I was coming out of the train station today when I spotted two people wearing yellow jackets and trainers, handing out leaflets. My mind went into panic mode: SHIT they're over there and I'm here, and I need to get there, shit, I don't want more crap to go into my handbag, it's already pretty heavy as it is, ah damn, I can't even avoid them, look at them, with their yellow costumes, shoving pieces of paper in people's faces, sticking out their arms like weird boxing ninjas, they think they can outsmart me with their careful positioning, I'll show them, I'm not accepting more rubbish, I can't believe they're cutting down forests for this crap, as if junk mail is not enough, now we have to put up with junk in our bags, pockets, hands, it's not as if I want yet another Chinese Take Away Menu, or some crappy offer on psychic readings, oh no, LOOK DOWN, LOOK DOWN, DON'T LOOK THEM IN THE EYE, THEY'LL GIVE YOU A PIECE OF PAPER, AAAH SHIT, THEY'RE EVERYWHERE, I DON'T KNOW WHERE I'M GOING, CRAP A PIECE OF PAPER! They shoved it right under my face! UNDER MY FACE! Ruthless yellow people!
And so, with my sense of privacy and personal space totally violated, I hold the yellow piece of card in my hand, and it tells me to go to the Gym.
First that piece of paper, then it's that girl from Steps who comes on TV telling us to buy her new fitness DVD, because REALLY THERE'S NOTHING OUT THERE LIKE IT- THIS IS DANCE AND AEROBICS- TOTALLY INNOVATIVE- STEPPING UP AND DOWN A BOX HAS NEVER BEEN MORE FUN! And then it's Paul Mckenna saying that he can make me thin, but what he doesn't know is that what I really REALLY want is to be made into a Broadway musical star and a world famous ventriloquist. Starbucks are telling me to get my Caramel Machiatto, my Hot Chocolate and my Vanilla Late Skinny.
Either the Universe has tired of my over eating and wants me to FIND A WAY TO A SLIMMER FITTER YOU, or everyone is cashing in on the widespread post-celebratory guilt.
Pre-celebrations your TV screams out at you to go forth and purchase copious amounts of cakes, because they're less expensive than anywhere else and made by the cakemaster who only bakes during Christmas, brought to us minions by the fauns who live under the snow and have eyes that rotate 360 degrees. HOWEVER. Post-celebration era brings forth the dark reign of THE HEALTH CONSCIOUS KING OF NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS- the creator of the fitness DVD and the perfect detox diet. The motivational speaker who says that YOU CAN BE BETTER THAN YOU ARE, BUT FIRST YOU MUST FEEL THAT YOU ARE GOOD ENOUGH. And forth come the elves of the farms and the land of non-GM food, with their fresh fruit and veg and healthy eating options for under 5 quid.
NO I am not under the influence of recreational drugs, but it does seem that anything is a chance to consume nowadays- eat less, eat more, excercise, relax- WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT US TO DO? I refuse to watch Davina Mccall working out whilst listening to The Song Of The Beached Whale, and eating a £1 CHOCLIT GATOU from Iceland.
And I refuse to make a list of what I want to do, just for it to be ignored! Why must I make resolutions NOW and not any other day of the year? Why can't I make them in August? Why wait all year for the 1st of January in order to change something you're not happy with?
THIS IS WHAT I SAY TO YOU LOVELY PEOPLE OUT THERE GETTING JUNK MAIL AND HAVING PAMPHLETS BEING SHOVED IN YOUR FACE:
FUCK RESOLUTIONS, CHANGE WHATEVER YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF TODAY, OR TOMORROW, OR ANY OTHER DAY! DO ALL THE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO NOW INSTEAD OF SETTING A WHOLE YEAR'S DEADLINE FOR YOURSELF! Because New Year Resolutions are the main cause of Mid life Crisis, and if everyone did what they really wanted to do instead of what they were told to do, there wouldn't be any 40 year old men driving red porsches and getting tattoos of their dead cats even though they never did like red cars or tattoos. So save yourself the risk of sleeping with a 20 year old when you're 40 and contracting an STI, SAY NO TO NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS!
Stay safe, wear a condom!
AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!
xoxoxo
Friday, 9 January 2009
Friday, 26 December 2008
Yule Shoot Your Eye Out
The following is a summary of my week so far:
Tuesday: Cleaned up some more and spent the whole day baking cakes and cleaning up and painting my doorway and dying my roots and doing other household related things
Wednesday: The guests arrive, all of them are my mother's and her husband's friends, none of whom I actually know. My neighbour sends her weird niece over to meet me because we are the same age. She is 20. I am 17. She says she wants to go to Uni in London. She doesn't speak english. She is a moron. With wild eyes. Wild racist eyes.
Thursday: I wake up after a couple of hours sleep to a trashed house and the sound of a very high pitched laughter that, amazingly, is a man's. This preturbs me deeply, and I am further ailed by the discovery that someone has broken my recently purchased lipstick.
Today: Cleaning up. And making a list of people to kill for breaking my stuff and stealing one of my most prized possessions.
IN CONCLUSION: Christmas with a house full of strangers sucks. I knew it would. And my expectations were certainly met. Not only did I wrap up my own present, it wasn't even what I had asked for two months ago. Apparently it was too short notice. Note to self: figure out what you want for next christmas, so that you actually get it on time.
I actually thought that maybe my mother would give me something really thoughtful instead of something that she wanted for herself. No way JOSE!
And there is no point in cleaning your house for people because all they do is make it worse than it was in the first place, the ungreatful fucks.
And my hypothesis that Christmas is total bollocks has been certified and accepted. Because Christmas IS total bollocks. And so are your parent's friends.
Moving on from festive bollockery, the only thing Christmas is good for is that you don't have work/school for two weeks or so. And this means you can spend your evenings in front of the TV watching pretty good films!
As you see, this blog is coming towards you at the speed of a retarded snail, and so it has been approximately ten days since le Noel, and all of the above actually happened LAST YEAR!
One word of advice my blogging friends: NEVER have complete strangers in your house during Christmas (or any other time of the year), and NEVER spend NYE in the company of your family and a fat man who looks like Hurley from Lost, watching the countdown on TV.
Sad.
Friday, 19 December 2008
Ramblings of an insane (and pseudo-emo) person
I have a gift. I can smell bad news a million miles away. Today this gift came into play as I logged on to hotmail, checked my inbox and found an ominous email from UCAS (the university application site). LOW AND BEHOLD- the tidings were of failure. What a better way to end a weird day and confirm all my insecurities!! The first time I hear from a university at all it's to tell me they don't want me to study there.
Part of me, the self-loathing, self-deprecating, self-doubting part, which constitutes 80% of my psyche isn't at all surprised, but shocked that the hope of getting into one of the top 5 Unis in the country is completely crushed, and thinks that this is all what I deserve for not taking things seriously enough and being lazy and not dedicating myself completely.
The other part, the wishful part, is angry because actually, it has been fucking hard getting to where I am right now, and circumstances have been anything but stable, and all the grades I have gotten have been out of my own achievement, no tuition, no extra help at all, not even any "borrowing" from the internet. Surely that must count for something? All the anguish, all the hard work (not consistent, but when I do work hard I work like a motherbitch). I held on to the hope that maybe, just fucking MAYBE, this isn't all just random, and that maybe I'd get a break, maybe I'd get what I wanted for once - ever.
All the time, life has been just waiting around, trying to see things work themselves out, and working out the reasons for everything. And nothing is really happening for any reason at all. I just know that in the end I won't get the only thing I truly wanted- to go to Uni, and be the first person in my family to get a degree. To get some sort of validation for myself.
It is the first reply from my five options, but I just know that if this Uni doesn't want me, neither will my first choice. And no matter how I put it, it's infuriating and it hurts.
HOWEVER! 'Tis the season, and as of today I am off school for 2 weeks, which is just what I need- sleep, sleep, and more sleep! And, of course, I will get the much needed time I need to spend listening to music, reading and doing the things that make me happy (eating included)! I also have 3 pieces of coursework to re-draft and complete, but that just spoils l'esprit de noel!
I read in Psychologies that success is almost completely due to chance and the opportunities given to you by your class, upbringing, education, loads of practice and even the time you are born, which is pretty hopeless, but made me want to do my 10,000 hours of writing (apparently, 10,000 hours is the amount of practice needed to really improve and not loose an ability).
But for now I shall mourn my future whilst listening to The Fray (jeez, how sad).
Bon soir, and a lovely end of term :D
xoxoxo
Part of me, the self-loathing, self-deprecating, self-doubting part, which constitutes 80% of my psyche isn't at all surprised, but shocked that the hope of getting into one of the top 5 Unis in the country is completely crushed, and thinks that this is all what I deserve for not taking things seriously enough and being lazy and not dedicating myself completely.
The other part, the wishful part, is angry because actually, it has been fucking hard getting to where I am right now, and circumstances have been anything but stable, and all the grades I have gotten have been out of my own achievement, no tuition, no extra help at all, not even any "borrowing" from the internet. Surely that must count for something? All the anguish, all the hard work (not consistent, but when I do work hard I work like a motherbitch). I held on to the hope that maybe, just fucking MAYBE, this isn't all just random, and that maybe I'd get a break, maybe I'd get what I wanted for once - ever.
All the time, life has been just waiting around, trying to see things work themselves out, and working out the reasons for everything. And nothing is really happening for any reason at all. I just know that in the end I won't get the only thing I truly wanted- to go to Uni, and be the first person in my family to get a degree. To get some sort of validation for myself.
It is the first reply from my five options, but I just know that if this Uni doesn't want me, neither will my first choice. And no matter how I put it, it's infuriating and it hurts.
HOWEVER! 'Tis the season, and as of today I am off school for 2 weeks, which is just what I need- sleep, sleep, and more sleep! And, of course, I will get the much needed time I need to spend listening to music, reading and doing the things that make me happy (eating included)! I also have 3 pieces of coursework to re-draft and complete, but that just spoils l'esprit de noel!
I read in Psychologies that success is almost completely due to chance and the opportunities given to you by your class, upbringing, education, loads of practice and even the time you are born, which is pretty hopeless, but made me want to do my 10,000 hours of writing (apparently, 10,000 hours is the amount of practice needed to really improve and not loose an ability).
But for now I shall mourn my future whilst listening to The Fray (jeez, how sad).
Bon soir, and a lovely end of term :D
xoxoxo
Saturday, 6 December 2008
I LOVE WIRELESS
It is so fucking great I could cry, FINALLY I can bum out with my laptop (which, I have recently discovered, is perfect in every way, and nicely porpotionate to my weird little hands and although its only a 2gb affair, it is quite enough for my computing needs). Not only can I bum out and vegetate, I can do it in the fashion I enjoy best: on my lovely big new bed - it's like being entertained whilst lying on a giant marshmallow. I will, however, not go back to my former habits (being online until late watching randomers make fools of themselves on youtube and watching episodes of my favourite series until 4 in the morning).
In fact, I hereby declare, that as of today, I, the writer of this shitty blog entitled Wind Up Citrus, will better herself in every way possible in order to achieve enlightenment (more like, will study like a crazy motherfucker on redbull and ritalin in order to get four A's). Ofcourse, if I were to be really ambitious I would add a diet to the plans of self improvement, but it's been tried A LOT, and I have the will power of a serial killer, and am sort of getting used to being chubby, after 13 years of wanting to lose weight but not really succeeding. OK, fuck it, why not go down a dress size AND get 4 A's, both unlikely, but both possible within reason! I'll bloody commit to this crap this time (I hope)!
On the topic of commitment, I had a crazy arse dream the other night about getting a tattoo of a question mark on my wrist. And in the dream I said I had done it because of this quote from Room with a View (which we're studying right now for English)
At the side of the everlasting Why, there is a yes! And a yes! And a yes!
Mr Emmerson says that in the second Chapter: In Santa Croce with no Baedeker, and in chapter one Charlotte finds a large question mark in what was George Emmerson's room scrawled on a sheet or something, and in the movie version he spells out a '?' in pasta on his plate and shows it to Helena Bonham Carter's Lucy.
That quote is one of my favourite quotes, if not my favourite, from that book. It's just the loveliest way you could put it, put everything, into perspective. And it's also how I've always thought, or tried to think- existence is just a chain of doubt and questions that sometimes never get answered, but only by existing can you answer them.
It's really strange that I had that idea in a dream, but now I'm really considering it- why not?
I love tattoos and watching tattoo shows like LA ink and London ink (LA ink is so much better, I have a girl crush on Kat Von D) makes me want to have insane amounts of tattoos. But I want them all to be really well made and have some sort of meaning so that I don't get to the age of 80 thinking Shit, what have I done? although, by then it would be too late, and all that emotion would kill me, so it all works out!
It is presently nearly midnight in this side of the world, and I'm getting a tad sleepy, although my tenacity prevails, as I am still radiating with joy for getting back my wireless connection, fucking great this is, writing bullshit has never been so much fun and comfortable at the same time!
Oh, and I have listened to the new GNR album a couple of times now, and although I find it disappointing that they haven't maintained their original line-up, Axl Rose does have some fucking amazing set of pipes, and the songs are fucking good, different, but good. My favourite is Better, it was love at first sight only you can't SEE songs, you hear them, but HEY, I'm sleepy and still recovering from a cold! I shall report on the subject of Axl Rose and Chinese Democracy later this week, for no one to read! WAHEY!
If you read this, I fucking love you, and will have your babies! :D
![axl rose and slash =] Pictures, Images and Photos](http://i67.photobucket.com/albums/h298/grahamkid/axlandslashlol.png)
In fact, I hereby declare, that as of today, I, the writer of this shitty blog entitled Wind Up Citrus, will better herself in every way possible in order to achieve enlightenment (more like, will study like a crazy motherfucker on redbull and ritalin in order to get four A's). Ofcourse, if I were to be really ambitious I would add a diet to the plans of self improvement, but it's been tried A LOT, and I have the will power of a serial killer, and am sort of getting used to being chubby, after 13 years of wanting to lose weight but not really succeeding. OK, fuck it, why not go down a dress size AND get 4 A's, both unlikely, but both possible within reason! I'll bloody commit to this crap this time (I hope)!
On the topic of commitment, I had a crazy arse dream the other night about getting a tattoo of a question mark on my wrist. And in the dream I said I had done it because of this quote from Room with a View (which we're studying right now for English)
At the side of the everlasting Why, there is a yes! And a yes! And a yes!
Mr Emmerson says that in the second Chapter: In Santa Croce with no Baedeker, and in chapter one Charlotte finds a large question mark in what was George Emmerson's room scrawled on a sheet or something, and in the movie version he spells out a '?' in pasta on his plate and shows it to Helena Bonham Carter's Lucy.
That quote is one of my favourite quotes, if not my favourite, from that book. It's just the loveliest way you could put it, put everything, into perspective. And it's also how I've always thought, or tried to think- existence is just a chain of doubt and questions that sometimes never get answered, but only by existing can you answer them.
It's really strange that I had that idea in a dream, but now I'm really considering it- why not?
I love tattoos and watching tattoo shows like LA ink and London ink (LA ink is so much better, I have a girl crush on Kat Von D) makes me want to have insane amounts of tattoos. But I want them all to be really well made and have some sort of meaning so that I don't get to the age of 80 thinking Shit, what have I done? although, by then it would be too late, and all that emotion would kill me, so it all works out!
It is presently nearly midnight in this side of the world, and I'm getting a tad sleepy, although my tenacity prevails, as I am still radiating with joy for getting back my wireless connection, fucking great this is, writing bullshit has never been so much fun and comfortable at the same time!
Oh, and I have listened to the new GNR album a couple of times now, and although I find it disappointing that they haven't maintained their original line-up, Axl Rose does have some fucking amazing set of pipes, and the songs are fucking good, different, but good. My favourite is Better, it was love at first sight only you can't SEE songs, you hear them, but HEY, I'm sleepy and still recovering from a cold! I shall report on the subject of Axl Rose and Chinese Democracy later this week, for no one to read! WAHEY!
If you read this, I fucking love you, and will have your babies! :D
(I wish it was the 80's right now, because it would have been acceptable for me to find Axl Rose bloody hot)
Friday, 21 November 2008
Quelqu'un Comme Toi et Autres Choses
So, I'm stuck here again, procrastinating, or trying to, this time I've got Use Somebody by Kings of Leon on repeat. The great thing about music is that you can find something for whatever mood you're in, no matter how bizarre or banal, there's always a song to go with your thoughts.
There's nothing better than having friends, and I love all of mine. Every time I get into a shitty mood for whatever reason, or feel like a really stupid asshole, I think about my friends, and just that thought can make me happier.
But recently I've become so tired and worried and that's when the self-doubt that is usually there in the background pops up and holds on, and you try to smile it away, laugh louder and it'll just go, drink a bit more and you'll forget it, but it's still there. You can paint it however you want to, but it doesn't change a thing, they're still your worst fears painted in a fucking rainbow.
I don't have any problems per se, it's just that I've been realising a whole lot of shit recently, and it has all come in one huge wave and now I can't continue lying to myself. It's like my conscious and my sub-conscious had a little chat and now seem to know everything about one another. We all have different levels of consciousness for a reason, and trust me, it's better that way. It's like having two friends- one is like an acquaintance who you chat with on the way to work, maybe share a few jokes, been to the cinema together once, the other is someone who you've known for years, who knows all your secrets and flaws. Then the two meet somehow and decide to have an extensive talk about you, and all of a sudden the acquaintance knows your middle name and what kind of music you were into back in the 90's.
It's all very nice knowing what you want, but when you know it's virtually impossible to get it, you'd rather stay in the blissful shade of ignorance, trying to find out the answers. I'm still finding the answers, only not as many.
Feeling like this wouldn't be half as bad if I wasn't such an asshole to the people that really matter, the few that don't seem to mind me as much, the ones I really couldn't get by without. If I really like someone, they will rarely piss me off, rather I get pissed off at myself most of the times for being asshole. I seem to accept other people's fuckery much better than my own. Unless they're the other 99% of people I know who are pompous idiots, then I'll be killing them with my eyes.
What can I say, I'm an imbecile.
I've been reading Stephen King's Duma Key, bloody long book, weighs as much as a brick, which doesn't do any good to the 100 tonnes of school stuff I have to carry around on the tube. So far it's good, not the best thing I've read ever, but I wanted to read some Stephen King, and I think I should have read Carrie first or something. The reviews are all really good, and they all mention how haunting the story is. Either it's too early in the book, or I'm too insensitive to even be haunted by anything. In fact, the last time I was remotely haunted by a piece of literature was when reading Edgar Allan Poe at night. Now THAT is fucking scary.
I am presently falling asleep on the keyboard. So I take that as a sign to move on and get me some food.
xoxoxo (I wish I was Gossip Girl)
There's nothing better than having friends, and I love all of mine. Every time I get into a shitty mood for whatever reason, or feel like a really stupid asshole, I think about my friends, and just that thought can make me happier.
But recently I've become so tired and worried and that's when the self-doubt that is usually there in the background pops up and holds on, and you try to smile it away, laugh louder and it'll just go, drink a bit more and you'll forget it, but it's still there. You can paint it however you want to, but it doesn't change a thing, they're still your worst fears painted in a fucking rainbow.
I don't have any problems per se, it's just that I've been realising a whole lot of shit recently, and it has all come in one huge wave and now I can't continue lying to myself. It's like my conscious and my sub-conscious had a little chat and now seem to know everything about one another. We all have different levels of consciousness for a reason, and trust me, it's better that way. It's like having two friends- one is like an acquaintance who you chat with on the way to work, maybe share a few jokes, been to the cinema together once, the other is someone who you've known for years, who knows all your secrets and flaws. Then the two meet somehow and decide to have an extensive talk about you, and all of a sudden the acquaintance knows your middle name and what kind of music you were into back in the 90's.
It's all very nice knowing what you want, but when you know it's virtually impossible to get it, you'd rather stay in the blissful shade of ignorance, trying to find out the answers. I'm still finding the answers, only not as many.
Feeling like this wouldn't be half as bad if I wasn't such an asshole to the people that really matter, the few that don't seem to mind me as much, the ones I really couldn't get by without. If I really like someone, they will rarely piss me off, rather I get pissed off at myself most of the times for being asshole. I seem to accept other people's fuckery much better than my own. Unless they're the other 99% of people I know who are pompous idiots, then I'll be killing them with my eyes.
What can I say, I'm an imbecile.
I've been reading Stephen King's Duma Key, bloody long book, weighs as much as a brick, which doesn't do any good to the 100 tonnes of school stuff I have to carry around on the tube. So far it's good, not the best thing I've read ever, but I wanted to read some Stephen King, and I think I should have read Carrie first or something. The reviews are all really good, and they all mention how haunting the story is. Either it's too early in the book, or I'm too insensitive to even be haunted by anything. In fact, the last time I was remotely haunted by a piece of literature was when reading Edgar Allan Poe at night. Now THAT is fucking scary.
I am presently falling asleep on the keyboard. So I take that as a sign to move on and get me some food.
xoxoxo (I wish I was Gossip Girl)
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Procrastination for the Nation!
It's great what you can do to avoid doing what you have to do!
I have devised a list:
I have devised a list:
- Watching TV is the obvious one, so is reading a book, listening to music, posting a blog, playing stupid games on your computer or going on bored.com
- Painting your nails. If you really want to waste some time, try making tiny drawings on them with the nail varnish, or even learn esperanto and write out a secret message in your nails. (this is even more fun if you're a straight guy)
- Learn the lyrics to Jesus of Suburbia, it'll take you a whole week!
- Get as many books from the library as possible, and underline words in invisible ink (the kind that shows up under UV light) so that it makes out a weird message like "You are the chosen one, you must save the people of Crandacar, the small people will have the answer to your chair" . Only use classics, the older the better.
- If you own a make up bag, or any kind of bag with lots of things inside, take them all out, clean them, even if they're already clean, lay everything out in alphabetical order, and put it all back into the bag in that order.
- Raid your parents wardrobe and try everything out, put on some music and pretend you're in Uruguay's Next Top Model.
- Research everything you like on Wikipedia, read all the related articles. My favourite is going through lists of Metal bands and going on their myspace pages to listen to their music.
- Go on imdb.com and look up all the films you like, all the directors, and actors and read their bios (especially the cute ones)
- Write reviews for your favourite books on different sites.
- YOUTUBE! the neverending source of visual pleasure, where you will find ANYTHING you want- from the sublime to the mind-raping. Don't forget to leave lovely comments!
- Find swear words in various languages, Japanese is really cool, and Latin makes you sound very cerebral.
- My friend taught me this one: Look for people on Myspace/Facebook with the same names as fictional characters from Soap Operas, Films, Books, and so on.
- Read my blog :)
I've been avoiding essays and coursework today, suppressing the feeling of guilt with a large amount of denial, Freud would love me! Regina Spektor has been helping me keep in denial, I'm starting to really love her since listening to this song from my friends mobile when we were all really drunk and nearly passed out. Alcohol is BAD, kids!
Friday, 14 November 2008
Blogs and Vampires and other such things.
How lovely! Another blog that nobody reads! HA! However, I will be tenacious and keep on with this one, hopefully. Being new to the world of the Blog, do not be alarmed if I have added you or whatever you do in order to get people to read this crap, it just means I liked your blog so, really, you should be flattered. I like writing about the things I like, funnily enough, and I like knowing what other people think about the things I like. All in all, expect a lot of bull from this space, and a few short stories (yes, I'm that type), and if not that, a lot of angry ranting!
Everybody who hasn't been living under a rock for the past couple of years has heard of the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer. I did too, about two years ago, and have been turning my nose up to it since then, resisting the sickly sweet romantic plot of hot vampires and accidental heroines (think Northanger Abbey's Catherine Morland in an episode of Buffy) that seems to have been written for the sole purpose of making teenage girls swoon. Oh, but I was tempted, temptation being the only thing I cannot resist, and swoon I did.
With a plot that relies solely on characterisation, specifically how ethereally beautiful but tormented Edward Cullen is, being the hot vampire next door who drives a shiny Volvo, it takes a good while for Twilight to kick in with the action which, although pretty good, is a bit too scarce, tailing off into some more romantic fluff involving self-perceived 'plain Jane' Isabella and her vampire lover (did I mention that he is really really hot?). Bella's obsession with Edward's attractiveness (a bit of an understatement there), borders on obsessive, and sometimes cringe worthy, although it does provide female readers with a pretty excellent vampire pin-up to drool after.
The plot may be whimsical and long winded, characterisation may rely a little too much upon adjectival description, and sometimes you may wonder why Edward (who, by the way, is perfection incarnate) takes so much interest in Bella, who as the narrator doesn't understand this herself. HOWEVER, in the end, it is a gripping read, despite all the reported speech followed by adjectives and adverbs which almost sound like stage directions, it is a bloody awesome book. The characters are easy to empathise with, the plot manages to flow despite being slow, and most importantly, the readers are made to give a crap about the characters, even if it is all a little too superficial, it is fun.
Needless to say, I cannot wait until the release of the Twilight film, it's great material to work into a movie, hopefully they haven't fucked it up. Of course, I will NEVER admit to having a crush on Edward Cullen, and thinking that Robert Pattinson makes a great veggie vampire.
Everybody who hasn't been living under a rock for the past couple of years has heard of the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer. I did too, about two years ago, and have been turning my nose up to it since then, resisting the sickly sweet romantic plot of hot vampires and accidental heroines (think Northanger Abbey's Catherine Morland in an episode of Buffy) that seems to have been written for the sole purpose of making teenage girls swoon. Oh, but I was tempted, temptation being the only thing I cannot resist, and swoon I did.
With a plot that relies solely on characterisation, specifically how ethereally beautiful but tormented Edward Cullen is, being the hot vampire next door who drives a shiny Volvo, it takes a good while for Twilight to kick in with the action which, although pretty good, is a bit too scarce, tailing off into some more romantic fluff involving self-perceived 'plain Jane' Isabella and her vampire lover (did I mention that he is really really hot?). Bella's obsession with Edward's attractiveness (a bit of an understatement there), borders on obsessive, and sometimes cringe worthy, although it does provide female readers with a pretty excellent vampire pin-up to drool after.
The plot may be whimsical and long winded, characterisation may rely a little too much upon adjectival description, and sometimes you may wonder why Edward (who, by the way, is perfection incarnate) takes so much interest in Bella, who as the narrator doesn't understand this herself. HOWEVER, in the end, it is a gripping read, despite all the reported speech followed by adjectives and adverbs which almost sound like stage directions, it is a bloody awesome book. The characters are easy to empathise with, the plot manages to flow despite being slow, and most importantly, the readers are made to give a crap about the characters, even if it is all a little too superficial, it is fun.
Needless to say, I cannot wait until the release of the Twilight film, it's great material to work into a movie, hopefully they haven't fucked it up. Of course, I will NEVER admit to having a crush on Edward Cullen, and thinking that Robert Pattinson makes a great veggie vampire.
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