, hit snooze until I'm forced to launch myself out of bed in terror that I'll be late for work, leaving only enough time to brush my teeth, pull my hair back, and throw on something that hopefully matches. I don't like to think of it as laziness, I just like my sleep more than I enjoy looking halfway decent.

But can this be cured? Why couldn't I be that stylish-looking, polished woman? Huh? I could do it! It would just mean sacrifice. I can make sacrifices. I guess it would be nice to not run around in total paranoia every morning. I could go to the gym, get my heart pumping, work up a sweat, then come home and actually cook breakfast for myself, instead of hoping and praying that one of my co-workers will bring in kolaches that day. And paying bills before work would definitely alleviate some stress. I could wash dishes and do laundry before work, too. Then, whenever I came home, the only thing I would really need to do would be to take Lucifer out to potty and......that's it. I could even take her on long walks at Memorial Park! She would love that! I would actually have time to train her to not choke herself on her leash! I hate only being able to walk her to the end of the street and back because I have other shit to do. This would be so great.

That's all I would be obligated to do in the evenings: Walk Lucy. Also, I could actually not rush to try to thaw something out for dinner, maybe go to the bookstore and do a little shopping, maybe meet up with friends for a drink. I absolutely hate having to spend my free evenings doing tasks that keep me from just relaxing and enjoying myself. I could find recipes during the day, then go to the grocery store after work, pick up the necessary ingredients, and actually cook a nice meal!!! OH MY GOSH, THE POSSIBILITIES!!!

This is starting to sound more and more attractive. And my body clock would actually work with it. Especially on weekdays, since I really enjoy hitting the hay at around 9:00pm, anyway. Oh my gosh. I could really do this! And on Sundays, I could actually not look like a hungover, bleary-eyed monster at church. Wouldn't that be a treat for all those sitting near me? The more I ponder this, the more I like the way it sounds. I could do this.

Will I hate every minute of it the first few days? Absolutely. But I really do think that it will be a good decision overall. It will definitely train me for the day (in the very, very distant future) when I have 87 (3) kids that pop open at 4am wanting something from me. I have been waking up pretty early the last few weeks, anyway (I have to be at work at 7:15am, so I've been waking up at 6:00). I don't think it would be that much of a stretch to start waking up at 4:30 or 5:00. I could have an hour at the gym, come home, shower and eat breakfast, take Lucy for a little walk, and still have some time left over.

So, maybe I can be one of those "put-together" women, after all. Maybe with 20% more effort, I wouldn't have to look like a greasy-haired slob. Maybe I could actually look 25, instead of 19. It sure would make me feel better. I wouldn't have to stand next to one of these stylish women and wish I would have put on clean jeans. I think, overall, it's about self-respect, and being happy with the way you present yourself. Hell, if I don't take myself seriously, who will? And to be sure, this doesn't have anything to do with self-confidence or needing approval from others; this is about approval from myself and being sure and proud enough of myself to dress and conduct my affairs in a way that shows I am a mature, respectable adult.


Which I am. :)

A scathing review of "Twilight"

*Just a disclaimer, this post is mainly going to be me reviewing the Twilight saga. There will be spoilers, so don't say I didn't warn you.

So, I've been reading a lot of books and watching a lot of shows lately that focus on vampires and the supernatural creatures involved with them. For some reason, I find this genre of literature and tv pretty fascinating and at the moment I'm reading one of the classics, "Interview with the Vampire" by Anne Rice. Of the vampire books that I've read, it has been the best written, most acutely emotional, most swiftly moving. Granted, I haven't read that many vampire books, (only 3 series, which, I guess totals up to about 13), but I now see where Stephanie Meyer (whose writing I detest, but must admit that her stories are fun) obtained her premise for the "Twilight" series. From here on out, this post will be a scathing review of a series I once found entertaining, but now just really piss me off.

To begin, Meyer's "Twilight" saga is definitely one that is entertaining, I won't deny her that. Also, her character development is incredible. You truly do learn the perfect amount at the perfect time about each character. Specifically, her development of Bella is both smart and intruiging. As you read, it is easy to understand Bella's reasoning simply because she's been described and explained so well. Edward, too, is illustrated so as to give just the right amount of information when needed. Meyer knows when to tell and when to hide. This aspect of her writing is impressive and enjoyable.

However. Aside from her impeccable character development, her lackluster writing skills combined with the fact that 3/4 of her material is completely ripped off has definitely turned me off. I was willing at first to give the books their due: they are a fast-paced, surreal, puppy-love filled journey of two teens in love, with all the odds against them. It's cute, it's suspensful at times, but overall, it fails to provide strong literary grit and substance. Starting with the first book, "Twilight," Meyer relentlessly beats readers to death with Edward Cullen's (vampiric) beauty. There must be at least 25 instances where Bella (protagonist/stupid, impressionable girl) is enamored with Edward's face, forgeting to breathe because she is so enthralled. Gag me.



It's one thing to inform readers that the person with whom your protagonist is enraptured is the most good-looking teenager on the planet, quite another to remind them of this every 3 pages. It gets old quick. Is it not common knowledge already that vampires are handsome, beautiful creatures who don't age? We get it, Stephanie, stop writing as if we didn't get it the first 97 times. That is not my only complaint about the first book in the series, but I digress. In my opinion, Twilight is in the top 2 of the series. Coming in at a very low 4th is New Moon.

Wow. What to say about New Moon. New Moon is the second book in the series. The first time I read through the series, it was my least favorite book. I just finished reading it again, in anticipation of the movie coming out tomorrow, simply to refresh my memory. Well, my memory was right. This book is terrible. Not only is it terribly written (as usual for Stephenie Meyer), but the main character, Bella Swan, is simply pathetic. If she were my daughter, I would've slapped some sense into her and told her to get her act together.



photo courtesy of: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMnaGRcJWdullT4kX2XdOadPFCbHsgz5dd1t7zeXKVoMrWdgVuVUj_iC6Vc7T9HNt0VGAGQDeknggsRgZkf8sm9-yi7CG5ryaDaW-qnIvR6nszoigQUIWk3SulmY4TfckCAsa1A-N2mA/s1600-h/1054326558_ultsdamsel.jpg

Listen, Missy: quit crying. You aren't 5, and it's just a boy.

If you haven't read the book (be grateful), I'll give you a brief synopsis: Edward, Bella's 17 year old vampire boyfriend, leaves Bella because he feels that his presence causes her danger, which, huh, it does, because....HE'S A VAMPIRE!!! Consequently, Bella slips into an overly dramatic depression, during which, she mopes around completely devoid of personality and liveliness. She wakes up screaming every night after her nightmare about wandering alone in the woods without Edward. Wakes up screaming. Everynight. Anyway, book moves along, she finds a new friend, discovers Edward is going to off himself and flies to Italy to "save" him from said offing. During their flight back home, she literally never stops staring at his "perfect face," tracing it with her fingers, memorizing it with her hands, for, she thinks, to waste one moment asleep, not looking at his face, would be utterly intolerable.

So basically, it all boils down to a depressed, mopey teenage girl sobbing and alienating everyone in her life for 6 months until Edward finally comes back to her, at which point, she totally cuts off the one friend who was there for her during her darkest hours. A GREAT message to send to teenage girls, no?! Ugh. Disgusting. Like I said, if my daughter were going through something like this, at first, I would be understanding and help her through it. But after the first 2 weeks or so, if she were still being an embarassing excuse for a female, I would have a little chit-chat with her, tell her to stand up, take a deep breath, and move the hell on. Life is NOT all about boys. Life is about friendship, laughter, family, etc. Bella kills me. Wake up from your damn zombie trance, go out on a date, and GET OVER IT!!!

Le sigh. I know I just went off on a tangent there. I'll hop off my soapbox now. The third book is "Eclipse." It's pretty good. Still stupid and poorly written, but at least there's suspense and a slightly more bearable plotline. But, since I feel much more like complaining today, I'm going to move on to book 4. :)

"Breaking Dawn" (the 4th book, in case some of you didn't make that leap with me) began with the true makings of a good story (albeit on an incredibly weak foundation): Bella becomes pregnant with Edward's child (despite Meyer's previous rule that vampires CANNOT reproduce), a child that threatens Bella's health, and eventually, life. The suspense remains almost palpable as Bella nears her due date, and she is willing to die for the life of her child. This is true literary grit: the author's ability to kill off a beloved main character, to make the ultimate sacrifice. Unfortunately, Meyer doesn't have the balls. Bella, on the brink of death while giving birth, has the child, and then is saved by Edward acting swiftly and turning her into a vampire after the baby has been born. Ok. Great, Edward saves the day. The baby (Renesmee. Yeah, that's what she names her daughter. Is there a worse name?) is healthy and beautiful, a vampire-human hybrid that has superhuman strength, drinks blood, but also has a heartbeat and her own blood coursing through her veins. Bella is transformed into a strong, beautiful vampire (noting of course how thankful she is to finally be beautiful, and therefore, worthy of Edward's love. Yet another great message for impressionable teenage girls). Everything seems to be perfect in the land of the undead, but danger lurks around the corner as the Vulturi (the Royal vampire family that enforces strict vampire law) catch wind of the creation of an "immortal child."

Long story short (kind of): An "immortal child" is a child who was made a vampire as a baby. So, a vicious, bloodsucking child. Obvious why that would be against the rules. The Vultori are under the (incorrect) impression that Renesmee (Bella and Edward's daughter) is an immortal child, so they come to do justice to the Cullen family, (which includes Edward, Bella, Renesmee, Carlisle, Esme, Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie, all vampires), justice in the realm of their complete and total demise. The Cullens gear up to fight, to save themselves and Renesmee, and show the Vultori that she is not, in fact, an immortal child. See, to me, this seems simple. Of course the Cullens will have time to say, "Hey! Wait! She's not immortal, see?! She has a heartbeat!" But apparently, they won't, which is nonsense. Blah, blah, blah, they gather other vampires to help their cause, hoping that they'll be able to slow the Vultori down. The Vultori show up and the showdown ensues. When one thinks of a vampire showdown, one must think of death and destruction and insane awesome fighting and danger. Danger that will surely end in death, torment, and agony. No. None of the above. In the last chapters of the book, one of them ironically dubbed "Bloodlust," the big showdown between the Cullens and the Vulturi comes to a head. Surely, there will be a battle, a bloody (since one of the chapters is named "bloodlust" right?), skull-crushing, limb-ripping, head-rolling fight to the very end, right???!!! Right?! Mmmm.....no. The two groups talk. They talk and leer and growl at one another until the Vulturi eventually turn around and go back to Italy. Everyone lives happily ever after. Edward, Bella, and the rest of the Cullens have to sacrifice absolutely nothing to get what they want: an eternity of long, happy, beautiful, rich life. Doesn't happen in real life, shouldn't happen in literature. Does not cut it. A great book requires true, honest, painful sacrifice, and unfortunately, Stephenie Meyer does not deliver that. Good literature moves you, shakes you to your core, makes you cry and hate the author for what they've done. Real, true, honest literature mimcs life: there are problems, people die, and things don't always (if ever) go your way. Nothing goes wrong in the Twilight saga. Everything works out perfectly. Nice 'n neat. Not even the bad guys die! They just go back home to another continent. I'm sorry, but the bad guys in our own lives don't just fly back to Italy, never bothering us again. Stephenie Meyer has no grit, no balls, and no raw honest talent. So there.

I don't sound bitter, do I? :) Having said all that, let me admit that I really do enjoy these books. I enjoy discussing them and re-reading them. Perhaps it's the mark of a good book that it's created this much passion in me. I could talk about it for hours, really. So, hey, I may have my problems with it, but at the end of the day, it gets me thinking, and for that I can't complain. :)