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....

Cheater cheater, candy corn eater.*

Phew.  This return to blogging is going to take some adjustment.  I swear I have a ton of fun (read:  snarky) things to tell you!  I just picked a busy couple days to pick up where I left off.  

Luckily, the ever-funny Kelly over at Dare to be Domestic created a post not long ago playing the popular "get to know ya" questions game.  Ta-daaaa!  Daily entry saved!  Have at it.

1. What is your lucky number?

I'm goin' with 7.  Sure, lots of people claim 7 as their lucky number, but my birthday is July 7th... um, hello?  7/7, I win!

2. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Wow.  I wasn't aware that I'd be turning my blog into a job interview today.  Sneaky!

...ah, what the hell.  I can use the practice.  

*ahem*

Given the current state of the U.S. economy, I believe it's difficult, if not impossible, to look ahead more than 18 months.  I'd like to spend the next year and a half exploring the ways I can contribute to this company blog, using the time to grow my plans along with our its success. 

Psshhhh.  Hey suckers:  I was a public relations major for a reason, baby!  There's plenty more where that came from!  (Tuition dollars at work, darlings.  Also?  If you thought that was good, then you DEFINITELY need to read Bitter is the New Black by Jen Lancaster.)

3. What is your favorite song of all time?

Ooooh.  Of all time?  This one's tough.  I don't know that I have a favorite favorite!  Don't make me pick!  It's like Sophie's Choice up in here, except with music so it's for serious.  Can I go top three?

Wait.  Why am I asking?  It's my blog; I don't need permission!

"Falling for the First Time" by Barenaked Ladies.  BNL has been my favorite band for more than a decade, and this song just feels exactly like love!

"Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley.  Breaks my heart, and yet makes me so happy, both at the same time.  Just a beautiful, bittersweet ache of a song.

"Not Ready to Make Nice" by the Dixie Chicks.  Political overtones aside, Natalie Maines is one ballsy chick.  I want her on my side.

4. Do you love football? Who's your team?

I... don't love football.  And given that J had a football scholarship to college, and that we live in Columbus, Ohio, home of the currently-ranked #2 team... well, let's just say that it's a damn good thing I love fall as much as I do, because otherwise?  It'd be a long, long season.

5. What's your most cherished item?

I thought of a few that could fit the bill here, and they were all photos.  What does that tell us!?  The best one, though, is the picture of J and me that my friend A snapped on a whim.  You can see it here.  I love it because it's just so... us.  Neither of us is wearing the "camera-ready smile" or sucking in our stomachs or saying cheeeeeeeeeeeese; we're just happy and totally in the moment together.

6. If you had 24 hours to live, how would you spend them?

I'd want a fantastic meal; tremendous, earth-shattering, soul-shaking sex; and the chance to say goodbye to my most cherished people.  Not necessarily in that order. 

7. Were you named after anyone?

Nope.  Well, not anyone we know and/or are related to.  But I spell my name the same way as the biblical Rachel (total trump card if I ever get to meet Rachael Ray)!  And my middle name is Leigh... which I choose to trace back to Vivien Leigh... and God knows she and I both have the flair for the melodrama... so I'm going to count it. 

I feel fairly certain that, had Scarlett had a Sassy Gay Friend, the curtain-dress could have been avoided.

8. What is your can't live without beauty product?

Oh my God.  Easiest question ever.  I'm a sucker for a gimmick anyway, but this L'Oreal Go 360 face wash?  IS FREAKING GENIUS!!  Pop the little scrubby out, splash splash, scrub scrub, mmmm smells gooooood, stash it back in the handy little holding place, see ya in 16 hours scrubby!!

So there we are.  Stay tuned for tomorrow's entry, in which our heroine takes on a pop culture phenomenon and totally blows your mind!

*Today's evidence of being rad:  there is candy corn in the house once again (yay fall!); I told J he was eating it wrong... and then demonstrated how to make a grill out of the yellow ends.  Sadly, I ate the masterpiece before it could be captured on film. 

When last we met our heroine...

"Welcome back from obscurity, Rach!"

"Why, thank you, Rach."

"So... been a while, huh?  What's been going on in your fabulous life?"

"Oh, man.  Where to begin?..."

It was never my intention to abandon the blog.  I just... got busy, is all.  

*snort*  

Fine, yeah, in that way, but also in the general sense that life and family and work and all those other important things started demanding more of my time and attention, and my writing took kind of a backseat.  I've been dabbling here and there (like the fiction I write every month when I pay bills, HEY-OHHHH!!), but simply haven't had the time for a dedicated daily post.

To quote an obscure bit from an old Sinbad stand-up routine:  "some things got to CHANGE around here!!"

"I can't wait to meet him!  I hope he's wearing something made out of windbreaker!"

Charlie Kelly (Charlie Day), It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, 
"Dennis Reynolds: An Erotic Life"

There have been a ton of highlights in the last six months!  There's been a low point or two, to be fair, but on the whole it's been a terrific year and I'm looking forward to recapping it here for posterity.  I'll cover the important stuff in bits and pieces in future posts.  

FIrst things first, though:  I've decided to come back to the writing to help keep my sanity intact, to stay in practice... and to keep sharp the skills I'm going to need in my next big adventure!  A busy six months in the totally unglamorous world of higher education has led me to a pretty big self-discovery.  

Y'all, I finally know what I want to be when I grow up!  

I've decided to go back to school to get my teaching license for middle school language arts.

I love academic advising.  Telling people what to do?  Huh; let me think ab- OKAY YES I CAN DO THAT.  However, after three different roles at as many universities, I can safely say that a career at the university level is not for me.  I loved college, as many of us did, for the experience that it was:  learning, sure, but also the 1 a.m. mud-sliding on the quad, the genesis of many a TV-and-takeout tradition and the silly Sunday morning "reconstruction" conversations that helped us figure out just what we had done the night before... 


...and that's why I can't work in the field.  I loved my Miami days so much!  The very last thing I want is for those memories to become overshadowed by administrative red tape and interoffice politics. 

More to the point, though:  I love the English language.  Sure, I take some liberties with it here and there when it’s acceptable –- Facebook status updates are so much easier to type in all lowercase –- but I cannot abide the pandemic abuse of grammar, spelling, pronunciation and structure.

It murders my soul, people.  

And that brings me to today's guilty pleasure -- it is Wednesday, after all!

For a while now, I've been posting pictures of egregious, public mistakes in a Facebook photo album, complete with snarky commentary.  It's been a hit with my friends and even has led one of them to brand me as her Grammar Girl (a responsibility I do not take lightly).  I've resorted to carrying a red Sharpie in my purse:  woe to the person careless with his syntax!

I will cut you. 

The other thing I'm going to relish about teaching?  Sure, I get to tell people what to do for a living now, but just imagine the power I'll be able to wield once I've got a classroom full of little monsters!  

Yep.  Me and Lady Gaga:  we've got big plans for the future of America's youth.

The wearin' o' the green!

Top o' the marrrrnin' to ye, kids!

How lovely and convenient that St. Patrick's Day falls on a Wednesday... perfect timing for some guilty pleasures, eh?

Green Beer Day is right up there with my all-time favorite and most shameless indulgences!  I still have the t-shirts from my four years of participation... and I'm seriously considering the J.Brew one as an "alumni contribution" to one of Oxford's grandest traditions.  Mock our popped collars, our North Face jackets and our SUVs all you want; our nickname's famous and we're not mad about it.

The word shenanigans is another good one.  It's one of my favorite words and today is a perfect day to use it with abandon!  Surprisingly, the origin of the word is uncertain; it may be related to the Irish sionnach ("fox") but it's also been tied to German and even Spanish roots.  

Whatever.  The source doesn't much matter to me; what's really important is that when J and I use it, it means something fun and funny and possibly a tiny bit irresponsible is afoot!  

Plus it's in one of the funniest bits of movie dialogue ever:

"I swear to God I'm going to pistol whip the next guy who says shenanigans."
"Hey Farva - what's the name of that restaurant you like with all the goofy shit on the walls and the mozzarella sticks?"
"You mean Shenanigans?"
"Oooooooooooh...!!"

- Captain O'Hagan, Mac, Farva & Thorny (Brian Cox, Steve Lemme, Kevin Heffernan & Jay Chandrasekhar), Super Troopers

 

Today's greatest guilty pleasure, however, may well be this beloved cult classic:

 

 

Behold:  the elusive SHAMROCK SHAKE!  

 

What is it about this beverage/dessert/frosty nirvana that makes it so irresistible?  

 

Is it the hint o' mint flavor?  The awesome color?  The fact that it's only available for a few short weeks and only "at participating locations?"  All of the above?!  Hard to say... all I know is that I have about twelve hours left to get me some!

Happy St. Patty's to all of you! 

An open letter

Dear white collar workers of America (more specifically, of my office),

We're not here to make new BFFs.  It certainly helps that we all get along, of course:  after the Mean Girls-esque office I just left, I'm telling you God's honest truth when I say that I appreciate your humor and good nature more than the average bear.  

We don't all have to be sleepover friends who will braid each other's hair and stay up late prank-calling the boys we like. We do, however, need to respect each other's space, and that's what drives me to write this letter. 

I'm glad you feel you can come in to visit while you're on maternity leave.  Who doesn't love to see a brand new little munchkin (if only to renew her gratitude for her currently child-free lifestyle)?  You look fabulous, by the way, and who wouldn't?  Three months away from the office would do anyone a bit of good. 

A lot has changed in your absence; most notably, the renovations are complete and we've moved into our new space, affectionately known as the cube farm.  Bear in mind, please, that although our new walls stop about four feet short of the ceiling, our cubicles are still our offices.  And while you are on a break from your responsibilities here, the rest of us are not... plus, some of us are picking up your slack.  

When you gather with a group at my cube wall for a loud, lengthy conversation about the baby's sleeping habits and eating habits and how your husband tries God bless him ha ha ha, you are not magically made invisible by the metal and plywood between us.  You are less than three feet away from me; I can see you, and moreover, I can hear you, and so can the person on my phone who actually stopped midsentence to ask "...is that a baby crying?  Where are you?"

The bottom line is that while your little guy is certainly darling and yes, you are fortunate to have a healthy, happy child... not everyone is as fascinated by him as you are.  Congratulations again on the baby; now please go home and enjoy the rest of your leave. 

Sincerely,

Rach

An aside to any potentially offended readers:  yes, I know that maternity leave is not "vacation."  Being a mom is a bigger job than anything I'm doing here, and can be more thankless as well... but if your home is your office, you don't see me bringing files into the baby's nursery to return phone calls and hold open office hours...