Twi-not to be mad at me...

...for the unfortunate play on words in that title, as well as for the confession I'm about to make.

I jumped on the Twilight Saga bandwagon about a year ago.

I know!!  I'm sorry!  Please don't revoke my library card!  Hear me out, though; I had an excellent reason.  A reason that has since evolved into a mission.  And, really, what's more fun than a blogger with a personal agenda?

J's sister is 13.  That's 8th grade, for those of you without younger cousins, nieces, nephews, neighbors or kids of your own.  She's the youngest in their family, and has three older brothers... so naturally, she and I talk girl stuff all.the.time.  We have similar taste in colors (mainly reds, pinks and purples), in music (though my interest in Joe Jonas trends slightly less PG than hers) and in responsibility (school/work = BOO; weekends/breaks = YAY). 

It was bound to happen, then:  a Sunday afternoon curled up on the couch with snacks to watch the Twilight movie.

Let me go on record right now as saying that I can get behind the story one hundred percent.  The story is interesting enough; vampires, werewolves, blah blah blah.  The story is not where I take offense.

HOWEVER.  What about this "saga" does offend me?

Hm.  Would you like it in alphabetical order?

First, let's talk about Stephenie Meyer's writing.  Or, rather, her "writing," since she has yet to master the art of "showing, not telling."  I accept that these are intended for the tween set, and so the vocabulary and exposition are more limited than in works intended for older audiences, or in the literary classics.  Let's just get the obvious comparison out of the way right now:  JK Rowling didn't seem to have a problem creating elaborate imagery with her words (and there were seven books in her series, Steph).  Yes, Rowling created quite a bit of her own language, but... it worked.

Meyer's drivel reads like she spent $125 on a creative writing weekend seminar at the airport Marriott.  I bet she has a "Hang in There, Baby" kitten poster over her desk and gives it a thumbs-up every time she finishes a chapter.

And Stephen King agrees with me.   Rachel 1, Stephenie Meyer 0.

Having gritted my teeth through the thousand-plus pages of the first two novels, I felt like I had committed to the series, so I started in on Eclipse, the third installment.

And I can't finish it.  I tried -- DEAR GOD, I tried -- but I cannot do it.  It ends here.

I've mentioned more than once that I am the product of an all-girls high school education, and the experience was so powerful and influential that when I was offered the chance to recruit for my alma mater, I pounced on it.  (Being the director of a department at the ripe old age of 24 is not a bad gig.)

Let me be clear:  I don't hate guys.  Quite the opposite, really.  I respect and admire many men, and by now everyone knows the extent of my feelings for J.  It is absolutely possible to be an independent, confident woman and still enjoy the company and friendship of men.

Imagine my... distaste, then, for a female protagonist in constant deference to every male influence she encounters.

There is nothing wrong with a daughter helping out around the house.  Bella, however, cooks and cleans for her dad as if he is an inept fool in all matters domestic.  Charlie Swan managed to feed and clothe himself just fine without his daughter's help for more than a decade, and yet from the moment she moves in, she assumes all the "womanly" chores in the household.

Bella's best friend, Jacob Black, is moody -- even by teenage standards.  Granted, dude's going through some pretty serious stuff (come on, we all saw Teen Wolf), but he puts Bella through an emotional wringer with behavior so passive-aggressive it would make politicians cringe. 

Worst of all is her relationship with Edward Cullen.  Meyer has shaped Bella into the quintessential damsel in distress:  she clings to Edward for instruction, approval, guidance, protection... and it makes me gag.

Example:  New Moon begins with a "breakup" of sorts.  Believing that Bella is in danger around him and that the only way to protect her is to leave, Edward disappears from her life, saying it's for her own good.  She takes the news pretty hard, which makes sense (she's 17, after all; it's called a "crush" for a reason).  She finds, though, that she can conjure him in her head by making rash, dangerous decisions (motorbike racing, cliff diving), and sets on a path of self-destruction fueled by teenage lust.  (Or "lust," rather, since Meyer's Mormon beliefs dictate supreme chastity.)

Bella lets Edward dictate her comings and goings (thanks for the curfew, Dad), her friends, her studies, her interests. 

And thanks to the series' ridiculous popularity, a generation of girls is going into their adolescence and adulthood thinking that this is an acceptable example of a healthy relationship.

It infuriates me.

Meyer has defended this construct as simply the portrayal of Bella's choices.  I don't buy it.  Bella!  Sweetie!  Take a women's studies class, for crap's sake!

So when Eclipse premiered in theaters a week before my birthday this summer, J's sister was all up in my Facebook, excitedly inviting me to see it with her.   I accepted, naturally.  I mean, duh, she's fun!  But more than that, I saw it for what it was:  a tremendous opportunity to have an influence, to be a positive female role model like the ones I had (still have -- thanks Mom!).

Thank God for movie theaters.  When I couldn't keep my eye-rolling contained, at least it was under cover of darkness where J's sister wouldn't see me.  I got my fill of Taylor Lautner (I mean, I'm not made of stone here, people), she got her Cullen family fix...

...and we left the theater with tons to talk about.

Hm.

Fine.

Rachel 1, Stephenie Meyer 1.*


*...but I'll be damned if I'm going to buy the fourth book.  Suck it, Meyer! 

Getting invited to the cool kids' table ROCKS.

Yep; we did one of these not long ago (okay, like two weeks), but they're kind of fun, they help me get back into the bloggin' mood, and they're good for filler posts.  The lovely Christina over at South to Southwest tagged me in her list, and it's just bad manners not to respond when you're asked a question... so here goes!

1. What's on your Christmas wish-list?

From a sensible standpoint, gifts of a monetary nature are always welcome.  The plan is to start back to school in January, so a little boost to the checking account couldn't hurt!  But since this is Christmas we're talkin' about, and the idea is to wish for things we wouldn't ordinarily get for ourselves... I'd like sessions with a personal trainer, some fancy expensive shoes, and jewelry.  Who says no to that!?

2. Do you have any tattoos?

I do!  Two, in fact.  The first is a starfish on my hip.  My sister and I planned forever to get it right... we knew we wanted matching ones for our first foray into getting inked!  They are mirror images; mine is on my left hip, hers is on the right.  We picked a starfish because we knew we wanted something aquatic and something with a good story behind it.  Anthropologist & philosopher Loren Eiseley published a 16-page essay titled The Star Thrower in 1969, which has been adapted by motivational speakers into a "call to action" fable.  It goes something like this:  

An old man is walking the beach one morning and sees a young boy off in the distance, dancing along the water's edge.  As he draws nearer, he sees that the boy is not dancing, but instead is repeatedly bending over, picking things up one at a time, and then throwing them into the ocean.  Confused, the man asks the boy what he's doing.
"Throwing starfish into the ocean," the boy says.  "The tide's going out and if these starfish are stranded on the beach, they'll die."
"But there are hundreds of them!" the man protests.  "And the tide is going out so quickly!  How can you possibly make a difference?"
The boy thinks quietly for a moment, then bends, picks up another starfish, and flings it into the water.  
"I made a difference to that one."

It's my permanent reminder of the power of one. 

The other tattoo is a seahorse, along my rib cage on my right side.  Pirates and sailors believed seahorses were symbols of protection; they are also symbolic of grace and persistence under pressure or change.  I got it Labor Day Weekend of 2008, in keeping with my aquatic theme.  As it turned out, though, 2008 was a pretty rocky year:  I turned 30, lost a beloved grandparent, and called off my wedding all in the time between Father's Day and Thanksgiving.  I like to think there was some divine intervention at work when I decided on the seahorse; I didn't know it at the time, but I was going to need that protection, grace and persistence like never before.  

3. What's your favorite book? 
This may be one of the hardest questions for me to answer.  My response is different almost every time, depending on how I'm feeling that day.  I read just about everything, so it's hard to select just one favorite across genres, but these two always leap to the forefront.

Such a Pretty Fat, by Jen Lancaster.  A memoir that delves into chick-lit territory, this is actually her third book.  I'd recommend her entire oeuvre (and for God's sake, go read her blog), but this is the one that I found first and can relate to most, so it's at the top of my list.  

A Separate Peace, by John Knowles.  It's on almost every high school required reading list for a reason:  it's a damn good story.

4. What's your worst habit? 

Oh man; I could write a book.  Actually, that's it.  I could write a book; that is, if I could break myself of the tendency to procrastinate. The lag in my posts here is all the proof you need!

5. If you could live anywhere, where would you move to?

Right now, I'm pretty happy as-is.  I moved to the 'bus last winter (...my goodness, almost a year already?) and I am not relishing the thought of another move any time soon.  I love central Ohio; it's got everything I could want or need.  We have four seasons:  Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter, and Road Construction.  We have big city excitement and a small-town sense of community.  We have world-class dining and shopping (seriously; the world HQ for the entire Limited Brands roster is 15 miles from my apartment).  

I love the Carolinas, though.  That's where my favorite vacations have been and where I want to take my own children someday... that's where my heart would move me.  

6.  Have you ever met any celebrities?

Run-ins with famous people??  Now you're speakin' my language, sister!!  I saw Neil Diamond in the Nashville airport once; I waited for an autograph (and got one) after a Chris Isaak show; most recently, I was onsite for the taping of an episode of Food Feuds with Iron Chef Michael Symon (look for me in the crowd on the SkyWay/Swenson's burger battle episode, set to air on Thanksgiving night!).

But the most awesome encounter with celebrity was in 1999:  I was home for the summer before the start of my senior year at Miami, and... you know what?  Words don't do it justice.  I'll dig up the picture and post it here; it's totally worth the wait.  

7. What is your guilty pleasure food?

YES.  Kidding!  (Sort of.)  I like to try new things whenever I can, but if it's comfort and familiarity I'm looking for, it's this:

Fritos plus Lawson's Chip Dip = best salty fattening snack EVER.

It has to be Lawson's.  Northeast Ohio kids will totally back me up on this.

8. What is your all time favorite picture of you?

I love this picture.  I am having a fabulous hair night, my smile is killer... oh, and the guy is pretty much the love of my life, so that one more for the "pro" column.

So there we have it.  Fun stuff!

Don't worry:  we'll get back to "real" posts ASAP.  I have a bunch of ideas already in the works....