More on all that.

Today I am out:

[-] One-tenth of a unit of blood.
[-] More bucks.
[-] Of patience with the doctor I saw today. His parting suggestion to me was: "Why don't you try losing some weight? That should make you feel better." He means the weight that I gained after he lowered my thyroid dosage to an amount that he doesn't even remember, which I reminded him of several times, probably. WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT EVER. He also asked how things were working out ("Good?") with the medication that I stopped taking over a year ago, because it was completely ineffective. I tried to be helpful by bringing in a typed list of my symptoms and complaints, and he told me he didn't have time to look at it. Gotta bounce! Call me next week sometime!


But I am in:

[-] An ophthalmology appointment tomorrow morning! Woooooo!!

A day in the life.

A while back I wanted to write something conflating the state of health care in the United States with my personal health care and insurance experiences. It was godawfully depressing, so I scrapped it. TL;DR: Health care reform doesn't only benefit the uninsured.

Anyway, here's a story.

Yesterday (It's Groundhog Day!) was my father's birthday. Just for reference. Shortly after waking up, I noticed a gray spot floating in my vision. If you'd like to help diagnose me, I will tell you that it's in the middle and slightly to the outside of the field of vision of my right eye. The best way I can describe it is that it looks like a sequin. It's perfectly round, with a hole in the middle, and sort of blinky. I can also see it when I close my eyes. My vision is not otherwise affected. I waited for it to go away or develop into a migraine or something, but it just kept on as is.

I hit the internet and learned all about floaters. From what I could tell, I was either perfectly fine and had nothing to worry about, or my retina was about to detach -- a completely painless process that might cause me permanent blindness. I think this is not likely based on what I've read, but you never know.

The best idea would be to call up an ophthalmologist. But of course, it is generally hard to get an appointment with a specialist in short order, which I figured is what I would need if something gruesome and irreversible were happening to me. So I opted to make an appointment with my primary care physician, who could at least let me know if I should start panicking and seek urgent care, or calm down and wait it out.

My doctor, it turns out, is on vacation for the next several weeks. I was able to secure an appointment instead with one of his associates. While this fellow may not have been the tooliest tool who ever tooled, he was still a real tool. I told him I had a spot in my vision. He then immediately told me that there was nothing he could do for me.

"Why didn't you go to your eye doctor?"
"Um, I don't have an eye doctor."
"Oh, so you need a referral."
"I don't know what I need. That's why I came here."

Before he scuttled out the door I asked if he could at least tell me whether or not my retina is detaching, and he told me know he has no way of knowing that. I did not, at that point, ask if I could have my money back. I should have though, because, seriously.

The referral actually came from the girls at the reception area. And, they are nice, but they are not doctors.

"Do you want someone in [the town where I live]?"
"Uh. I want someone who's good."
"Oh, they're all good. Here, this one's in [the town where I live]."

So I called this guy for an appointment when I got home. His receptionist kept trying to get me to specify a time window, and I tried to get her to specify a date. I mean, I can guarantee that I have more openings in my schedule than a doctor's office does in theirs. So you tell me what you have available, and I'll see if I can make it then. (I mean, seriously, is it me? With these people?) Anyway, the earliest appointment I could get is two weeks out. Which I now have, tentatively, booked.

Tomorrow I'm going to look for someone else who may have a closer appointment available. I called a place today called Retina Associates which seemed like a good bet, but was informed that, despite the fact that all the doctors there are listed as ophthalmologists, none of them are actually ophthalmologists. They deal exclusively with retina and inner eye issues, so unless I already know that's where the problem lies, they are not my best bet.

I'm seeing my endocrinologist tomorrow, and I'll ask him if he knows anyone, on the off-chance. Endocrinologists usually know people, I've found. He called me this morning to ask if he can bump my appointment up an hour. I agreed to it, but ... hell. That throws off my whole morning.

Basically, multiply this day by every 4-8 weeks or so, and you have what I do with myself all the time and where all my money goes.

I am not touched by your effusive sympathy!!!!

Guys, you know what's little and has fangs? ... Besides tiny vampires?

SPIDERS, PEOPLE. SPIDERS.

To be fair, I don't know if it was actually a spider. I'm just assuming it was because of, you know, logic. Mainly the preponderance of spiders in my house, and the lack of anything else that would do such a thing. And my having engaged in certain activities wherein I disturbed things in which spiders might live and then put my loungin' pants atop those things. And, you know, just in general. Although I must state that, while I remember feeling a pinch, it wasn't terrible enough that I thought that it was something that needed to be checked.

I was waiting to freak out because I naturally assumed that all my flesh was going to fall off and then I'd die. But it's now been over 48 hours, and it seems to be okay. It's not swollen, it's less red, the stab wounds scabbed, and it doesn't even itch. -- Which is completely suspicious if you ask me. Of course, it's possible that it was a dry bite. That happens, I'm told.

Either that or this was only a first exposure, and the inevitable next time I will go into anaphylaxis and die.

NOW COMFORT ME DAMMIT.

Oh God, are you still seeing that terrible story?

I did attempt to update a couple times, but then I got bored or petulant or some other emotion that made me not want to do it. So you missed out on me talking about: knitting; dreams; computer programs. Please ... do not weep.

So, anyway, who's good at Excel and is willing to give me pointers? Apparently I've never had cause to use spreadsheets before. I know, right? So now here we are.

Speaking of New Jersey!

You should totally come live with me!

By "with" I mean "near"! And by "you" I mean ... well, you know which ones you are. The house up the block is for sale. It has hardwood floors, a second-floor patio, no space for multiple children, and only costs a cool half-mil! Which we've all got sitting around, right fellows? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR.

I also have it on good authority that that the house next door to it will also be sold soon. It shouldn't be as expensive. Probably. I mean, it's, like, half the size.

And this is more or less while I will likely never be able to support myself and live like an adult.

PS. The taxes are GODDAMN RIDICULOUS! Act now!

In other, non-death related news.

Today I drove to the supermarket. Or "mart" as I like to call it. This is really not interesting. For a portion of the drive, I was behind a car that I couldn't identify. It didn't look especially fancy. The front was oddly tapered. The logo on the back was an oval, with a capital "R", slanting to the right, with what I'd guess you'd call a strikethrough.

Approximately like so:



Some script off the the right let me know that the car is "supercharged." It had no other distinguishing markings. I determined that when I returned home, I would google this anomaly and edify myself.

GOOGLE FAILED ME. I checked long lists of logos including those of companies that haven't existed since the 30s. Searching for the letter "r" is an exercise in futility. I am bitterly disappointed.

What is it?! I don't know! What if I never find out? Can you help me? Do you know? SOMEONE TELL ME.

Why I simultaneously need, and do not need, a Twitter.

First and foremost, I don't want a Twitter. I dislike most websites that fall under the heading of "social networking." Also, I don't care what I do all day. If I were doing anything interesting enough to warrant frequent documentation, I wouldn't have the time.

Sometimes, though, I think about what I would write in my hypothetical Twitter. Or something will happen, and I'll think it's just the sort of thing I would Twitter about. You know, stuff that's not really blog-appropriate. I thought about compiling some of these things, and making a blog entry about Things I Would Have Twittered, but I never actually write them down, and then I forget about them and no longer care.

Furthermore, while I may want to write these things down, I don't exactly want people to read them. I don't want people to follow me, I don't want to follow anyone, I especially don't want to follow anyone famous, and I don't want to be in any way connectable or findable. (I totally Googled some people I knew in high school yesterday.)

On some other hand, though, Twitter would provide a great venue for cryptic one-liners. And those are my favorite. I would be utterly delighted to give my inscrutable gibberish as little context as possible. I am positively itching to let you know everything while letting you know nothing!!

... It is not and has never been a mystery why I have trouble socializing.

status

In the good news pile, my internet is repaired. Yes, just today. It ... please. In other news, though, I have the plague. But probably not swine flu, and I don't think I will become a zombie, so that's pretty good. Of course, I frequently have the plague. I'd estimate that I have some sort of respiratory infection or inflammation approximately 40% of the time, I just don't tell you about it. It would be like saying, "By the way, I still have fingers." But I mentioned it last time so I feel the need to tie up loose ends. Also it relates to my next two points:

- I was going to make a post for Mother's Day which I'd been planning to write since last Father's Day. I didn't, because I was busy having plague. So when I write it eventually, pretend that it's adorably timely.

- I will be house sitting this weekend, and besides watching a lot of HBO OnDemand and eating less healthily than usual, I will probably be bored. I was going to suggest you call me! You know, if you want to geek out about your new iPod, or if you've had a baby (or want to talk about Lost, whichever), or if you have an international calling card you're desperate to waste, or what have you. It could have been fun! But I kind of can't talk because I have plague. So I hope there's reruns of True Blood.

Things that are currently killing me.

In no particular order:

1. My sinuses. It's too early to tell if I have an ear infection, a cold, swine flu, or if I just breathed in too much pine tree (which may lead to one of the preceding), but the left side of my face is not happy.

2. My uterus? I don't even know what body parts are at issue, but I've been having lots of pain in the lower abdominal region for a few weeks. And no, it's not that thing that women get. Or, I don't know, maybe it's that thing that some women get, me being one of those women. Maybe I should have mentioned that this one was going to be about stuff growing on my girl organs. OH SORRY. Anyway, this is not a new problem, but if this is what it is, it's certainly a new intensity.

3. Money. Or rather, my lack thereof. You know how poor you are? I wish I were that poor right now.

4. My mother. Enough said.

5. The internet, general. For the past three days I have had a slow, wonky connection. This sucks because not only am I on the internet all the time, some of that time spent on the internet I'm actually doing important things that may cause me to be less poor. Also because if I see "Page Load Error" one more time, I may have to do something crazy like go watch television or maybe even read a book. I could have been doing both those things on the internet!

6. The internet, specific. Take a look at this. In the immortal words of the great Christian Bale, NO, FUCK NO!

and, as always...
7. Other people. Hell, it is them.

Radio woes.

Do you remember the last time I talked about radio? It turns out it was almost a year ago. But I still listen when I drive in my car! Which means that I listen to the radio at least three days a week, often more!

Here is my tale of woe: I may have to break up with WRXP. I may have to do this because WRXP may be turning into K-Rock.

Now, the last time I talked about K-Rock was here. At the time I was very pleased with it. Although I didn't expressly mention it, that turned out to be very short-lived. When I was in high school, I referred to K-Rock almost exclusively as "Douche Rock." On the surface I did this to annoy my guy friends who were enamored of it. In reality, it was so called because the entire station was nothing but a cesspool of bad music, casual misogyny, and obnoxious djs designed to appeal exclusively to the young male in extended adolescence. Actually, I can sum it up in two words: Howard Stern.

It was entertaining for a while, as described in my previous entry. Then they decided to trumpet their resurgence with a new ad campaign that featured mostly naked girls, inviting listeners to check out the station's online galleries, where they could surf until their hands cramped. And they expanded their 90s-based repertoire with whiny screamo.

But no matter, for I had my new radio boyfriend, WRXP, New York's Rock Experience.

Fast forward to ... I don't know, last month, maybe? K-Rock is off the air! I know! It has been replaced with a station where I can listen to all those new Britney Spears songs and actually find out what Lady GaGa sounds like, if I so choose. On the surface, this should be, if not positive news, then at least neutral-leaning-towards-positive news. I mean, I only ever listened to it if all the other stations were simultaneously playing commercials and/or U2. (Update on that, incidentally: They never fucking stopped rhapsodizing about U2, so I actually do kind of hate them now.)

But about two weeks ago, I was driving towards my home, and an ad came on, aimed at former K-Rock listeners. It promised them a new home at WRXP, as well as a familiar voice: one of the K-Rock djs would join the station, and do a ridiculously long shift in the afternoon/early-evening. Ugh. ... Ugh. I was already mildly angry from a few days prior when they had played a song by Fall Out Boy. (I think, anyway; I don't actually know what song it was, but it was whiny.)

But never let it be said that I don't give things a fair optimistic chance before deciding that I loathe them. I mean, I expected Twilight to be good. It took almost two weeks for me to write this entry.

I still don't know his name, but Christ, he's awful. The sort that thinks things are funnier when he shouts them. The sort that thinks he is desperately funny, and laughs at his own jokes to further that impression. The sort that addresses callers as "dude" and "my man." I was hoping it would abate with time and he would fit in with the tone of the other djs at the station.

Today he was giving away free tickets, in the manner that radio stations sometimes do. A woman called in, and he greeted her by saying: "Oh, a lovely female caller, hello." After telling her that she was the winner, he mimicked her excitement in an overwrought falsetto. He then told her that she was getting the tickets on a "five-finger discount" to which he then added: "That's Ebonics for 'free'." After I put my jaw back in place, I changed the station, because I'd heard enough.

I feel like I should write to the station to complain, but I don't know what to say. I hate to be one of those people who only comments to complain. But on the other hand, ever since they arrived on the airwaves, they've been billing themselves as a refreshing change from all the terrible radio New York has to offer. And up until now, they were. But there's a reason that people were looking for a change from stations like K-Rock, and dare I say, a reason K-Rock is now off the air. I am most displeased.

To make matter worse, I just saw one of those spiders in my bedroom and now I don't know where it is and it's probably going to bite me in my sleep. ... I know that part has nothing to do with radio, but COME ON. ETA: I met my enemy for a second time and succeeded in slaughtering the foul beast. Other problem still stands.

My life: fuck it.

So, I have this external hard drive. And on this I have 90% of all my personal computing business. And no, most of it is not backed up, don't even bother talking about it, now is not the time and I don't want to hear it.

I was playing a video file and it stopped. Not crashed, just started working slowly and poorly. This was my only indication that something was awry. Suddenly my drive is corrupted and unreadable. I turn it off, unplug it, replug it, turn it back on. Windows tells me that the drive needs to be formatted before I can use it. fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

I am now confused and stressed and fearful and upset over the uncertainty. But then, since this is my DEFAULT STATE these days, I'm not really reacting at all. I refuse to lose my shit until I deem it absolutely necessary. I just need to massage my jaw a little maybe.

I am attempting to recover the data, and I do not know how that will go because I have no idea what I'm doing and I'm not thinking clearly. If you have any helpful advice, please feel free to impart it.

In the meantime: fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

ETA - THE ANSWER IS YAY!

Local girl survives weekend in freezing woods; subsisted on cookies, she says.

There is an article about Neko Case in this week's edition of the New York Times Magazine. MY SPHERES ARE INTERSECTING AND I DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS. And unlike in most instances where I say that and I really mean, "My feelings about this matter lean towards the negative," this time I really don't know! I mean, on one hand there's yay, but on the other hand there's a lot of ???.

In other news, I sprained my ankle and it's still impressively swollen and there's some bruising. But I can walk okay. Also, I discovered that 280 East has a lot of things in common with Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.

But aside from that, I had a nice weekend. And there were cookies!

CHANGE is coming you guys!

I've been hearing about it for so long, and the the wait is almost over and I can't wait. The time is almost upon us!

The time I'm talking about, of course, is February 18, the day when we can finally stop hearing about the digital television transition. I mean: JESUS TAP-DANCING CHRIST. I don't even watch very much television, yet if I happen to even be passing by one, there's a statistical likelihood that there's a digital transition commercial on it.

I'M READY TO STOP HEARING ABOUT THIS ALREADY.

IDLING.

Ugh.

I'm not doing anything right now. This is not by any means unusual: I have plenty of times where I'm not doing anything. Right now, though, there are things that I need to get done. And I can't do them! I can't even start on them until at least tomorrow, if then. I want to do things. I need to do things. But instead of doing anything, I'm only sitting around feeling antsy and metaphorically itchy.

The universe is not cooperating with my schedule. Doesn't it know when Christmas is?

Goddamn it, AOL.

I just got an email telling me that AOL Hometown FTP is being shut down on October 31. I still use that sometimes! And what am I going to do with all my wares? And what of all the xs that are going to appear everywhere I've used those pictures? I HATE WHEN THAT HAPPENS.

Um. Tell me what I should do. I don't feel well and I'm in no mood for thinking.

Maybe it is me.

Last week, between Doctor Who and this community I joined that I don't want to tell you about, I don't think I moved from the computer for maybe 72 hours. In lieu of trying to remember what meals I missed, let me just say: all of them.

But now? I just had a "the internet is so boring" moment.

My recent experience taught me that I don't necessarily want to revive the days when all I would do was sit in front of a high-volume community for hours on end. Even if it is consistently entertaining. For one thing, I have other shit to do. (Which, not that I didn't in high school, but ... eh ... not really ... eh ... I don't really now either ... eh.) Also I'm old now and I get thrown into crises about how my life is slipping away and is essentially over every other day. (Yeah, I know. I don't want to hear it. When was the last time you tried to break into an industry obsessed with youth and beauty?)

AND TODAY I'M ALREADY BORED WITH THE INTERNET.

I'm so bored I just blogged, basically. So, I'm going to go do some needlepoint and watch the Colbert Report and mull over all the responsibilities I'm shirking.

What is wrong with me?

Y/Nay!!!

Today is National Iced Tea Day!!

... But I don't have any iced tea!

WHAT IS THIS UNCONSCIONABLE INJUSTICE?!

Post like you meme it.

Pat came up with this. And because it is great, I am promulgating it. Do it!

Steps:
1) Go to this site and you can find out what song was #1 (according to Billboard Magazine) on the US Charts on any particular week in history.

2) Look up your birthday.

3) List the #1 songs that have occurred on your birthday throughout the years you've been alive.

4) Cringe at how bad music was, and how bad it is now!


Thing:
1983 - "Say, Say, Say" by Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson
1984 - "Out of Touch" by Daryl Hall and John Oates
1985 - "Broken Wings" by Mr. Mister
1986 - "The Next Time I Fall" by Peter Cetera and Amy Grant
1987 - "Heaven Is A Place On Earth" by Belinda Carlisle (Hooray! I love this song!)
1988 - "Look Away" by Chicago
1989 - "We Didn't Start The Fire" by Billy Joel (And the number of times I heard this song around that time was ... a lot.)

1990 - "Because I Love You (The Postman Song)" by Stevie B (Umm. What?)
1991 - "Black Or White" by Michael Jackson (Yes.)
1992 - "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston
1993 - "I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)" by Meat Loaf
1994 - "On Bended Knee" Boyz II Men
1995 - "One Sweet Day" Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men
1996 - "Unbreak My Heart" by Toni Braxton (My birthday is like the showcase for the Ultimate 90s Playlist)
1997 - "Something About The Way You Look Tonight/Candle In The Wind 1997" by Elton John (Really? Was there a medley I was unaware of?)
1998 - "I'm Your Angel" by Celine Dion and R. Kelly (If this were a list of "Songs I Hate With A Fiery Passion," this song would be at the top. Jesus Christ I hate this song so much.)
1999 - "Smooth" by Santana featuring Rob Thomas

2000 - "Independent Women Part I" by Destiny's Child (I'm surprised it's not still "Smooth," actually.)
2001 - "Family Affair" by Mary J. Blige
2002 - "Lose Yourself" by Eminem (Is this the one that won the Oscar? [It won the Oscar, right?] I've still never actually heard it except in clips.)
2003 - "Stand Up" by Ludacris featuring Shawna (Who and what now?)
2004 - "My Boo" by Usher and Alicia Keys (Hehehehehe. I haven't heard this one either, but that just sounds embarrasing.)
2005 - "Run It!" by Chris Brown (... Nope.)
2006 - "I Wanna Love You" by Akon featuring Snoop Dogg (Really?)
2007 - "No One" by Alicia Keys (This one I've totally heard.)

It's pretty craptastical. However, I have to say that the weirdest part was how many fucking years there were. Seriously! They just keep going! Especially towards the end there. There just keep being more years.

Alright, now, seriously.

Am I the only person who knows that it's spelled storey? And that the plural is storeys? Seriously! Did I grow up in a parallel universe? The spellcheck isn't even recognizing it!

At least it was technically free.

This is one of at least three blog posts that I plan on writing today. Right now. With only breaks to get more apple juice and maybe dinner, depending on how late this goes.

Okay, so, what this post is about is, see, I recently picked up and read Twilight, the first in the eponymous book series by author Stephenie Meyer. I would like to talk about that.

Fair warning, if you have any interest in reading this series, you probably shouldn't read any more, because I really don't know if I can be bothered to use spoiler tags. Maybe, though! We'll see.

Twilight has recently been heavily pimped by the Harry Potter podcasts I listen to. Prior to that, I don't think I'd heard of it. The Potter geeks are interested because a movie version is in the process of being made, and the male lead is to be played by Robert "at least three 't's HOTTT" Pattinson, better known to most of us as the late, lamented, Cedric Diggory. After some cursory research, I found that the film will also include a few more people whom I register on the neutral/positive spectrum: Kristen Stewart, whom I greatly enjoyed in Panic Room, wherein she played a character who was essentially Lauren (though I've so far not managed to see her in anything else), and Michael Welch, who was wonderful as Amber Tamblyn's brother on "Joan Of Arcadia."

Variety of title style is getting a workout in this entry.

So, anyway, after they'd mentioned this a few times, I decided to try it out. I was promised sexy times, action adventure, and vampires. Seriously, odds are it was up my alley.

I went to the library to try to snag it there, but for the third time in a row, the book was listed as being in the library, but it was not on the shelf. So, either my public library has a large problem with theft, or they can't catalogue for shit. I wound up picking it up at the Barnes & Noble because I found a gift card I had for $30. I also finally picked up the last Ted Leo album.

The book is about 500 pages, and I finished it in less than 24 hours, gross time, even with doing other actual activities. This book bothered me greatly. Why, you may ask? It is a resplendent example of why I'm scared to write a novel: because I worry that this is the sort of story I would produce. Now, don't misunderstand. I'm not saying I didn't like it. I did, after all, just pay it the high compliment of saying that I could see myself writing it.[/hubris] I'm saying that it wasn't any good.

I checked out the author's website, and I read some of her background on her writing. (This is her first novel.) Among the things that quirked my lip corners: She got the idea for this story from a dream. Also, she obsesses mainly over the details of the characters. And she looks a lot like Charisma Carpenter. That last point is just for color.

She takes an awful amount of pages to say not very much. There's no plot to speak of, except towards the end where the characters passively happen to fall into a weak and contrived scenario. There's no active decision making that I can remember at all. The writing is painfully repetitive. The human girl's vampire boyfriend is very pretty. The author mentions this in every sentence in which he is described. Which happens 5-10 times for every scene that he's in. ... Which is pretty much every scene. Also, the human girlfriend is clumsy. Vampires are pale. She loves her vampire boyfriend. Her breath catches. Her heart beats erratically. Et cetera. Also, the vampire boyfriend has some sort of issue where he'll go from laughing to scowling and angry to smiling every other sentence. In a few years, if you're ever flipping through the premium channels and you catch Mr. Pattinson and he's doing this - he's not insane. He's in character.

The secondary vampire characters are all fairly ridiculous and not worth mentioning. They attend high school for Chrissakes. Listen, if you were a hundred years old, would you go back to high school? On purpose? Even if people left you alone and you aced all your tests and occasionally got a human girlfriend? No. You would not. There are a variety of subplots that wind up never having anything to do with anything. And of course there's the usual dilemma. You know, the vampire boyfriend totally loves the human girlfriend and they want to be with each other forever, but of course he doesn't want to make her a vampire. Except, see, in the mythology created by this book, and in the context of this story, this makes no effing sense. Seriously. As written, every single objection is discounted or can be worked around. So the dilemma comes across as preposterously artificial, and I was instantly tired with the whole thing as soon as we got there. Because I've read this before. Innumerable times. And it's been done. Better.

Of course, they don't really address the question of whether or not vampires have souls. I'm going to have to come down on the side of "no" though, because of one exchange. The vampire boyfriend claims that he likes music from the 50s and the 80s, but not the 60s or the 70s. And I can't. freaking. understand that! He must be evil, because that's a completely soulless thing to say. Furthermore, it doesn't make any sense. Most of the music in the 80s was a direct derivative of the music they were playing in the 70s, except for the teeny pop, which was based on the music of the early 60s. THAT SHIT MAKES NO SENSE. Get me a flow chart. What is he saying? That he would rather hear Tiffany than the Jackson 5? He would rather listen to Billy Joel than Bob Dylan? Poison is better than the Zep? Is he seriously saying that he prefers WHAM! to the Beatles? Human girlfriend: dump his stupid evil ass.

Of course, the author listed some of her musical preferences on her website, and she's got shit taste, too, so this perhaps explains it.

So, wait, what was my point? Oh yes. I worry that I would write something like this. I mean, obviously, my taste in music is better, and I would like to believe that my writing skills are better, but about the meandering plotless vacuum with excessive focus on character thing. About vampires or something like that. What's baffling, though, is that this series seems to have a large cult following. It's mostly teenage girls OMGing about romance and hot boys, but still. It was a NY Times bestseller. It's gotten all sorts of good reviews from various sources. Is it me? Are people just not that discriminating anymore? And ... I don't know, could that conceivably work to my advantage?

I'm not as keyed up about it as the entry probably sounds, though I have all these issues. Again, I didn't dislike it. I'm a sucker for vamp angst. It's like chicken. Even if it's not the greatest, I'll probably eat it. It's one of the few things I enjoy. But I definitely won't be getting the follow-up books. Especially as I'm given to understand that a werewolf storyline gets introduced, and man, I just don't have the time. The book collectively took less than 6 hours of my life, but I just do not have the time for that.