Two nights ago my husband arrived home from work and was greeted by a 9x7 foot tent set up in our living room.
He is still laughing.
See, I am not what one would call… ‘outdoorsy’. I don’t do bugs. I prefer to sleep on something made by Stearns and Foster, not Mother Nature. I require things like electrical outlets and sweet smelling shampoo and processed, conditioned, climate controlled air.
So the fact that I am going to hang out in a tent and a sleeping bag on a sidewalk in Los Angeles for 5 days comes as a bit of a surprise to those who have known me the last… oh, 30-some odd years.
I am not certain what to expect out of this experience. But there are hundreds of people who went last time and not only lived to tell about it, but seem to have had enough fun to want to relive it all over again. I’m hoping it’s not like child birth – where it’s just been 18 long months and they’ve forgotten how painful it was.
(Are the bugs in LA really big???)
(I digress.)
There are a couple reasons I wanted to go on this trip. And, despite what all the RL people on my Facebook have been sarcastically poking at me about all day (“You’re going off to ogle RPatz? Are you serious??”), getting up close and personal with The Pretty is actually pretty far down on the list. (EEK! I hope all the other tent city ladies don’t read this and come try to confiscate my wristband…I’ll sqeee when he comes by I promise.)
The real reason I’m doing this is just to prove I can.
I live a very blissful, sheltered life with a husband who was my high school sweetheart and parents who still reside 20 houses away. I went to college with people I’d known since elementary school and got married shortly after graduation. So you see, I’ve never been wild and crazy and taken a leap into wildly unchartered, unknown territory. That’s what this is right? I mean… there will be bugs? And packs of “literally on the verge of being clinically insane’ women. And I mean… it’s CALIFORNIA. Those of you who are lifelong east coasters will understand that just going to the wild west is like leaving the country…
I guess some women like me decide to go off and have a mid-life awakening (I refuse to call this a crisis) by going on safari in Africa or doing mission work in South America. Me? I’m gonna sit on a sidewalk in one of the largest cities in the country.
I’m a trail blazer I tell you.
I am not going to lie and say I am not nervous about this. From the chatter on the blogs and twitter for the past month there seem to be a million rules governing this shin-dig. From what I can tell very few of the rules are from Summit – lots seem to be created by what I am going to call the fangirlmafia. It seems in years past there was some stampeding. And line jumping? And perhaps a few people who touched The Pretty’s hair.
My biggest goal is to stay outta the Twifan Mafioso’s line of fire, I am far more afraid of them then I am of Summit. (Wait. Maybe they are undercover agents that Summit has sent out into the fandom to secretly control us all… You know Summit and their ‘vast-right-wing-PR-Loving-Plots’ (sarcastic grin at the delusional nonnies among us) – they might be smart enough to dream that kind of undercover shit up….
Yeah. Right., I don’t believe it either. But let’s see if the nonnies start running with that conspiracy theory. They all think Summit is staffed by geniuses.
Right after he stopped laughing at my tent, Mr Pea (who is a saint among men for taking off a week from work to watch my 7 year old twins – an adventure all it’s own) kept repeatedly saying, ‘You’re going to do all this… JUST to see someone for 5 minutes?’
And that very question being repeated over and over made me think of what I really WANT out of this. SO here it is.
I want to see the faces of some of the lovely ladies I have spent most of my nights with (and ok,… plenty of unproductive days too) for the last year. I want to hug them and squeeze them and see if I can get thoroughly confused trying to play the ultimate game of Memory as I try to match up real names with twitter ID’s.
I want to prove I’m not a wuss. I can fly 3000 miles across the county all by myself. Manage to navigate LAX with exactly 3 suitcases (I shit you not), 1 laptop bag and 1 purse that is crammed so full it won’t go on my shoulder.
I want to take the famous AiT finger puppets for a grand adventure and see how many compromising pictures I can take of knitward trying to get with yarnella. (I’m taking requests…)
I want to see the bubble first hand. I would forgo an autograph or a picture if it meant I could stand in person and watch those two eye fuck each other for 5 minutes. The pictures of the eyefucking at the Eclipse premiere is what drew me out of being just a regular fan into this crazy vortex of madness.
And oddly, while I want to see The Pretty up close to judge whether the fuckhawtness is real… more than anything I am looking forward to seeing Kristen in person. I can’t help it. I have a strange fascination with her as all my besties know. She is one of the first people I have ever actually admired. And I don’t mean in that Krisbian sorta way that my husband secretly likes to imagine… I mean in that ‘she’s taught me to be a stronger woman’ way.
So here I go world. Off to practice being that stronger woman. Off to conquer this thing. And, hopefully, live to tell about it.
I really hope the bugs aren’t big.
Won’t the mafia ladies have big guns that can overpower them?
Monday, December 5, 2011
My Ode To Tropic of Virgo and Normal Girls Like Me Everywhere
I am not a risk taker by nature. I don’t bungee jump. I don’t ride roller coasters. I don’t even step on cracks in sidewalks. For me reading is where I get the adrenaline of a great adventure.
Is there any better feeling than being so captivated by a story it sucks you right out of your own shoes and puts you in the soles of another? It like standing on the precipice of a world you can’t see, but can easily imagine. I love sitting, leisurely dangling my feet over the edge, enjoying the view.
I wax poetic about this because for the past five days I have been staring off into the lyrical abyss that is Tropic of Virgo. Awhile back the Twilighted muse @emmward mentioned in passing her love of this story. I had forgotten about it somewhere between reading the TaraSueMe trilogy and a fun fic about pennies and nickles*. But, a random note flitting across my Timeline caught my eye a dozen nights ago and somehow it called out to me again. Download me to your Nook…now!!
When I read I have a general rule: authors have 75 pages to win my loyalty. If I am not bound and determined to flip to page 76, I blow a goodbye kiss and ride off into the starry night.
This story had me on page 2.
By the third chapter, I had an overwhelming need to seek out the author. My fangirl gene is dominant, as you all well know, and I wanted to slobber on her a bit. It saddened me to find the account for @in.a.blue.bathrobe no longer exists.
I am late to this party – so I know nothing of this author and don’t know what made her jump over the edge and leave us. But I am grateful that at least she sat for a while amongst us. And so grateful that she left behind her work, etched out so those remaining could enjoy it long after she’d departed.
Every now and then you come across someone who can write words so powerfully they take ordinary, everyday actions and make them poetic , extraordinary experiences. Eating an apple, listening to music, pulling a ribbon from a girl’s hair. I have read thousands of pages in the last year, many of them full of lemons, some so strong they make me blush. But, I don’t think I’ve ever read anything more erotic than the way this author describes a boy simply watching a girl he loves sleep.
The beauty of reading exceptional writing is it elevates the way you view the common things around you. When you step back down off the precipice and are back in your own 3 dimensional universe (because say…your kids just pummeled each other or your husband wants dinner), you look at things differently. Today, I’ve found myself staring at clouds in a blue sky and the string beans my children planted from seeds and having deep, fruity thoughts that normally I would never take even 30 seconds to complete.
A great author’s gift extends beyond the mere entertainment value of the page, it makes the view of your own world more vibrant. Do author’s realize they have this power? Surely not or they’d all be ego maniacs?
I am constantly amazed by how much raw talent there is in this little community of ours. To the outside world we are just like Bella describes herself in this story. Ordinary girls. We are just someone’s daughter, sister, mother, wife, girlfriend. We are that girl with the plain brown hair pushing a grocery cart through a super market with double ply paper towels and fat free yogurt.
We live happy, yet unspectacular lives. We fangirl and marvel from afar over people who we think are extraordinary, but who earned that ranking probably in large part because they were in the right place at the right time or were born into the right family.
Not because they are truly that different from us.
Under the guise of our ordinary lives, there is spectacular talent amongst us. I’ve seen the edited tape, read the words, seen the art work, laughed at the jokes. It’s there. Underneath a pile of dirty laundry or the store bought dye that takes away our gray.
If someone drew back the red velvet curtain and shined a spotlight on it, or photographed it, photoshopped it and put it on the cover of a magazine, there are many amongst us who would transform from ordinary to spectacularly extraordinary overnight. @in.a.blue.bathrobe is one of them.
Her story made me think about the ‘ordinariness’ that surrounds us. Her Bella’s online user id is ‘Ordinary_Girl’, but like the author herself, the character has an amazing talent that had gone untapped. We watch her Bella transform from the shadows to center stage. All of this reminded me of one of my favorite lines in my bestie @eveningrainjlho’s fic Sexy Silk. Her Edward asks her Bella what kind of life she wants. ‘A life less ordinary’ she answers.
It seems to be a common yearning. I see this happening with my own daughter. Much to my husband’s chagrin, the fangirl gene it seems does not skip a generation. She flits about her room all day making up dance routines and singing off key to the soundtrack of High School Musical. If I’d let her she’d dye her magnificent blonde hair brown just so she could look like Selena. She dreams out loud of being a ‘super star.’
Maybe we are all ordinary girls who never grew out of our girlish dreams of those ‘less ordinary’ lives. Maybe that’s why we are all such fic h00rs. The adventure of reading takes us out of the kitchen and office cubicle and puts us anywhere we want to be.
All of these deep thoughts make me ponder how it feels to be Kristen, standing on the other side of the fence, living an extraordinary life. The gray strands playing peekaboo in my hair tell me the grass usually looks much greener from the other curb. My guess is she still feels like an ordinary girl when she looks in the mirror to brush her teeth. It’s probably not till she makes it down to her curb each day, and hears pap’s motor drives and our squealing, that she’s reminded she’s not. But, as we sit dangling our legs over the edge of the cliff and day dreaming about living spectacularly on her side of the street, I kinda bet she’s at home fantasizing of going to buy paper towels and yogurt without anyone watching.
I also think it would be fascinating to spend a day picking through Stephenie’s brain. Once upon a time she sat on her bed with her laptop typing out words on a programmed white page just like I’m writing this now. I wonder how it felt. Did the buzzer on the dryer interrupt her while she was writing the scene in Biology. How many times does she pinch herself when she opens her door each day and realizes how her tiny words touched off this massive avalanche. I wonder if the marvel of it has worn off for her and if so when did it happen? Or is it still like a shiny new penny? I walked into Toys R Us today and happened to see an Edward doll on the shelf. (No, I didn’t buy it.) How does it feel to her when she walks into any store, in any town, in any country and sees the characters her mind conjured up during her children’s nap time splashed across the shelf?
I hope it’s still surreal. It would make me sad if it’s not.
She was one of us. Somehow, her velvet curtain was lifted and she was invited to the other side of the street. I guess my point in all this is as I sit here on our patch of cement looking at all my twi-sisters beside me, I can’t help thinking there are so many of you who I think deserve to have our young fantasies of ‘super stardom’ come true.
I wish there was a street corner I could run to, to track down in.a.blue.bathrobe. Because I would take a camera and pap some pictures of her to splash across your screen.
I don’t know where you are lovely lady. I hope somewhere with an editor and a publishing deal. But your words move me. Your story beguiles me and I have 75 blissful pages left. (I love a story you want to read slowly because you never want it to end.) For some mentally-health-challenged reason, I felt the need to write this: You are not an ordinary girl – whether you’re wearing your bathrobe or not – you deserve to be sitting on the other side of the road…and there are so many other ladies in this ‘family’ who should be holding your hand and walking across with you…
With great admiration for all the authors and artists in this fandom,
- The Very Ordinary Twopeas1pod.
*The ’pennies and nickles’ reference is to the fic Fridays At Noon by @troublefollows1017. It will make you look at the change in your wallet and smile. Sexy Silk by @eveningrainjlho (jlho on ffnet) will make you want to say fuuuuuuck and buy tulips. She is brilliant. These two fics and Tropic of Virgo by the talented @in.a.blue.bathrobe can all be found on fanfiction.net. I hope you enjoy dangling your feet over the edge while reading all three of them…
***Author's Note: After originally posting this long-winded silliness, the lovely in.a.blue.bathrode. came out of self-imposed twitter exile and was lovely enough to send me a little tweet. Her twitter id is different than her author name. She mentioned that she was taking a break and living a bit of the hermit life right now, so I am not going to post her actual twitter name out of respect for her privacy. But I did get the chance to slobber on her a bit with a few fangirl replies. Slobbering made my day =) ***
Is there any better feeling than being so captivated by a story it sucks you right out of your own shoes and puts you in the soles of another? It like standing on the precipice of a world you can’t see, but can easily imagine. I love sitting, leisurely dangling my feet over the edge, enjoying the view.
I wax poetic about this because for the past five days I have been staring off into the lyrical abyss that is Tropic of Virgo. Awhile back the Twilighted muse @emmward mentioned in passing her love of this story. I had forgotten about it somewhere between reading the TaraSueMe trilogy and a fun fic about pennies and nickles*. But, a random note flitting across my Timeline caught my eye a dozen nights ago and somehow it called out to me again. Download me to your Nook…now!!
When I read I have a general rule: authors have 75 pages to win my loyalty. If I am not bound and determined to flip to page 76, I blow a goodbye kiss and ride off into the starry night.
This story had me on page 2.
By the third chapter, I had an overwhelming need to seek out the author. My fangirl gene is dominant, as you all well know, and I wanted to slobber on her a bit. It saddened me to find the account for @in.a.blue.bathrobe no longer exists.
I am late to this party – so I know nothing of this author and don’t know what made her jump over the edge and leave us. But I am grateful that at least she sat for a while amongst us. And so grateful that she left behind her work, etched out so those remaining could enjoy it long after she’d departed.
Every now and then you come across someone who can write words so powerfully they take ordinary, everyday actions and make them poetic , extraordinary experiences. Eating an apple, listening to music, pulling a ribbon from a girl’s hair. I have read thousands of pages in the last year, many of them full of lemons, some so strong they make me blush. But, I don’t think I’ve ever read anything more erotic than the way this author describes a boy simply watching a girl he loves sleep.
The beauty of reading exceptional writing is it elevates the way you view the common things around you. When you step back down off the precipice and are back in your own 3 dimensional universe (because say…your kids just pummeled each other or your husband wants dinner), you look at things differently. Today, I’ve found myself staring at clouds in a blue sky and the string beans my children planted from seeds and having deep, fruity thoughts that normally I would never take even 30 seconds to complete.
A great author’s gift extends beyond the mere entertainment value of the page, it makes the view of your own world more vibrant. Do author’s realize they have this power? Surely not or they’d all be ego maniacs?
I am constantly amazed by how much raw talent there is in this little community of ours. To the outside world we are just like Bella describes herself in this story. Ordinary girls. We are just someone’s daughter, sister, mother, wife, girlfriend. We are that girl with the plain brown hair pushing a grocery cart through a super market with double ply paper towels and fat free yogurt.
We live happy, yet unspectacular lives. We fangirl and marvel from afar over people who we think are extraordinary, but who earned that ranking probably in large part because they were in the right place at the right time or were born into the right family.
Not because they are truly that different from us.
Under the guise of our ordinary lives, there is spectacular talent amongst us. I’ve seen the edited tape, read the words, seen the art work, laughed at the jokes. It’s there. Underneath a pile of dirty laundry or the store bought dye that takes away our gray.
If someone drew back the red velvet curtain and shined a spotlight on it, or photographed it, photoshopped it and put it on the cover of a magazine, there are many amongst us who would transform from ordinary to spectacularly extraordinary overnight. @in.a.blue.bathrobe is one of them.
Her story made me think about the ‘ordinariness’ that surrounds us. Her Bella’s online user id is ‘Ordinary_Girl’, but like the author herself, the character has an amazing talent that had gone untapped. We watch her Bella transform from the shadows to center stage. All of this reminded me of one of my favorite lines in my bestie @eveningrainjlho’s fic Sexy Silk. Her Edward asks her Bella what kind of life she wants. ‘A life less ordinary’ she answers.
It seems to be a common yearning. I see this happening with my own daughter. Much to my husband’s chagrin, the fangirl gene it seems does not skip a generation. She flits about her room all day making up dance routines and singing off key to the soundtrack of High School Musical. If I’d let her she’d dye her magnificent blonde hair brown just so she could look like Selena. She dreams out loud of being a ‘super star.’
Maybe we are all ordinary girls who never grew out of our girlish dreams of those ‘less ordinary’ lives. Maybe that’s why we are all such fic h00rs. The adventure of reading takes us out of the kitchen and office cubicle and puts us anywhere we want to be.
All of these deep thoughts make me ponder how it feels to be Kristen, standing on the other side of the fence, living an extraordinary life. The gray strands playing peekaboo in my hair tell me the grass usually looks much greener from the other curb. My guess is she still feels like an ordinary girl when she looks in the mirror to brush her teeth. It’s probably not till she makes it down to her curb each day, and hears pap’s motor drives and our squealing, that she’s reminded she’s not. But, as we sit dangling our legs over the edge of the cliff and day dreaming about living spectacularly on her side of the street, I kinda bet she’s at home fantasizing of going to buy paper towels and yogurt without anyone watching.
I also think it would be fascinating to spend a day picking through Stephenie’s brain. Once upon a time she sat on her bed with her laptop typing out words on a programmed white page just like I’m writing this now. I wonder how it felt. Did the buzzer on the dryer interrupt her while she was writing the scene in Biology. How many times does she pinch herself when she opens her door each day and realizes how her tiny words touched off this massive avalanche. I wonder if the marvel of it has worn off for her and if so when did it happen? Or is it still like a shiny new penny? I walked into Toys R Us today and happened to see an Edward doll on the shelf. (No, I didn’t buy it.) How does it feel to her when she walks into any store, in any town, in any country and sees the characters her mind conjured up during her children’s nap time splashed across the shelf?
I hope it’s still surreal. It would make me sad if it’s not.
She was one of us. Somehow, her velvet curtain was lifted and she was invited to the other side of the street. I guess my point in all this is as I sit here on our patch of cement looking at all my twi-sisters beside me, I can’t help thinking there are so many of you who I think deserve to have our young fantasies of ‘super stardom’ come true.
I wish there was a street corner I could run to, to track down in.a.blue.bathrobe. Because I would take a camera and pap some pictures of her to splash across your screen.
I don’t know where you are lovely lady. I hope somewhere with an editor and a publishing deal. But your words move me. Your story beguiles me and I have 75 blissful pages left. (I love a story you want to read slowly because you never want it to end.) For some mentally-health-challenged reason, I felt the need to write this: You are not an ordinary girl – whether you’re wearing your bathrobe or not – you deserve to be sitting on the other side of the road…and there are so many other ladies in this ‘family’ who should be holding your hand and walking across with you…
With great admiration for all the authors and artists in this fandom,
- The Very Ordinary Twopeas1pod.
*The ’pennies and nickles’ reference is to the fic Fridays At Noon by @troublefollows1017. It will make you look at the change in your wallet and smile. Sexy Silk by @eveningrainjlho (jlho on ffnet) will make you want to say fuuuuuuck and buy tulips. She is brilliant. These two fics and Tropic of Virgo by the talented @in.a.blue.bathrobe can all be found on fanfiction.net. I hope you enjoy dangling your feet over the edge while reading all three of them…
***Author's Note: After originally posting this long-winded silliness, the lovely in.a.blue.bathrode. came out of self-imposed twitter exile and was lovely enough to send me a little tweet. Her twitter id is different than her author name. She mentioned that she was taking a break and living a bit of the hermit life right now, so I am not going to post her actual twitter name out of respect for her privacy. But I did get the chance to slobber on her a bit with a few fangirl replies. Slobbering made my day =) ***
My High Maintenance Love Letter To Bill Condon.
Dear Bill Condon,
You don’t know me. And actually, I don’t know you. In fact, I had to IMDB you today to see where you’ve been all my life.
I saw Chicago once. That’s about as close as we’ve ever come to bumping into one another. I didn’t see Dream Girls or Gods and Monsters. But, I haven’t been too far under a rock, I had at least heard of them both. I think I did watch that Academy Awards show you worked on in 2009.
So given the fact that we clearly have just met, I hope it doesn’t surprise you to know that I am seriously, undeniably in love with you right now.
I’ve spent the better part of the last two days completely ignoring my husband and two kids, the laundry -which I keep trying to tell to fold it’s damn self, my garden - which is willowing under this thing Jim Cantore is calling Heat Dome and my own appetite - which is pissed at me because I don’t wanna take time to eat. I’ve done all this because I simply can’t stop watching and reading interviews from Comic Con 2011. The amount of footage is a bit overwhelming. This morning, after I engaged in some domestic violence with my alarm clock, I managed to check my twitter @’s before even climbing out of bed. And there it was. No. Not the infamous 2nd clip you’re holding out from us…This interview:
http://blogs.indiewire.com/thompsononhol
And, although you mighta had me at that Thanksgiving still of Kristen’s handful of feathers, this interview has had me sqeeeing all day. (You don’t need to Wikipedia it. Sqeeeing is that sound you might typically hear when Rob walks into a room with 2 or more humans with only X chromosomes. If you’re still unsure, call Catherine. Like you said, she thinks like a teenage girl, she can demonstrate it for you.)
And, although you mighta had me at that Thanksgiving still of Kristen’s handful of feathers, this interview has had me sqeeeing all day. (You don’t need to Wikipedia it. Sqeeeing is that sound you might typically hear when Rob walks into a room with 2 or more humans with only X chromosomes. If you’re still unsure, call Catherine. Like you said, she thinks like a teenage girl, she can demonstrate it for you.)
The way you talk about this film… I can feel your connection to it. It’s evident you are one of those deep cerebral thinkers who has to delve into things. My god, no wonder Kristen and Rob obviously adore you. You’re a cerebral geek like them!
I’m a little shamelessly thrilled at your adapted screenwriting creds. To write a screenplay and really nail it you have to be a person who can take a book and whittle it down to what really matters. What tells the tale. You have to examine the characters and know them inside and out. You've got to be careful to hit all the big plot points while also being careful not to lose important small details. And while we fans know we are still saddled with Melissa (sorry chicka, you cut my ‘I expected the wrath of the grizzlies…’ scene out of Eclipse. You can’t be forgiven) dubbing over Stephenie’s fade to black, I am totally enamored with how you talk about the story. You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what makes these people tick and what the story is really all about.
Wow. Another thing we have in common. How have we not met before?
I am not afraid to admit hearing you use the word ‘potent’ to describe the honeymoon and birth does things to my girly bits. And when you say you wanted to ‘play’ with us fans... oh Billy Bill.
Bring it.
Has the Summit Exec who lurked our ring whining on twitter while you were shooting in Brazil also told you how much we like to play!? Perhaps you’ve heard the game we prefer is Twister?
The way you talk about Kristen… *sigh* I talk about her with the same reverence in my voice. And the fact that you see how intertwined she is with this character and how much she’s matured. ..wait. Didn’t I just stay up till 2am last night musing about that very thought? *Doing that double ‘point to my eyes and then yours’ thing.*
Winning over my love was not going to be an easy feat for you. You see I am a huge fan of the adorkable Chris Weitz. I might have even surmised once or twice during pre-production that I wish he’d come back to work on this film. But knowing what I know now, I am so glad you are running this joint.
I love the way you talk about giving in to our demands for the rings. (Oh, I see you Summit… we know you’re out there behind our twitter pages watching our every move and pulling our strings like we’re marionettes. Don’t’ you have someone to try to sue today? Ok, I admit, that chick deserved it.) So Bill, since we’re talking demands, have you heard mention of the fact that we want an unrated Director’s cut version of the DVD? Both you and Kristen and Rob keep mentioning how you shot everything ‘all the way’ and this is truly a horror film. Yeah…. We’re gonna need proof of that to believe you. So you just fork over all the film and we’ll be happy. See, while you seem very at ease about that meeting you have with the ratings board next week, it has us shaking in our Converse. We want it all. Rob said the whole house falls down. We wanna see that. We’re all kinda freaky chicks, so we want to see Rob rip that baby out with his teeth too. Trust me, we’ll all think it’s hawt in some way. (Oh, hawt means hot to us. You know, as in good looking?) So if Stephenie has already paid off the censors to cockblock our asses, we want to opportunity to see just how far you really went…
I’ll leave you alone now cause clearly you have more important things to be doing than reading this love note. I just needed to let you know how I feel. Look for me out in LA amongst the hordes of smelly women lining the red carpet at the premiere. I’ll be easy to spot. I’ll be the chick in a sea of Team Edward and Team Jacob shirts wearing the one that says ‘Team Bill Condon’.
With love,
Twopeas.
PS – I am pretty sure there are a few people I know who would trade sexual favors if you would talk Summit into releasing that 2nd clip from Comic Con. There’s many I know who might trade their first born. I know you think I’m kidding.
I’m not.
The World's Biggest Twilight Fan... All Grown Up
Where were you between the ages of 17 and 21?
Every now and then I find myself pondering my own life between those years . At 17, I was a punkass kid who didn’t know jackshit. At 21, I was a punkass adult, who still didn’t know jackshit, but could drink booze and was wise enough to look back at that 17-year-old-self and realize she was an idiot.
Those years are so transformative.
Those years are so transformative.
My *cough* 35-year-old-self looks back at them and realizes how much that journey truly shaped the course my entire life has taken. Those experiences between punkass-kid and punkass-adult make you who are and what you will become.
And, these days, it’s that notion that makes me ponder deep thoughts every time I watch Kristen.
Twilight has been her ‘college’. She’s moved from that teenage girl who giggled her way through those first Twilight Tuesdays to a woman who’s one of the top paid actresses in tinsel town. And, she’s done it all under the lens of a microscope so powerful I can’t even imagine it.
Her ‘performance’ today at her 3rd Comic Con was so startlingly different to the two that came before it, I can’t help wanting to stand up and clap for her like a mother sitting in the audience watching to her child march by to Pomp & Circumstance.
Please don’t get me wrong, through all her awkwardness of previous interviews, I have always thought Kristen had eloquent ideas and thoughts about these stories and her character. It’s just always taken a little patience and understanding to listen to her share those thoughts.
But today she seemed all grown up. Yes, the leg still bounced. Yes, her hair still calls out for her hands to run through it. She even poked fun at her own awkwardness. But, there was nothing awkward about her answers and to me the message she’s always sent was finally so clear, I hope every person in this fandom finally got it.
She is one of us.
Bill Condon confirmed what I’ve been thinking for so long. “There is no bigger fan of Twilight than Kristen. She's always there like, "I know what it felt like when I read this the first time."
For me, the most epic moment of the day was not the 20 fail-seconds of a black screen with quiet-sexing music playing during the painful livestream of Bill C’s second clip. (Although sweet baby jesus, I am sitting here still awake because if that clip doesn’t get hacked and posted on twitter soon I’m gonna lose my faith in the ninja skills of this fandom). What struck me the deepest, was Kristen answering @Taryder’s question during the first press conference.
Q: “Breaking Dawn was an emotional journey. What was it like filming for months, and how did everything that happens to Bella effect you personally?”
A: “This one really is loaded with cathartic, impactful huge life moments and they're not all fantasy. They're very rooted in a reality that I can completely see myself in. Anyone who reads the book can imagine them in it themselves. I can't let the book punch me in the face every morning. You have to let the moments happen. And they did. And we just went for it. A lot of it. I feel it was very, very close to the book…”
At the heart of Kristen Stewart is a Twilight fan.
Somewhere between wrapping up with her high school tutor and becoming legal to drink a beer, she managed to remain the ‘linchpin’ holding this all together. Sure, I don’t think she’d spend hours on end giggling about sparkly peens on twitter like the rest of us… but she gets it.
She’s always gotten it.
I’ve spent a lot of time pondering the journey that Bella took in Stefenie Meyer’s head. A lot of people outside our little world think Twilight is a fluffy love story with some blood suckers and overgrown puppies. But to me it’s always been about Bella. It’s about the journey a girl takes to becoming a woman. A strong woman who can face what life throws at her head on and is so powerful in her own skin she’s not afraid of what lies ahead. She’ll protect what’s hers at any cost.
So when she answered today it struck me. My god. How could Kristen not feel close to the book? For many of us, we love this shit because we see ourselves walking in Bella’s shoes. We see what we went through in those transformative years. And I think Kristen must too. Because, although she has only gotten hitched and popped out a baby on a set, in a lot of ways it’s still reflective of her own real life journey.
So when she answered today it struck me. My god. How could Kristen not feel close to the book? For many of us, we love this shit because we see ourselves walking in Bella’s shoes. We see what we went through in those transformative years. And I think Kristen must too. Because, although she has only gotten hitched and popped out a baby on a set, in a lot of ways it’s still reflective of her own real life journey.
She started this thing out a punkass 17 year old kid. She spent the whole first Comic Con looking like a deer caught in headlights. She stumbled over every other word and looked like she had to stare at Rob in order to cling to something that would keep her from melting into a puddle of nerves on the floor. Her second Comic Con she seemed more badass (thanks Joan Jett mullet), maybe a little more comfortable in her skin, but there was still that ‘melt into the floor’ quality. (She did of course still stare back at Rob. Lordy, the eyesexing at the New Moon CC is legendary in my mind.)
But today she seemed so incredibly at ease. She knew what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it. Obviously, there was still adorkableness. But if she completely lost that I would mourn it’s passing.
She showed her deep passion for this film. She showed her passion for doing this whole thing justice. And while I think she’s shown that time and time again, today it seemed like she finally felt comfortable expressing it.
Like she wanted to be there to celebrate it.
She seemed like a powerful woman to me. Ready to face the world instead of fearing it.
When filming ended, I pondered a lot about how it must’ve felt for her. Shooting that wedding scene must have felt like a graduation in so many ays. She’s literally grown up with Twilight. Like Bella, she is now this more powerful, confident being. She knows who she is and what she has and wants to protect.
I’m old enough to know that while she is wise beyond her years, she too will probably look back 14 years from now (shit, how am I that much older than her, 21 seems like yesterday) and think she was such a punkass. But punkass or not, our girl has transformed.
I kinda can’t wait to watch her spread her wings.
I’ve told a lot of people if there was one person I could sit down and have lunch with in this world it would be Kristen. I think it would be amazing to sit and ponder deep thoughts about these characters with her. And I doubt, other than Stephenie and maybe Melissa, there is another person on the planet who knows them so well. When Kristen speaks about her character, I think she sounds proud of the journey Bella takes. Today, in an interview, she called Bella a ‘keeper’.
Well, today I was so proud of the journey Kristen has taken while wearing Bella’s shoes. And in my mind Kristen is without a doubt a keeper.
-twopeas…
PS: And if she ever does wanna sit down and talk sparkle peen… I’m gonna still be here waiting… I’ll even pick up the lunch tab.
PPS: At 17, I was in love with a boy. At 21, I was still in love with that boy. At 23, I married him and at 28 we had some beautiful babies together. So is it wrong of me to hope that while our girl continues to grow up –maybe she’ll decide to hold onto her boy too. That would make me even prouder than I was of her today.
PPS: At 17, I was in love with a boy. At 21, I was still in love with that boy. At 23, I married him and at 28 we had some beautiful babies together. So is it wrong of me to hope that while our girl continues to grow up –maybe she’ll decide to hold onto her boy too. That would make me even prouder than I was of her today.
PPSS: Honey, throw your shield up around your man and your dog and don’t let the evil world inside...
Sunday Funday: Fangirl Heaven
It has taken me a week. A whole entire week to bring my heart rate down from the epicness that was June 4th.
Known to me now as Sunday-Fangirl-Heaven.
It might have taken that long to settle the pounding in my chest because I simply can’t stop watching replays. I vacillate between the beauty of the 1 minute 59 seconds of the teaser trailer and my Tivo’d two hours of the ridiculously hilarious 2011 Robert Pattinson Movie Awards. I mean… the 2011 MTV Movie Awards.
It seems almost too good to be true that the Fangirl Gods bestowed both to us on the same day….
Forget Edward and Jacob – there’s a whole new team in town…
TEAM BILL CONDON. *Running to CafePress to have tshirts made up. Who wants one?*
I’m going to admit, I’ve been worried. There are so many ways we could get let down. Lord knows screwing things up is one of Scummit’s specialties. It’s written once again by Melissa “I decided to COMBINE the leg hitch and ring scenes in Eclipse" Rosenberg. (Yes, I’m still bitter she cut out my favorite
line from the book. “I was all braced for the wrath that was going to put grizzlies to shame, and this is what I get?”) And of course, much as we have
all lamented, it’s saddled with a mother fucking PG-13 rating. How do you make vampsex PG-13? Even Rob has voiced his doubts.
line from the book. “I was all braced for the wrath that was going to put grizzlies to shame, and this is what I get?”) And of course, much as we have
all lamented, it’s saddled with a mother fucking PG-13 rating. How do you make vampsex PG-13? Even Rob has voiced his doubts.
There are just so many places where Breaking Dawn could go awry… But from the moment Bill Condon lit up my Thanksgiving Day with Kristen’s handful of feathers – I have remained hopeful.
Maybe he gets it??
Around 3pm last Sunday, as my twitter @s were spinning with ‘OMFG’s and ‘Ded’s’, I once again felt that hopeful spark.
Wow. Just wow. It’s 1:59 of restoring my faith.
I might have even shouted out: ‘They might just get this one right!’ a couple times. But, that was after I regained the ability to form a coherent sentence.
I’ve now watched the thing on loop 75 times. Well ok. I don’t even watch the whole thing anymore cause I could give a rats ass about watching Aro open the invite. And I feel no need to continually watch TayTay take off his shirt and become furry.
I skip right to :50. *sigh*. That’s where the epicness begins.
The wedding. My god. I think we all might be more nervous about this fucker than most of us old married ladies were about our own blessed day! I will tell you this. If I could go back and do my own nuptials over again, I’d take the florist a picture of the Breaking Dawn wedding set and say, ‘I want this. Go.’
It’s breathtaking. Then you add Rob in tails and Kristen with her doe-eyed-brown Bella lenses and you have ‘Sweet baby Jesus!’ status.
“No measure of time with you would be long enough, but we’ll start with forever.”
How am I’m going to sit through 2 hours of this without having heart palpitations. My checklist for opening night now includes a rolling suitcase with a canister of oxygen, a drool bucket and those heart paddle thingies they use on all the doctor shows.
And just when I’m already thinking my heart is gonna come out of my chest…. Big Bill C gives it to us. If there is a 13 year old next to you cover
her eyes – cause Billy unleashed the headboard!
her eyes – cause Billy unleashed the headboard!
In fact, it appears he’s gonna break the whole damn bed with Rob’s rippling back muscles and thrusting pelvis to guide the way. And this is just the fucking TEASER trailer?
Can you imagine what he’ll hit us with in the long form!
Oh shut up, I know you people have been imagining that all week long. Right after you starred at the gif of the back muscles on someone’s tumblr. And please don’t try to tell me you don’t think that’s really Rob. (Inserts my fingers in my ears, ‘Lalalalalalalalala’.)
And suddenly I’m adding a case of Depends to that theatre checklist because the wetness left behind on my seat might be embarrassing!
Bill C told us he wasn’t gonna sugar coat things. He said they were gonna take things ‘right to the edge’. I believe he even forewarned us the world might not be ready for it. And holy mother of God he was right.
From what he’s shown us thus far I am impressed. The scenery looks awe inspiring, the costumes and makeup look less ‘comical’ and more dramatic, the hot factor is there. By golly, it actually looks like the reports are true. Scummit might truly have forked over a little more of their lunch money to make this movie! Guess they did finally decide to let a director do the books justice instead of trying to be cheap and then squeeze as much as they could out of us.
Right after I went to surf Café Press for a ‘Team Bill Condon’ tshirt – I came back to this thought. Everyone was so worried that we would be ruined by all the leaks. Not. Even. Close. Seeing the scenes rolling before me in crystal clear high def gave me chills. Like prickly, tingles up the arms, goosebumps freaking out on the flesh… chills.
I am more excited for this movie now than ever before. And I believe Big Bill might have already etched himself onto my permanent list of fangirl-worthiness.
Of course the remainder of Sunday-Fangirl-Heaven was brought to us by another member of that list. I have previously mused about Kstew’s big ‘Fuck it’… last Sunday night was without a doubt Rob’s turn.
Stewie mentions on the Eclipse ‘Comentree’ that fans are getting a good ‘dose’ of Rpatz. Well I gotta say his grumbling about In & Out overdose was NOTHING compared to the potty-mouthed, adorkably unprepared Rob who showed up and completely stole the show.
There was lots of talk on twitter about possible alcohol consumption. Ok, I’ll fess up. I might’ve tweeted ‘Dean how many shots did you
let him do in the car?’ once or twice myself. Somewhere right around when Kristen was second-hand embarrassedly hiding her face and saying ‘oh no’…
let him do in the car?’ once or twice myself. Somewhere right around when Kristen was second-hand embarrassedly hiding her face and saying ‘oh no’…
But in all honesty, I don’t really think booze was the culprit. I think ‘AreUDrunkRob’ might be the real ‘class clown’ we don’t get to see in full effect too often. I think he might have actually just been saying, ‘I haven’t had a day off in like 9 months… I’m here with my girl. She looks hawt. Let’s get this fucker over with so I can get back to Chateau Marmont already… ‘ I mean let’s face it… the MMA’s aren’t exactly the Oscars. Was anyone gonna get offended if a few f-bombs dropped? Don’t f-bombs sound classy in British anyway?
My biggest chuckle came from the fact that his ‘fuck’ seemed to be the only one that slipped past the sensors sitting in the production trailer. Everyone else got bleeped. Rob. Not so much. My guess is the sensors were all women and were too mesmerized to respond quickly enough.
My first reaction to best kiss: Suck that Potter fans!
Lol. Sorry, no offense to those of you who straddle both fandoms. I just refused to allow them to beat us. The way that reporter dude kept taunting us at the show’s opening saying Potter & Bieber fans were trending way more than us – well that just pissed me off. You trend all you want fuckers – we’re gonna sweep this. That’s what I kept praying would happen.
Again. Fangirl Gods did not let us down.
My second reaction to the kiss: Holy shit! They actually came up with a plan!
And it worked!
And it worked!
I can’t decide which part I loved more. Her calling him ‘honey’ in front of the world or him grabbing her like a caveman to ‘take her backstage’.
Oh to be a fly on that wall…
I know the rest of the world used our ‘sweep’ to make light of the MMAs. They turn it into the More Twilight Awards.
Well you know what I have to say to that world…
You better go and youtube that teaser trailer… cause next year – we’re coming right back to do it all over again… and I’ll be watching in
my new Bill C tshirt.
my new Bill C tshirt.
....I'll Post A Pic Later. Yeah, Right.
Another day, another random person, with a nonexistent tweet count, saying they just saw something they probably didn’t see. Claiming to have pictures they definitely don’t have. And will never, ever produce.
Even when they ‘finally get home.’
Who are these fakers? And why can’t they come up with a better hobby? It’s like twitter is a one trick pony lately. Honestly, if you’re like me, you’re so far behind in catching up on all the WFE press that a few days without any Robsten news really won’t send you over the edge at this point.
And truly, can we be too upset about not getting a real 25th bday sighting? Did you see the ElleUK outtakes? Yeah. If you were Rob what would you have asked for, for your birthday? Exactly…. It wouldn’t have involved leaving the house. Just sayin’.
I don’t understand the motivation behind these people who feel the need to make stuff up? Do they just wake up one day and say, ‘I think I’ll pretend I just saw Rob and Kristen!’?
I’ve seen it surmised that they are trying to score more followers? Did I miss the memo that states you should stake your self-worth on how many followers you have on twitter? Have you ever actually clicked on the follower lists of those folks who have 1000+ ‘friends’. Those lists are chock full of religious freaks, pornstar spammers and people trying to convince you to visit their website.
Want more followers? Tweet oh my God! or Sweet Baby Jesus a lot. I always seem to end up with more followers after I amp up the use of those phrases. They attract the ‘Christian Coalition of XXX’ and ‘BigDebbieDoesXXX’ real fast.
Why do these people need more twitter followers anyway? They want more people to care what they just ate for lunch or what made them ‘unf’ or ‘fml’? I think I’d rather only have 10 people who I truly adore and who make me laugh on a daily basis, than 1000 people I barely know RTing my bullshit all day.
I’ve heard the other hypothesis is this is being done by nonstens trying to rally around a dying cause. But honestly, at this point, nonstens are a dying bread that isn’t even worth mentioning because really??? Really??
*Insert eye roll here*
It’s time for them to raise the white flag and surrender. Way past time actually. I see lots of friends in my TL discussing daily the rambling idiocy of the few remaining nonbelievers. But honestly, I can’t even deal with talking about these people for more than 5 seconds because it’s just a level of delusional denial that isn’t worth my time and energy. At this point, I think those people are like the little kid on the playground who is just trying to be obnoxious by saying the opposite of what’s true.
“No! The sky is not blue! It’s green!”
With that kid I find it best to just pat them on the head and let them run off and play with their imaginary friends… that’s how I feel about the nonstens. Just seclude them in their own bubble and ignore them completely. I guess it wouldn’t really surprise me if the fakers all turned out to be members of the retreating nonsten army. Obviously they’re all idiots and these fake sightings are idiocy. So maybe they do go together.
It’s not just the motivation behind these fabrications that gets me riled up. The MO for these ‘sightings’ also has me troubled.
Who are these people and what the hell kinda technology are they sporting?
They all seem to follow the same pattern: Make up sighting. Say OMG a handful of times till someone retweets you. Wait for the chain reaction to occur so people take notice. Then stick it to everyone: ‘Oh! I got pics! Will upload as soon as I get home! Don’t know when that will be though! I’m at my sister’s husband’s mother’s boyfriend’s house right now!’
Mmmmkay. And he doesn’t have a computer?
And what the fuck did they take the picture on anyway? A 1980’s Sony camcorder than they need to take home and put in a converter on their Betamax ? (The 20somethings reading this don’t even know what the hell I just said! Trust us 30somethings you’re glad you missed it.)
Much to Rob and Kristen’s chagrin, this is the ‘AOTCP’: Age Of The Camera Phone. If you really saw someone and were hiding in the bushes, like half of them claim, would you be hoisting a 10 pound camera outta your bag or popping out your iPhone and clicking away while you pretended to be texting?
Exactly. Me too.
And the last time you took a picture of your kids/pet/vacation/bestie/significantothe
It’s called: www.twitpic.com . There’s an App for that! And, it’s easy to use!
Where do these people live? Are we meant to believe they’ve never heard of 3G or Wi-fi? Are they the 2 people left on the planet using dialup? (Again, I just lost the 20somethings with that reference. Trust the 30somethings, you’re really glad you missed out on that. *Shaking myself to get the sound of “wheeeeesh, ding, ding, ding” outta my head*).
Perhaps these fabricators need an example of how a real sighting should sound? So for just a moment I’m gonna close my eyes and be a faker. Here is how I would sound if I really did see Rob and Kristen out walking Bear:
“OMG! Ded! Just saw R&K! She is even more beautiful in person. He is so fucking hawt!”
And now… I do actually understand the delay in pics – but here is the only legitimate and classy reason why:
“Wow, just wow. Got a quick pic, not gonna load till little later. Don’t wanna give away location while they’re still here.”
I should have prefaced my fakery with the caveat: This would never happen to me in real life because in the real world I would be frozen to the spot. My brain would disconnect from my body and I would be way too shy to dive in the bushes and whip out my iPhone. So the moment would pass me by so fast I’d still be left standing there wondering if I just had an out of body experience long after Bear had taken his dump and Rob and Kristen had faded back into the dark ninja hideout from which they came. But the difference between me and the fakers: I would put my big girl panties on and admit it. I wouldn’t fake the picture I didn’t get.
Kristen and Rob’s ability to move about the world in stealth fashion, even when they are being hunted like those poor kids in the Hunger Games, endlessly impresses me. (Come on now – you gotta admit to wondering how the hell she got outta the Caribbean without anyone papping her! Girlfriend should be giving an honorary Bachelor of Science in Stealth.) So maybe I’ve actually been looking at these fakers all wrong? I guess perhaps it is a compliment. Rob and Kristen are so accomplished at not being seen, people have taken to actually making up their outings rather than waiting for the real thing?
I think I’m one of those delusional people who doesn’t need to know what they are doing every damn day. I don’t need proof of their happy. I’ve seen it enough. It’s stored in my head and can be accessed whenever need be during periods of ‘drought’. Not to mention you know we’ve all right-click-saved enough we have hard drives full of ‘happy’…
I don’t know what Toronto holds in store for us this summer. Hopefully, it won’t be as bleak as Baton Rouge. (I remain convinced that the entire state of Louisiana must not have a single AT&T store, because those people all clearly have not entered AotCP with the rest of us! Or maybe they’re all just like me and were rooted to the spot?) But alas, if I have to choses, I’ll take stealthy silence over all these fakers telling us they just got to smoke a cigarette with Kristen in a town she’s not even in, on a street corner she’s never even seen.
So this is my message to all you fakers out there: Go treat yourself to a 3G camera phone. Google the term Wi-fi and then get a life.
Actually. Reverse that order. Just go get a life.
Even when they ‘finally get home.’
Who are these fakers? And why can’t they come up with a better hobby? It’s like twitter is a one trick pony lately. Honestly, if you’re like me, you’re so far behind in catching up on all the WFE press that a few days without any Robsten news really won’t send you over the edge at this point.
And truly, can we be too upset about not getting a real 25th bday sighting? Did you see the ElleUK outtakes? Yeah. If you were Rob what would you have asked for, for your birthday? Exactly…. It wouldn’t have involved leaving the house. Just sayin’.
I don’t understand the motivation behind these people who feel the need to make stuff up? Do they just wake up one day and say, ‘I think I’ll pretend I just saw Rob and Kristen!’?
I’ve seen it surmised that they are trying to score more followers? Did I miss the memo that states you should stake your self-worth on how many followers you have on twitter? Have you ever actually clicked on the follower lists of those folks who have 1000+ ‘friends’. Those lists are chock full of religious freaks, pornstar spammers and people trying to convince you to visit their website.
Want more followers? Tweet oh my God! or Sweet Baby Jesus a lot. I always seem to end up with more followers after I amp up the use of those phrases. They attract the ‘Christian Coalition of XXX’ and ‘BigDebbieDoesXXX’ real fast.
Why do these people need more twitter followers anyway? They want more people to care what they just ate for lunch or what made them ‘unf’ or ‘fml’? I think I’d rather only have 10 people who I truly adore and who make me laugh on a daily basis, than 1000 people I barely know RTing my bullshit all day.
I’ve heard the other hypothesis is this is being done by nonstens trying to rally around a dying cause. But honestly, at this point, nonstens are a dying bread that isn’t even worth mentioning because really??? Really??
*Insert eye roll here*
It’s time for them to raise the white flag and surrender. Way past time actually. I see lots of friends in my TL discussing daily the rambling idiocy of the few remaining nonbelievers. But honestly, I can’t even deal with talking about these people for more than 5 seconds because it’s just a level of delusional denial that isn’t worth my time and energy. At this point, I think those people are like the little kid on the playground who is just trying to be obnoxious by saying the opposite of what’s true.
“No! The sky is not blue! It’s green!”
With that kid I find it best to just pat them on the head and let them run off and play with their imaginary friends… that’s how I feel about the nonstens. Just seclude them in their own bubble and ignore them completely. I guess it wouldn’t really surprise me if the fakers all turned out to be members of the retreating nonsten army. Obviously they’re all idiots and these fake sightings are idiocy. So maybe they do go together.
It’s not just the motivation behind these fabrications that gets me riled up. The MO for these ‘sightings’ also has me troubled.
Who are these people and what the hell kinda technology are they sporting?
They all seem to follow the same pattern: Make up sighting. Say OMG a handful of times till someone retweets you. Wait for the chain reaction to occur so people take notice. Then stick it to everyone: ‘Oh! I got pics! Will upload as soon as I get home! Don’t know when that will be though! I’m at my sister’s husband’s mother’s boyfriend’s house right now!’
Mmmmkay. And he doesn’t have a computer?
And what the fuck did they take the picture on anyway? A 1980’s Sony camcorder than they need to take home and put in a converter on their Betamax ? (The 20somethings reading this don’t even know what the hell I just said! Trust us 30somethings you’re glad you missed it.)
Much to Rob and Kristen’s chagrin, this is the ‘AOTCP’: Age Of The Camera Phone. If you really saw someone and were hiding in the bushes, like half of them claim, would you be hoisting a 10 pound camera outta your bag or popping out your iPhone and clicking away while you pretended to be texting?
Exactly. Me too.
And the last time you took a picture of your kids/pet/vacation/bestie/significantothe
It’s called: www.twitpic.com . There’s an App for that! And, it’s easy to use!
Where do these people live? Are we meant to believe they’ve never heard of 3G or Wi-fi? Are they the 2 people left on the planet using dialup? (Again, I just lost the 20somethings with that reference. Trust the 30somethings, you’re really glad you missed out on that. *Shaking myself to get the sound of “wheeeeesh, ding, ding, ding” outta my head*).
Perhaps these fabricators need an example of how a real sighting should sound? So for just a moment I’m gonna close my eyes and be a faker. Here is how I would sound if I really did see Rob and Kristen out walking Bear:
“OMG! Ded! Just saw R&K! She is even more beautiful in person. He is so fucking hawt!”
And now… I do actually understand the delay in pics – but here is the only legitimate and classy reason why:
“Wow, just wow. Got a quick pic, not gonna load till little later. Don’t wanna give away location while they’re still here.”
I should have prefaced my fakery with the caveat: This would never happen to me in real life because in the real world I would be frozen to the spot. My brain would disconnect from my body and I would be way too shy to dive in the bushes and whip out my iPhone. So the moment would pass me by so fast I’d still be left standing there wondering if I just had an out of body experience long after Bear had taken his dump and Rob and Kristen had faded back into the dark ninja hideout from which they came. But the difference between me and the fakers: I would put my big girl panties on and admit it. I wouldn’t fake the picture I didn’t get.
Kristen and Rob’s ability to move about the world in stealth fashion, even when they are being hunted like those poor kids in the Hunger Games, endlessly impresses me. (Come on now – you gotta admit to wondering how the hell she got outta the Caribbean without anyone papping her! Girlfriend should be giving an honorary Bachelor of Science in Stealth.) So maybe I’ve actually been looking at these fakers all wrong? I guess perhaps it is a compliment. Rob and Kristen are so accomplished at not being seen, people have taken to actually making up their outings rather than waiting for the real thing?
I think I’m one of those delusional people who doesn’t need to know what they are doing every damn day. I don’t need proof of their happy. I’ve seen it enough. It’s stored in my head and can be accessed whenever need be during periods of ‘drought’. Not to mention you know we’ve all right-click-saved enough we have hard drives full of ‘happy’…
I don’t know what Toronto holds in store for us this summer. Hopefully, it won’t be as bleak as Baton Rouge. (I remain convinced that the entire state of Louisiana must not have a single AT&T store, because those people all clearly have not entered AotCP with the rest of us! Or maybe they’re all just like me and were rooted to the spot?) But alas, if I have to choses, I’ll take stealthy silence over all these fakers telling us they just got to smoke a cigarette with Kristen in a town she’s not even in, on a street corner she’s never even seen.
So this is my message to all you fakers out there: Go treat yourself to a 3G camera phone. Google the term Wi-fi and then get a life.
Actually. Reverse that order. Just go get a life.
It's Not All About Rob... And He Knows It.
My Twilight obsession is about so much more than just Rob.
And as much as I adore the man, my husband just doesn’t ‘get it’ when I tell him that fact. Somehow I need to find a way to convince him. I need to paint him a picture of why I’ve allowed this fandom, this phenomenon as pop media is so enamored with calling it, to become such an integral part of my day-to-day life.
Hubs goes through the motions of accepting my Twilight insanity ‘cause he says it makes me happy. And lucky for me, he’s a great guy and wants me to be happy. (Of course I suspect the real root of his begrudging acceptance may also be linked to the fact that fanfiction has *cough* had an impact on our sex life that he full endorses.)
But, in the back of his mind, I suspect he silently cheers when Twitter is over capacity and prays nightly that this ‘hobby’ of mine will die out long before the last installment of Breaking Dawn finally hits theatres 568 days and 11 hours from now.
A little over a month ago, he actually posted his own musing under the name ‘TwiWidow’ where he ranted a bit about the robporn folder on my harddrive and the lack of clean undies in his drawer since the day I first shed my goodgirl image and became the h00r better known as twopeas1pod. His posting was only up for 10 minutes – long enough for me to start crying and my besties to rapid fire RT me with a couple “OoO!”
The problem is hubs doesn’t see past the surface of the sparkle peen. You see he’s a lurker (wave hello @MisterPea) and all he focuses on are the UNF tweets over The Pretty. He thinks I’m just completely obsessed with Rob’s fuckhawtness and spend all day dreaming of him walking through our front door to whisk me away.
Ummmm. No.
Sadly, there are a few whack jobs in this fandom who really do have that notion, but I assure you I am not one of them. In fact, if were up to me we’d get a better bouncer to stand outside the entrance of this club and we’d throw their delusional asses right on out, along with anyone who has ever posted hate toward Kristen.
I have told MisterPea repeatedly I don’t want Rob whisking me away.
Not. At. All.
I want Rob to buy a front door to walk through with Kristen so he has a place to whisk her off to make some beautiful bronze haired, green eyed babies. I know many of you drink the same brand of Kool-Aid as me and understand this completely, but convincing hubs I feel this way is a challenge.
Don’t misunderstand me. Rob appeared in the tux on that big screen in WFE last Friday night and I wanted to jump up and shout, ‘Sweet Baby Jesus this man is hawt!’ I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t find him nice to gander at.
Daily. For hours on end.
But thruthfully, that alone is not why I’m here.
This whole thing is so much more than the sum of its parts. Yes, I adore Rob and all his adorkableness. Yes, I admire Kristen and all her nervous fierceness. Yes, I love Stephenie’s books and feel they relate to my own life experience. Those three things are what drew me to this fandom. But standing alone they are not what holds me here.
Daily. For hours on end.
At some point in-between watching biels’ Robsten vids, snot-crying while reading EP, planning a H00rTour with my besties and trying to find new abbreviations to squelch my wordiassness into 140 characters, I fell hard for this little family of ours. It completes me in strange ways that are just so hard to describe to ‘outsiders’.
I approach this, as many of you do, as a woman who walks through the world ‘wearing many hats’. I am mom. I am ‘honey’. I am a contributing member of my community. I am a daughter. I am head chef and chamber maid too. With the exception of that last one, I love all these roles I play. I have a happy, wonderfully blessed life. But at some point in the last 10 years, I started spending so much time changing my hats all damn day, I forgot perhaps the most crucial one in my wardrobe. Myself.
I’d become so many things to so many other people, I started to lose ‘me’.
And as corny and cliché as it sounds (queue the fucking Celine Dion music here), this fandom has helped me find out who I am again. And it’s a totally new and improved version. Version 2.0 is what hubs refers to me now… she knows LOTS more about life and living… and sex toys.
My twitter time is ‘me time’. And, while I feel tremendously guilty some days for wanting this ‘place’ to call my own, having it unlocks the happy inside me. People think we’re nutcases cause we adore this ‘crap’. To them ‘Twihards’ (Dear God I fucking HATE that name) are just the next crop of Trekkies. But it’s somehow so much more than that. It’s a connection to each other and to ourselves that was missing before. It’s ‘fun time’ that we lost somewhere between work and diaper changes and paying the bills.
I’ve tried before to describe twitter to my husband as one big ladies locker room. We can talk opening and honestly about anything. We talk Rob and Kristen and Twilight of course. But that is just the link that brought us all into the circle. Between our sqeees, virtual bewbie gropes, robporn exchanges and tweet-2-tweet battles with the Nonstens, we are sharing our lives and escaping our lives all at the same time.
Everyone needs an escape. Everyone. This Twilight fandom is mine.
My Timeline at any given moment is scientific proof of our eclectic hat collections:
Screencaps of Rob and Kristen; We are fangirls.
Jokes about our husbands or boyfriends; We are wives and significant others.
Celebrations over a lost tooth or a good grade on a spelling test; We are mothers.
Laments about our latest class assignment; We are students.
Giggles about sex toys because the last fanfiction we read inspired us; We are lovers.
Discussions about tragedies to which we should donate; We are benefactors
Complaints or compliments about bosses or co-workers; We are employees.
Love and empathy for one another; We are friends.
A friend of mine recently wrote a paper about Twitter relationships for her Master’s program. In it she ponders whether the relationships we build on Twitter are real. I think my husband and perhaps the rest of the free world, thinks they are not. When talking to one another we even use the expression ‘RL friends’ to talk about those with which we share ‘eye-to-eye’ relationships.
But I care about the people I know here. I enjoy their company. Isn’t that the definition of a friendship? (*Running to google it. Seriously, try it yourself. The Wikipedia definition of friendship made me actually want to go queue up that Celine Dion and happy-weep a little.*)
Perhaps my husband doesn’t get all this because I think women have a need for camaraderie with one another that men don’t seem to have. We need to feel that bond. We like being part of the group. For a long time I had lost that. I have a gaggle of those ‘RL friends’. Some of whom I’ve known since I was a child. But in recent years all our conversations have become sidetracked by all those damn hats.
We talk about our husbands and our kids and our jobs and our latest home improvement projects. We’ve stopped talking about ourselves. It’s like we all suddenly decided we had to be ‘grown ups’ and stop divulging our inner musings and goofy girlish dreams. I let myself think I was too old to have those things anymore. I missed that connection. But this fandom has brought it back to me.
What’s epically ironic is I actually think Rob might be the one man on this planet who gets all this.
Right around the time I morphed into twopeas, Oprah was busy asking the Holy Trinity why they think this ‘thing’ has taken hold of us all. Rob responded that he thinks we all like just spending time with one another doing ‘Twilight related things’. I remember him saying it – but at the time I didn’t understand it myself. Back then I thought, ‘Um, no Rob I just like the books and I think you and Kristen are adorable together.’
But, now it’s crystal clear to me what he was trying to say. And he’s right. Rob knows that this isn’t all about him. God bless his overly cerebral, down-to-earth ass for ‘getting it’ long before I did.
So Rob, honey, I know you’re a wee bit busy right now, but could you pop over and explain all this to my husband?
I don’t want you to whisk me away. I promise.
And as much as I adore the man, my husband just doesn’t ‘get it’ when I tell him that fact. Somehow I need to find a way to convince him. I need to paint him a picture of why I’ve allowed this fandom, this phenomenon as pop media is so enamored with calling it, to become such an integral part of my day-to-day life.
Hubs goes through the motions of accepting my Twilight insanity ‘cause he says it makes me happy. And lucky for me, he’s a great guy and wants me to be happy. (Of course I suspect the real root of his begrudging acceptance may also be linked to the fact that fanfiction has *cough* had an impact on our sex life that he full endorses.)
But, in the back of his mind, I suspect he silently cheers when Twitter is over capacity and prays nightly that this ‘hobby’ of mine will die out long before the last installment of Breaking Dawn finally hits theatres 568 days and 11 hours from now.
A little over a month ago, he actually posted his own musing under the name ‘TwiWidow’ where he ranted a bit about the robporn folder on my harddrive and the lack of clean undies in his drawer since the day I first shed my goodgirl image and became the h00r better known as twopeas1pod. His posting was only up for 10 minutes – long enough for me to start crying and my besties to rapid fire RT me with a couple “OoO!”
The problem is hubs doesn’t see past the surface of the sparkle peen. You see he’s a lurker (wave hello @MisterPea) and all he focuses on are the UNF tweets over The Pretty. He thinks I’m just completely obsessed with Rob’s fuckhawtness and spend all day dreaming of him walking through our front door to whisk me away.
Ummmm. No.
Sadly, there are a few whack jobs in this fandom who really do have that notion, but I assure you I am not one of them. In fact, if were up to me we’d get a better bouncer to stand outside the entrance of this club and we’d throw their delusional asses right on out, along with anyone who has ever posted hate toward Kristen.
I have told MisterPea repeatedly I don’t want Rob whisking me away.
Not. At. All.
I want Rob to buy a front door to walk through with Kristen so he has a place to whisk her off to make some beautiful bronze haired, green eyed babies. I know many of you drink the same brand of Kool-Aid as me and understand this completely, but convincing hubs I feel this way is a challenge.
Don’t misunderstand me. Rob appeared in the tux on that big screen in WFE last Friday night and I wanted to jump up and shout, ‘Sweet Baby Jesus this man is hawt!’ I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t find him nice to gander at.
Daily. For hours on end.
But thruthfully, that alone is not why I’m here.
This whole thing is so much more than the sum of its parts. Yes, I adore Rob and all his adorkableness. Yes, I admire Kristen and all her nervous fierceness. Yes, I love Stephenie’s books and feel they relate to my own life experience. Those three things are what drew me to this fandom. But standing alone they are not what holds me here.
Daily. For hours on end.
At some point in-between watching biels’ Robsten vids, snot-crying while reading EP, planning a H00rTour with my besties and trying to find new abbreviations to squelch my wordiassness into 140 characters, I fell hard for this little family of ours. It completes me in strange ways that are just so hard to describe to ‘outsiders’.
I approach this, as many of you do, as a woman who walks through the world ‘wearing many hats’. I am mom. I am ‘honey’. I am a contributing member of my community. I am a daughter. I am head chef and chamber maid too. With the exception of that last one, I love all these roles I play. I have a happy, wonderfully blessed life. But at some point in the last 10 years, I started spending so much time changing my hats all damn day, I forgot perhaps the most crucial one in my wardrobe. Myself.
I’d become so many things to so many other people, I started to lose ‘me’.
And as corny and cliché as it sounds (queue the fucking Celine Dion music here), this fandom has helped me find out who I am again. And it’s a totally new and improved version. Version 2.0 is what hubs refers to me now… she knows LOTS more about life and living… and sex toys.
My twitter time is ‘me time’. And, while I feel tremendously guilty some days for wanting this ‘place’ to call my own, having it unlocks the happy inside me. People think we’re nutcases cause we adore this ‘crap’. To them ‘Twihards’ (Dear God I fucking HATE that name) are just the next crop of Trekkies. But it’s somehow so much more than that. It’s a connection to each other and to ourselves that was missing before. It’s ‘fun time’ that we lost somewhere between work and diaper changes and paying the bills.
I’ve tried before to describe twitter to my husband as one big ladies locker room. We can talk opening and honestly about anything. We talk Rob and Kristen and Twilight of course. But that is just the link that brought us all into the circle. Between our sqeees, virtual bewbie gropes, robporn exchanges and tweet-2-tweet battles with the Nonstens, we are sharing our lives and escaping our lives all at the same time.
Everyone needs an escape. Everyone. This Twilight fandom is mine.
My Timeline at any given moment is scientific proof of our eclectic hat collections:
Screencaps of Rob and Kristen; We are fangirls.
Jokes about our husbands or boyfriends; We are wives and significant others.
Celebrations over a lost tooth or a good grade on a spelling test; We are mothers.
Laments about our latest class assignment; We are students.
Giggles about sex toys because the last fanfiction we read inspired us; We are lovers.
Discussions about tragedies to which we should donate; We are benefactors
Complaints or compliments about bosses or co-workers; We are employees.
Love and empathy for one another; We are friends.
A friend of mine recently wrote a paper about Twitter relationships for her Master’s program. In it she ponders whether the relationships we build on Twitter are real. I think my husband and perhaps the rest of the free world, thinks they are not. When talking to one another we even use the expression ‘RL friends’ to talk about those with which we share ‘eye-to-eye’ relationships.
But I care about the people I know here. I enjoy their company. Isn’t that the definition of a friendship? (*Running to google it. Seriously, try it yourself. The Wikipedia definition of friendship made me actually want to go queue up that Celine Dion and happy-weep a little.*)
Perhaps my husband doesn’t get all this because I think women have a need for camaraderie with one another that men don’t seem to have. We need to feel that bond. We like being part of the group. For a long time I had lost that. I have a gaggle of those ‘RL friends’. Some of whom I’ve known since I was a child. But in recent years all our conversations have become sidetracked by all those damn hats.
We talk about our husbands and our kids and our jobs and our latest home improvement projects. We’ve stopped talking about ourselves. It’s like we all suddenly decided we had to be ‘grown ups’ and stop divulging our inner musings and goofy girlish dreams. I let myself think I was too old to have those things anymore. I missed that connection. But this fandom has brought it back to me.
What’s epically ironic is I actually think Rob might be the one man on this planet who gets all this.
Right around the time I morphed into twopeas, Oprah was busy asking the Holy Trinity why they think this ‘thing’ has taken hold of us all. Rob responded that he thinks we all like just spending time with one another doing ‘Twilight related things’. I remember him saying it – but at the time I didn’t understand it myself. Back then I thought, ‘Um, no Rob I just like the books and I think you and Kristen are adorable together.’
But, now it’s crystal clear to me what he was trying to say. And he’s right. Rob knows that this isn’t all about him. God bless his overly cerebral, down-to-earth ass for ‘getting it’ long before I did.
So Rob, honey, I know you’re a wee bit busy right now, but could you pop over and explain all this to my husband?
I don’t want you to whisk me away. I promise.
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