October 16: Bed Time Story

This is sort of embarrassing. This is the type of thing people aren't supposed to go around sharing. Check that. If I were a teenage girl, it would be very cool to talk about. It would be hip and cool. Unfortunately, I am not a teenage girl. I'm a grown man capable of growing a thick beard. It's sort of embarrassing. I think I'll write a public blog about it.

Since finishing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Year 7) over a week and a half ago, I pace around my sister's room every night before I crawl into bed and lie with my eyes open until sleep pulls the blanket over me. I've been partaking in the nightly ritual because I'm not within the comforts of my own home. Each night, I'll open my sister's closet and stare blankly at her collection of books. My eyes scan over the Shakespeares and Steinbecks of Advanced Placement classes. My hand reaches for a classic that I was never required to read in school. A classic that slipped through the cracks of my education. A classic that now has notes scrawled in my sister's hand on every page; pure distraction for an innocent reader.

After a few nights of pacing, I had my mom get my high school yearbook from the attic. Lying in a bed with a hardcover book containing the memories of over 3,500 students propped open isn't exactly "easy on the back," but I got through it. It actually only took me two nights because of the pathetic amount of comments by an alarmingly low amount of friends. I was back to pacing.

Each night I pulled that sliding, mirrored closet door open, one particular set of books made their presence known. It was a group of black paperbacks that were neatly placed in front of the Harry Potter series. My sister had run out of room on the shelf, so she was forced to start lining up a second row of books; quite the novel idea, don't you think? I had no intention of starting the series. I saw fifteen minutes of the adaptation of the third novel and I hated it. Why would I want to read the entire series? I didn't just have hours on end to sit and read something because it was popular. Wait. I did. I do. I have more time than I know what to do with.

The reading is garbage. It's written at a sixth grade level; and that's being generous. To give you some idea of what level the writing is on, go to www.365DaysofBrandon.blogspot.com and read the elementary vocabulary and lack of creativity. Although, maybe that's the way it's supposed to read. After all, it's told from the perspective of a seventeen-year-old high school girl. Genius. What do I know?

I'm only a hundred pages in, but what is up with that Edward Cullen guy? He's just so smug, yet charming. What's up with those snide remarks of his and his inconsistent attitude toward my new friend, Bella? He's smug and then he's angry and tense. Who does he think he is? What's so funny about being approached by three guys in one day in hopes of being asked to the Girl's Choice Dance?

Yeah, I'm talking about Twilight. Big deal! It may be a bit embarrassing for a grown man to be reading such trash, but it puts me to sleep. It's good to keep in tune with what the kids today are reading and talking about. I'm just a cool guy. Now I can talk to teenage girls and be a welcomed addition to their circle of friends which is more than I had when I was in high school. Maybe I can get a few more people to sign my pageant...