KStew's Big 'Fuck It' Heard Round The World

It seems like this musing should start out with that famous fangirl word that starts with an ‘S’ and ends with lots of ‘eeeeeee’s.  Oh happy, happy day.

So way back yesterday (the day we should now label 4/17/11B.E.K., Before Epic Kiss) I posted a lil rambling rumination called ‘Will She? Won’t She’ where I said and I quote (cause your asses were too busy looking at Gucci suits to read my inner dialogue): “Part of me hopes now that BD filming is over you say ‘fuck it I’m going and I’m gonna rock it and all those bitches can be jealous.’”

Oh Stewie.  You so did not disappoint. And what I love is I know you could have given two shits about disappointing us.  But you didn’t disappoint him. You got all dolled up, but didn’t pose for a single picture.  Because you didn’t get decked out in that fuckhawt dress for us. You did it for him.  It was his big night and having you on his arm, as his biggest supporter, must’ve made it so much sweeter for him.

I love the way you love him. 

It’s part of what makes me admire you so very much.

You do it so quietly. In such a classy way.  You love ‘Rob’. And by that I mean the real person.  The one we don’t know.  We know Robert – the actor. The tiny slice of a person we get to see in 10 minute interviews and 4 page magazine spreads. You know him and for so long it’s been so clear to many of us that you love him. You’ve shown us in your own little ways.  The subtle jewelry. The shared clothes. The quiet rendezvous on movie sets or holidays. In my mind, all these things were your soundless confirmation of something you feel no need to cheapen by putting to words.

If you were like the other 99% of Hollywood starlets you would be trying to get papped with him every damn chance you could.  But you don’t need to be ‘Robert Pattinson’s girlfriend’. You are clearly happy just being Rob’s girl. 

And last night that’s exactly what you were.  You weren’t there to make a splash. You weren’t there as Hollywood’s It Girl.  You were just a girl in love with a boy. *sigh*.  I love that.

I knew you wouldn’t walk the carpet. One, it’s not your style. Two, it was their night to shine.  And although you seem befuddled by it – you have a way of outshining people. This was one time that sneaking in the back door was such an elegant way to make a grand entrance.

And that brings me to your big ‘fuck it’.

Dear lord. You had us at the hand holding on the way out the theatre door…. So the after-party ‘fuck it’ was like giving us a visit from Santa and the Easter bunny all in the same night.

I have seen so many pictures of you getting into a car in misery.  I actually always feel so guilty glimpsing pap pics of you in a car, because you are always so very clearly miserable. You curl yourself into a ball, you flip the bird, you pull your hair in front of your face and turn away from the windows so they only catch your back.  Your message is always loud and clear.  Fuck off assholes. You’re not making a dime off of me.

But not last night.

To most people it’s a tiny smooch. But, I think, you were making a big fat statement. Those flashbulbs were popping like strobe lights in a Vegas strip club. You knew we were watching. The nervous smile, the nose tug, the wide eyes and happy smile.  Maybe they would have gotten lucky and caught all that. But then there’s the turn.  You turned.  You turned TOWARD the window and let them all capture your smiling face.  And I am speechless over the volumes that speaks.

You decided to let us witness your happy. And I don’t know if it was one to many whiskeys or being drunk off the buzz of a beautiful night that allowed you to let it happen. But seeing you that carefree was…heartwarming.

 You didn’t disappoint last night and I sincerely hope we don’t disappoint you now with all our stupid girlish giggling. I respect you so much for protecting what is yours all this time. In my heart I think you fear the money shot not because of what it will do to you – but because you worry once you give them the shots of your happy – they will all be in search of any tiny moment they can spin as your sad. They will twist those shots into something they can fabricate and sell.  And many times those are the money shots that destroy people who walk in shoes like yours. So I will not fault you if you go back into your shell. Protect it. Take care of it. 

 I know you wish we’d all get a life and go away and let you live yours.  As totally, freakishly BIZZARE as it is (and trust me, we all know we need a 12-step program) I just wish you both knew how much happiness you both spread by just being happy with each other.

Life’s short. Say ‘fuck it’ more often.

Will She or Won't She. Stewie @ the WFE Premiere

So the question of the day is will she or won’t she? It’s a big coming out party for her boy. Will she come out for Team Jacob or will she stay back and take care of Bear?

All week I’ve been telling people I would lay down on the ground and throw a little hissy fit if my girl doesn’t show tonight to support her man. I don’t really care if she walks the red carpet. I can’t let myself ever imagine a world where Stewie voluntarily walks hand-in-hand with him under the glare of flashing cameras. I just don’t think that’s gonna happen. If I thought about it too much I'd have to breath into a paper bag.

I don’t need the shots of them suffering through a red carpet preen together tonight (although bejesus another shot of her gripping the back of his suit jacket at the BD premiere would be much appreciated). Of course, I’d love to see her rocking some obscenely hot mini and ridiculously high heels as much as the next fan. But honestly, I am one of those delusionally happy robsten supporters who would be sufficiently blissed out just knowing she snuck in a back door and sat next to him to hold his sweaty hand and bump his leg every now and then with her own nervous leg thumping.

Actually, the thought of them sitting in the dark leg thumping together makes me giddy. I don’t need to see it; I can imagine it just fine. Yep. Delusionally weird, I know. I need a 12 step program of some kind. My friends are all looking into it.

But, as I sit here glued to my twitter feed wondering how those brave ladies stood through all that rain last night, a thought has dawned on me.

We know the glitz and glamour isn’t her scene. We know it sounds as if she was working right through last night. Girlfriend is probably pretty goddamn tired. And really could we blame her if she wanted to stay home tonight and snuggle up with Bear, smoke a pack of cigarettes, cook herself some recipe from the Food Network and just sext her man all night while he leg thumps on his own in the dark?

Kristen is a ninja. She can outwit, outsmart and outlast us. I have to remind myself of this constantly. Did she really jet across the country with him this morning and plan to doll it up tonight? Or will she sneak herself across the pond and show up going through a back door in Berlin or London or Paris? Hell, she could probably back-door it at one of those shows and we’d never even know. She’d pop up in some European airport a day later and we’d all kick ourselves cause she’s managed to best our CIA-like snooping abilities yet again.

So I’ve decided to put my big girl panties on and not throw a fit no matter what happens tonight. Part of my endearment to this woman is she doesn’t feed off the flashbulbs like the rest of them. She knows what she has with him is worth protecting – even if she has to be labeled a bitch by all the haters for doing everything ninja-style.

So cheers to you Stewie. Part of me hopes now that BD filming is over you say ‘fuck it I’m going and I’m gonna rock it and all those bitches can be jealous’. But I’m gonna be understanding if you just say ‘fuck it’ and don’t show up at all.

I hope wherever you are tonight – stilettos on 54th street or sweats on the couch – you are happy knowing your boy is about to showcase to the world just what he can do when you let him shed the malicious contacts and pasty white makeup. I know you’re the captain of Team Rob and I don’t necessarily need to see you holding pom-poms to believe it.

Welcome to the Chris Weitz School of Twittering. Aka: why he might be the smartest person in Hollywood

Several weeks ago one of my twitter ‘besties’ asked me if I had heard the news that Chris Weitz had opened a twitter account. I think this announcement may have been met with me leaping off the couch and giggling like a 13 year old. Seriously. I think my husband thought I’d lost my mind.

Since the day I watched the New Moon documentary, complete with socks pulled up over pants while toting around a big stick, I have been a fangirl of this man. He is passionate about his work, yet he has an amazing, lighthearted sense of humor. Ok, I fess up, in my mind, he also kinda looked like he belonged as part of the Cullen family. And the speaking in all the languages… damn, what chick doesn’t think a man speaking Italian is hot?

That first night he was on, I had a rumble on twitter with a new follower of mine who started spewing shit about how all Chris wanted to do was promote his new movie. To which I said, ‘Yeah?? What’s your point?’

Why do you think people in Hollywood sign themselves up to join our looney bin? Do you think they actually want to tell us what they ate for lunch? Or where they’re heading to hang out with their friends? Ummm… No.

So that brings me to the point of this musing. Twitter can be a marketing executive’s wet dream OR a publicist’s nightmare. In my mind ‘Celebrities’ (I kinda hate that word, but what the hell else should I call them? ‘The Beautiful People’? No, that sucks even more) use twitter in one of three ways.

First, of course, is the category I’ll refer to as the ‘Idiots.’ These are the Charlie Sheen’s of the world who use twitter to spew their own nonsense or just basically make asses out of themselves. This category should also include ‘The B-listers’ who use the Tweetybird to name drop or to let paps know where they’ll be in hopes of getting enough shots of themselves on the internet that the ‘powers that be’ promote them up the food chain to ‘A-list’ status. These are the folks who keep their publicists and PR teams up all night.

Then there are the ‘Uber-Celebs’. These are the luminaries of tinsel town who ‘float above us’. They have twitter accounts they use to randomly send snipets of happiness out into the world. They try to touch their fans on a wide scale. Kinda imagine throwing handfuls of confetti into the air and hoping it lands on someone and makes them joyful they caught a lil piece. This is the category of relatively harmless tweets we get from the majority of the twi-cast. The Ashley Greene, Kellan Lutz and PFach tweeters of the world if you will.

This is a safe, happy way to use twitter – but honestly, it’s just not all that exciting. (I mean I was sorry Ashley’s dog got attacked, but really my world would have gone on turning if I didn’t know about it.) I will note it is very admirable that this category of folks frequently use twitter to steer people toward charitable causes they believe in…

So take or it leave it – the problem with the first two categories is they don’t really move me. I am not likely to change the way I feel about someone because they are insane and ‘WINNING’ (insert 2^nd mention of Charlie Sheen here…) or because they tweet that they are hard at work on the set in the forest. Don’t misunderstand me, it entertains me for 30 seconds, but then that feeling is gone.

And obviously that sentiment is shared by the Marketing Guy. I doubt either of the first two categories really make the Marketing Guy cream him pants.

So I bring you to the third option. I’ll call this ‘Smart Baby Kissers.’ To me, these are the Chris Weitzs of the world. THESE are the fucking GENIUSES who have brains and actually ‘get it’! If used properly, Twitter can be the ultimate tool in grass roots promotion.

When politicians campaign, they don’t just go on national television and talk to magazine reporters for 5 page exposes.

They go town to town. Sometimes they even go door to door.

They shake hands and smile face to face with voters and even kiss their babies. Why do they bother? Because being ‘in the trenches’ garners them a sense of loyalty in voters that isn’t won by staring at the masses from the 42” glass on their HD flat screens.

Twitter can be that handshake. A virtual kissing of the baby. It can be used to touch individual fans. And by touching one – the image of that handshake is captured and spun across Timelines around the world. That one simple grasping of hands is seen by other fans and marveled upon.

Twitter is one gigantic chain reaction. Or to continue with my ridiculous analogy – it’s like one big town hall meeting. You kiss a couple babies and smile at a couple of people and the sentiment passes around the room to everyone in the crowd. Shaking the hand of my neighbor is almost as good as shaking my hand. Twitter just adds to this scenario the layer of 13 year old squealing I mentioned earlier.

Chris Weitz has been smiling and shaking hands and ‘kissing babies’ in such a magnificently smart way that I want to stand up and declare him the smartest man in Hollywood.

Do I think that bitch-follower (who’s now been unfollowed, because I don’t ‘do’ twitter drama) was totally off the mark in thinking he’s hanging out with us to help promote his movie? No. (A Better Life – in theatres June 24th – you h00rs better go see it.) I think she’s probably right. Do I think the way he’s doing it is fucking awesome?? Yes. Does he have my fangirl loyalty for life now. Yes to that too.

So listen up Hollywood – it’s time to enroll in the Chris Weitz School of Twittering.

He’s not just giving us tiny soundbites of pre-fabbed nonsense. He’s being real. He’s being himself. His use of Q&A is nothing short of brilliant. It allows him to have contact with individual fans. (Who among us thinks they wouldn’t *jumpy clap* like an idiot seeing their Twitter ID and avi reteweeted by him?) It allow us to ask him the stuff we really want to know. (Vamp Bella running in the forest scene! I loved his answer!) And his ability to answer honestly, with great humor and sometimes humility, is amazing.

Within the confines of the 140 character jail, he shares small pieces of personal information that make him ‘real’: calling his son ‘Noodle’ (I call mine ‘Bug’), sharing insecurities (he really thinks we would love him if it weren’t for the people he hangs out with? Ummm. No. It might have helped me find him – but I still would have laughed at his jokes regardless), talking about his love for his wife (admit it, you’ve said Awwwww)… These are all things we never would have garnered from some two-dimensional interview on the glossy pages of a magazine.

The brilliance of Chris is that he gives us ‘just enough’ information without ever crossing ‘the line.’ He hasn’t shied away from answering things about the people he’s worked with – but he’s kept his answers ‘classy.’ He’s not out to make enemies or divulge information that should remain in confidence. (Nice try to the girl who directly asked him about Rob and Kristen. His answer was perfect. Again, humorous and tasteful.)

I’m not sure how long Chris will hang out with us. But what a fantastic ride this is we’re all enjoying right now. There has been no one else in this ‘franchise’ who has ever taken this kind of time with the fans. No one. And that is where my loyalty is won. If he is willing to spend his valuable time and energy answering our relentless (and often repeated) questions – I am willing to spend my valuable time and money on anything he endeavors. (Insert Marketing Guy creaming his pants here.)

Once you feel a connection to a person – albeit their fragmented internet version of self – you want them to succeed. I want Chris to succeed now more than ever. And here’s me holding my hands out to my ‘chain’ of followers and hoping that the good feeling is passed on.

Hold up your babies up while you can people. And go see A Better Life on June 24th.

Love you Chris. As a fan I thank you for sharing with us your talent and your time.

Face Time With Twitter Girls

Spending time with twitter h00rs is important. Really important.

For the last four days my mind has been waxing poetic about this very thought, but I’ve found all my flowery contemplations boil down to that one simple statement. I had the chance to reflect last weekend, while finally melding my twitter life and real life for 36 hours, and I have come to the conclusion that despite what our family and friends might think of us, building friendships with bat shit crazy twilight women over the internet is important. And getting to meet them face-to-face is nothing but ‘win’.

Way back in November, when I was a relative twitter-virgin and was still standing out on the virtual street corner in fishnets begging for people to join my list of 23 followers, I met a girl named twidazzled81 (she has since changed her name to firecracker03, apparently she lost her dazzle, got fired up instead and then subtracted 78 from herself). She and I hit it off by talking about a little known brit boy who was handy with a guitar and had a song that some people wanted badly to believe was written by another well-known brit boy. We both had bothered to listen to the rest of his music being pimped on MySpace and had found that amidst the rumors and innuendo, the boy could actually sing. Quite well.

So a few weeks into our virtual friendship, she asked if I would be willing to drive to Durham to see him play at her house when he tours the US in the spring. Of course I said ‘yes’ – because clearly ‘this is a pipe dream and is never gonna happen’. Brit boys do not fly across the pond with their guitars to play in the kitchens of random North Carolina girls.

Well. Apparently they do.

The weekend was a leap of faith for many. Including my husband who was sure I was either going to be engaged in some kind of brit-boy/twitter-girl orgy or was going to be hacked to pieces by serial killers who portray themselves as twilight fans on the internet in order to stalk their unsuspecting prey. I for one was nervous as hell going into it.

My persona as twopeas is vastly different than the one I live everyday as Nicole. Nicole is a fairly average suburban soccer mom with a tad bit of snarky humor and a love of high heels. Twopeas is pretty much a potty mouthed bitch who doesn’t mind discussing anything from the state of popculture to sex toys and would probably live her life in thigh high leather boots. She’s snarky too, but that’s about the only thing she and Nicole have in common. So what would happen when twopeas had to play Nicole or Nicole had to play twopeas? *insert gasp from Nicole and middle finger from twopeas*.

What I found this weekend, somewhere in between drinking too much Friday night and getting sick and having an epic text argument with my husband (who was still convinced it was an orgy) on Saturday, was being with all the twitter ladies was easy. WAY easier than I thought it would be.

And that brings me to the first reason spending face time with twitter h00rs is important – you get to be yourself. Not the ‘self’ that includes all the baggage and past history that your real life friends know about. You get to come out of your own skin and simply be who you are inside your own head without any predetermining factors.

I’ll give you two examples. When the beloved Petegirlsmom (aka Nekol) showed up in her Momma Mobile Friday night, I rushed to the front porch to greet her. ‘Bitch you better get in here and fix me a drink! You’re late! I’ve had to pour my own already!’ When Carrie and I were endeavoring to drive all of Durham while crisscrossing between every Hilton owned hotel in the Triangle, we came upon some douche in a jacked up red pickup. “Small penis??” is the first thing out of my mouth. These are things Nicole might think in her head, but if they came out of her mouth, her real life friends would scrunch up their foreheads and ask, ‘did you just say that??’ Being with h00rs gives you the freedom to let these things out. How is that not a ‘win’?

The second reason face time with h00rs is important is even more beautiful than the first. It opens up your world.

The scene in Carrie’s kitchen Friday night made me realize just how unlikely it would be for me to meet anyone there in real life. We all come from different places. Our careers range from working with abused women to running our own IT companies to manhandling small snot-nosed children all day long. We represented just about every culture there is. Our ages probably spanned close to one and a half decades.

In a real life world, we would meet and spend hours making small talk and trying to search in between the lines to find commonalities. We would look at each other from the outside and maybe never spend enough time to look all the way in. Even if we try hard not to – in the real world our minds are already consumed by first impressions long before the person we are speaking to opens their mouth. But our twitter experience forces the opposite. We get to know each other from the inside out. Where else in the world can you do that?? When do you get to know a person without any bias or preconceived notions?

In Carrie’s kitchen we giggled and hugged as introductions began to match twitter names to real life faces. We had too much to talk about. We needed 10 more hours to fit it all in. We stood there like idiots with our phones in our hands, wanting to include all the ‘sisters’ who couldn’t be there in person. Why? Because we’re a little nuts? Yes. Because somewhere along the way this whole bat shit crazy thing became a little virtual family? Yes to that too.

I kept standing back and trying to observe the scene from the eyes of the brit boys who were there. Clearly they thought we were all insane. Who wouldn’t? We were a group of grown women, all wearing stilettoes and slightly tarted up, who are devoutly in love with fictional characters, slightly obsessed with the people who portray them and linked to one another through databases of made-up fan-fiction and online social media.

If you had described a group like that to me two years ago, I would have said you must have gotten lost in a nerd horde at a Star Trek convention and hopefully you got out with your life. I’m pretty sure that’s probably what the boys felt standing in that kitchen. (Add to all that they are 3000 miles and across an ocean from the place they call home – I’m not sure how they didn’t run from the place in fear or in boredom.) But they stuck it out.

The ‘boy called Kevin’ was gentlemanly enough to introduce me to Southern Comfort (crap, is that what made me sick the whole next day? And why does his mum call him Keef on Facebook?). ‘Rob with no last name’ (we do know his last name, it’s just funny to call him this), was such a sweetheart everyone there wanted to talk to him. (But did anyone else notice he seemed to like talking to a certain New Yorker?) I’m not sure if poor Lee had a chance to meet up to the expectations that months and months of twitter giggling about his meat and his requests for redneck liquor had unknowingly heaped upon him. It was kind of a heart break to me to learn that he actually dislikes twitter (I know, *gasp*.) But in hindsight, after what I’m sure was a long and stressful first week of touring and finding his way in a strange land, it was probably a welcome relief for him to find the flowery one among us. So good for him I guess. (Let’s just hope ‘the boyfriend’ didn’t mind!)

The weekend didn’t go exactly as I had planned. If I could call a mulligan there are a few things I would change. I would have stopped to eat an actual meal at some point during the day on Friday so consuming liquor for 6 hours didn’t make me want to keel over all day on Saturday! (Have I mentioned that Nicole has never EVER gotten sick after a night of drinking in her life??? Because Nicole knows to carb-up beforehand. Damn twopeas has a nervous stomach and can’t hold her liquor apparently.) I would not have missed the opportunity to be in the Adam & Eve store with Nekol – where picture taking opportunities with vibrating panty displays were so obviously missed! I would have gone to the concert at the pub on Saturday because I went all that way and never heard Lee sing my favorite song. I would have called my worried husband more so he wouldn’t start an epic text war with me effectively ending my weekend early.

But most importantly, I would have remembered to hug each one of the girls in that kitchen. And would have told them what a positive impact they’ve had on my life. I was scared going into this weekend, but hanging with h00rs is an experience I’ll never forget.

If I can help talk them all into coming to DC to watch BD with Nekol and me next fall – I will make sure of several things. I will bring some loaves of bread, some Zantac, some more mother fucking hot heels, and an armful of hugs for each one of them.

-twopeas1pod, aka Nicole

*Enough good things cannot be said about Carrie, aka twidazzled81, aka firecracker03. She opened her wallet and her home to give us this chance to meet. I’m so happy to call her a friend. *

*In case any of my twitter sisters, you know who you are, are reading this. I would flove to meet you in person. I think we would spend the first 6 hours squealing and hugging. Someday ladies…. Someday….#H00rTour lives on in my heart. *

*My favorite part of the entire weekend remains: “Now boys you gotta’ think ‘bout how they’d look up on your shoulders!!!” – Nekol. I love you momma!!*

Why I Love Twilight - My 'Jerry McGuire' Moment...

Should I let my crazy out?

Have you ever been caught out in the ‘real world’ (that place where you actually walk with both feet – not the one where you type out your inner monologue), trying to explain the way you feel about Twilight?

I don’t mean just how much you adore the books. Because lots of people out there are fans of good books. Being a fan of a book is normal right? That’s easy to explain: good plot, good character development, blah, blah, blah…

No, I mean have you ever found yourself actually thinking about telling a ‘real world’ friend how you adore talking Twilight to other ‘crazy bitches’ on Twitter all day. How you feel giggly and smiley every time you watch a fan-made Robsten video with some cheesy love song playing on Youtube? How you would literally defend Rob and Kristen against paparazzi if the chance presented itself – because somehow you feel protective of them? How you can no longer read your book club assignments because fan fiction is twice as entertaining (not to mention it helps your sex life waaaay more than Sarah’s Key – why read about the atrocities of the Holocaust when you could read about what really went down on Isle Esme?)

How this all got started.

Recently I found myself trying to explain to a longtime friend why I adore everything Twilight. This is not something I would do with just ‘anyone’ (not even the hubs). But this friend has been near and dear to my heart since we were in third grade and had to trace each other for an insane art project. She’s been with me through lots in life and seen my brand of crazy before. But you see this friend has been somewhere under a rock the last couple years. Call it the ‘Rock of New Motherhood’ (some of you will relate – that bitch is a heavy boulder the first couple years). After much poking and prodding by me – she was finally reading Twilight.

Much to my utter amazement – her rock had been firmly planted. She was one of the last Twilight virgins. She didn’t know the plot. She didn’t know how it ends. She hadn’t seen the movies. She barely knew Rob’s last name, (‘He’s that guy from Harry Potter right?).

And so here in 2010 – nearly half a decade after the fact – she was getting to experience that first, awesome wave of total obsession. Remember that I ‘must-stay-up-reading-till-3am-even-though-I go-to-work-at-6am’ feeling?

She texted me constantly. Up to 150 times in one night. I had to call and sign up for an unlimited text plan cause clearly, by the time she read Breaking Dawn, I was going to be the poor house at 20 cents a text.

I felt just plain joyful watching her become a part of the ‘phenomenon’ before my eyes. It felt like welcoming her into the fold. I was lifting the rock right off her head.

And so I found myself thinking: should I explain my crazy to her? But to explain it, I would first have to answer that question from my inner teenage girl. I am a 34-year-old, college educated, happily married, minivan driving, country-club-going mother of two…

Why do I love this stuff so much?

And alas, the answers started pouring out of me. And for some reason – I feel the need to pour them out here…

The Obvious Number One

First, of course, any list like this has to start with Stephenie’s work. Clearly, that’s why we’re all here in the first place.

I do not read science fiction. I do not read horror. So when people told me vampires? No way. So the fact that Stephenie Meyer could dream up this world and make me love it – means it’s a damn fine story. I will always remember the Oprah interview where one of her school girls in Africa told her it was ‘delicious reading’. That’s exactly what it is: Just delicious.

Truthfully – I don’t know if Stephenie will go down as the most amazing writer of all time, but her character development is so blissfully complete that it leaves you feeling like you’ve crawled up inside their heads by the end. Like you have the ability to do Edward f-ing mind tricks with these characters.

To me, that’s why the Twilight fan fiction cosmos works so well – we know these people. We can take them out of Forks and plop them in Harvard Yard or a hockey arena or the red room of pain (silently bowing down to those awesome fic writers) and still know how they would react and think in a totally different universe. If Stephenie’s characters didn’t ‘speak to us’ like they obviously do – then the fan fiction universe wouldn’t be as amazing as it is.

Coming From The Land of Spilled Milk

And Stephenie actually brings me to my #2 as well. I love her. I love that this whole thing was started by a stay-at-home-mom.

I’ve been in that burnt out, life revolves around naptime and laundry haze for the last 6 years and I love that she’s a part of that same cult. I love that she is this slightly frumpy, suburban- housewife and snot-wiping mom. I love that it all started from a dream. I love that she typed it on her laptop and hid it from her hubby (as if mine is ever gonna read this!)

I’m inspired by her. Inspired to be something more. (I don’t know what of course – when I figure it out I’ll let you know.) As a stay-at-home mom you get locked into feeling like the most important thing you do all day is kiss boo-boos and read your kids a book (and that is important – if you haven’t read to your kid today – put this shit down and go read Brown Bear, Brown Bear). But seeing Stephenie become this Goddess of the Best Seller List should teach us all that we shouldn’t be afraid to dream big dreams. Even if we’re doing it in ponytails and sweats that smell like spoiled milk.

Don’t get me wrong, being a mom is the most important thing I’ll ever do - even if I become the President of the freaking country. But this whole crazy thing has taught me that it doesn’t have to be the only part of me. I can be a mom and be other things too. Stephenie’s success should remind us all that we don’t have to get stuck wearing just ‘one hat’ in this life.

Calling All Hecklers!

And so that brings me to the movie side of this crazy love affair. (And oh, what a love affair this part is…) I have to preface my next reason with a little background. Stick with me. I’ll make a point …

I’m going to go ahead and admit something that might get me heckled. When I first saw Twilight in the theatre on opening night – I wasn’t so crazy about it. It just didn’t all ‘go’ with what I had in my head. At some, point months and months later, I started oddly enough, constantly choosing to watch the DVD while folding laundry. And long about the 5^th viewing I was in love. (“Really? This guy is hot!” “And this chick – she totally does nail Bella. How does she act so clumsy and shy, but fierce at the same time?”)

And then New Moon came out. And even though it’s my least favorite book in the series (please come back Edward, please come back now!), Chris Weitz rocked my world with the new color palette. His version of the Twilight universe looked more like what I had in my head. (“And damn, now I really think this chick is hot too?!” And “holy cow, I don’t like Jacob – but those are some mother f-ing abs!”)

I was hooked. I wanted to know more about these actors. I started catching some random interviews. And again, gonna get heckled, I’ll admit that at first I found watching Kristen and Rob painful! I’d see one of them floundering around and think: why is he so goofy? why is she so awkward? And then, I saw them together for the first time. And oh my f-ing god. I got it. They weren’t goofy or awkward – they were adorable. They were REAL.

Fierce Women Rock

So my third reason for being a Twilight crazy? For so many reasons - I love Kristen Stewart. I love that she’s real. As the mother of a little girl, I cringe at the ‘celebrities’ that are plastered in front of us. The hoochie-momma, Vegas-party-hopping without underwear, no talent or reason for being famous leaches that we are forced to hear about every day.

Kristen is like a bright shining star amidst that crappy night. She actually works for one. And she works hard. She cares about her job. She cares about getting it right. I honestly think that she is pretty much steering this ‘Twilight Saga’ ship. (As Rob called her – she’s the linchpin). I think she feels beholden to us to ‘get this thing right’. And I love her for that. I think Catherine Hardwicke (God love her cooky self) would have turned the original flick into a gooey, lovey, tween-dreamfest if Kristen hadn’t delved deeper into the characters and used her ‘power of persuasion’ to point out issues (and to chose Rob over some plastic Zac Efron look alike). At 17 years old, keeping things on course was pretty ballsy. Which of course I also love.

I adore that she says what she means and means what she says and never apologizes for it (well, except for the pap-rape comment – which I wish she hadn’t apologized for cause really Kristen – I might have been the only one – but I ‘got’ it…. I didn’t think it was offensive. I thought it was truthful. Fuck having to be ‘PC’ all the time.). There are so few celebrities and absolutely no politicians who speak their own truth anymore. They are all told what to say by some publicist puppet master behind the curtain. Can you imagine anyone ever telling Kristen what she had to say? Shit would go down. You don’t get canned answers from her ever. She feels what she’s saying. That’s why I think she stumbles sometimes. Because unlike the rest of Hollywood she’s actually thinking about what she’s saying.

I dig that she doesn’t feel the need to live her life through the pages of People magazine. Because people who live their life that way have it explode in their face. At 20 years old, she’s pretty f-ing brilliant to realize that. I love that she’s this fierce, powerful woman who’s gonna live life on her own terms no matter what people tell her or think of her.

I love that she’s utterly, jaw-droppingly beautiful one minute and a total wreck the next. She’s gorgeous - in that old-fashion, GOD-GIVEN way. How rare is that these days? How many celebrities do you see go out with hair unwashed in a ponytail and jeans and a flannel on? Now how many of you just went to the grocery store looking like that today? That’s why I love her. She’s one of us. She’s a normal woman. Lord, these days – just having your own breasts makes you a novelty in Hollywood. Kristen even has her own teeth! Totally novel.

As a normal, plain-old, ‘god-given’ woman myself – all that makes me adore her even more. As a mother it makes me want to stand up and squeeze her and say ‘thank you’! Because she might just be one of the only people I want my daughter seeing a picture of in a magazine. I want my daughter to grow up idolizing ‘real’ – not unattainable plastic. Bottom line is you can’t get more ‘real’ than Kristen Stewart. As a 34 year old woman, I’m not ashamed to say I look up to her. And I’m not afraid to have my 5 year old daughter look up to her someday too.

We should all be more fierce, less afraid to speak our minds, passionate about our work and able to embrace the beauty God gave us.

He Ain’t Just Pretty

Of course you don’t have to be a nuclear physicist to guess my #4. Of course we all love Rob cause he’s also utterly, jaw-droppingly beautiful and when he opens his mouth his has that fuck-hot British accent makes all American women swoon. But you know – God gave Zac Efron and Brad Pitt some decent love in the looks department and I can’t stand either of them. So if Rob was just ‘pretty’ – he wouldn’t appeal to me at all.

Of course many of the reasons I love Kristen, are also why I love Rob. He’s this funny, hard working, cares about getting it right and still loves his mummy boy.

He could be out there humping a different drama queen every night. He could be making a gazillion dollars on 15 minutes of fame in every cheesy romantic comedy that I’m sure are being thrown at him daily. But instead – he is clearly a one-woman man. You gotta love that!. And he searches for parts that mean something to him – that he feels. You gotta respect that.

He’s the absolute opposite of the cocky-egotistical asshole that makes up most of Hollywood’s leading men and all of Washington DC’s politicians (my hometown – trust me it’s full of assholes). He is so self-deprecating you want to throw your arms around him and give him a dose of self confidence. You can feel how uncertain he is about his work, his looks, you name it... And who among us can’t relate to that!

I also love that he’s still besties with all his old friends from home. I love how they have this little protective cocoon around each other. Because obviously, I’ve stuck close to my own besties from third grade too. He knows what ‘BFF’ really means. I love that.

Smash 3 & 4 Together And You Get… Eye Sex

And so that brings me to my #5. Which is actually what you get when you smash #3 and #4 together. I love ‘Rob and Kristen’.

F-ING GODDDDD… the way he looks at her… Every woman on the planet should have a man look at her like that at least once in life. The ‘eye-sex’, as we all call it, floors me.

I preface this with the fact that I am happily married to a man I fell in love with at age 15. I remember eye sex. I had lost it for a while, while I was under that same rock that fell on my friend. But watching Rob and Kristen watch each other - helped me get it back. (Seriously. I think my husband can thank his lucky starts that these two sexing each other up is getting him sexed up a whole lot more these days! )

They are giddy with each other. It made me remember how it feels to be giddy in love. It’s a feeling we let slip away when love turns into marriage and marriage turns into the inevitable day-to-day bullshit of life. But watching ‘Robsten’ unfold has reminded me that we don’t have to let that happen. And I’ve been working damn hard to get my giddy back.

I honestly don’t get how there are any people on this universe who don’t think they are together. They ooze it. To me they are a package deal. When you watch interviews of them together – there is just a completeness there that doesn’t exist when they are apart. To borrow a Reneeism… they are just like magnets. You can see the physical pull. It’s amazing to witness. And this is the part that makes me feel like a slightly crazy 34 year old fangirl – but they just make me smile. I don’t want to go up and hassle them. I don’t want to hunt down their latest ‘love nest’ and post it on twitter or buy a spoon one of them licked off Ebay – I just want to see them happy.

And so I’ve learned in this fandom that makes me a ‘shipper’. And I am such a shipper of their brand of giddy. We should all be so lucky to be that much in love.

Fangirl Version 2.0

And finally, (as if anyone is still reading this 2500 words in!), that brings me to #6. I love this fandom. I love that there is a fandom. How is it possible that - not only am I crazy in the head – but there are MILLIONS of other women out there from all walks of life who are equally bat-shit-nutty over all this stuff too??

I am so late to this party that I feel like the band-geek no one wanted to invite. But when Eclipse came out in June, all of the stuff I’ve yammered on about in the last 4 pages just came to a head. I went to see it 6 times. Twice I went by myself in the middle of the freaking day. It was the first time I’ve ever gone to a movie theatre by myself.

After seeing it the second time I came home and reread all 4 books in 5 days. And then I felt that same sadness when Edward finally gets into her head. I didn’t want it to be over all over again. And somehow – digging somewhere in that cyber galaxy that is Google – I found mention of a Robsten fan fiction. And so thanks to twilighted.net my fan fiction cherry was popped. And a new level of crazy was reached. I was sucked into the black hole.

I have an undergraduate degree in journalism. I know what a challenge it is to put pen to paper. I am utterly astonished by the craftiness that so many fans have with a pen (umm. ..keyboard…).

I have now read versions of Breaking Dawn that I think are better than the original. I have read alternate universe fics that make me wish Edward wasn’t even a vampire (cause he can be goooood at so many other things! *insert fangirl giggle*). I love that there are anonymously talented women and men (my shout out to SR who I think is an f-ing genius!) out there who pour their souls into this work for the rest of us to enjoy.

I love that I now know how to ‘tweet’ and can go at any time of day or night and seek out other crazies. I adore that this fandom brings us together. How else could you go from talking to some half-drunk college co-ed from Texas to a stay-at-home mom in Melbourne, Australia in one day? This craziness crosses continents and generations. (This summer, I sat at the pool watching a 13 year old lay out on an Edward beach towel while two 80 year old women next to me were talking about going to see Eclipse!)

At 13, I was a part of another fandom. I am not ashamed to say I was once a great lover of all things New Kids on the Block… and back then I loved that feeling of camaraderie we had sitting outside stadiums stalking and acting like goofy fangirls. I never thought I’d get to experience that again. Surely 34 is way too old and dried up to ever call yourself any kind of ‘girl’ again. But no. I am a fangirl again. And I love it.

And now you know all the reasons why.

- Twopeas1pod

Ps – Jerry McGuire had his ‘up-all-night’ type out a mission statement craziness . This has been mine. Thanks for sticking it out.