We can't all have our very own Edward Cullen.

So last night I went to see Twilight...of course being me I saw it after dark and decided to walk home -alone- afterwards. The dark doesn't scare me because I believe the light is just as dangerous. Whatever. I was already wrapped up in my thoughts as I (over)analyzed the movie on my way home. I managed to get what I have never achieved before. I was seriously hit on by a woman. That is not, by any means, what bothered me about my walk home. In fact it was a self-esteem boost if anything. What has me irked to the point that I decided to discuss this in a blog is the loser that tried, persistently, to pick me up as a prostitute. It is annoying because if anything I looked like was a space cadet because I was trying to walk down the center of the road while stopping every couple of yards to stare up at the few stars that you can see in the city. I'd like to believe that the "Come Screw me" sign that seems to be in neon green over my head was left at home that night. Apparently I was wrong. Before the movie, on my wait out of Barnes and Noble I guy asked for my number. Walking home a chick tries to pick me up and I end the it all with offer to "make a little extra" extended to me.

The biggest issue that I have with this incident is that it is reocurring. This is not the first time that a person has tried to pick me up as a prostitute. Granted that the first time it happened I owned up to the fact that I placed myself in that situation by walking outside alone after 1am. Especially since I am already know my knack for attracting creeps. The ones who don't want to take me to a movie, just a hotel room. Who don't want to get to know me, just my bedroom. The whole thing gets old after a while. I no longer trust any man that tries to even half way sweet-talk me. As far as I'm concerned the ones bold enough to approach me aren't the ones that I want. This is where my own personal catch-22 comes into play.
---I can't trust the ones who approach me. I've been rejected before and therefore won't approach the ones I want.

Whatever, I'm moving on. I'm not analyzing the stupidity of y-chromosomes that choose to approach me.

I feel like the wind was knocked out of me, and I'm just a third party observer

I have found one of my favorite quotes. I can't exactly say why. It is a quote that explains how a woman literally is consumed with the agony of being alone. Being alone after she thought she had found her forever. It is unequivocally depressing. I know that. That is one of the reasons why I can't get enough of it. It's not just that quote. The way that the writer, Meyer, set that up. She led the reader to it. I was like a bird following bread crumbs. The gist of it is here, keep in mind that my summary does the passage no justice at all.


--She collapses, sinnking into the waters of her pain. States that she never resurfaces. Then, by using four pages, Meyer shows the numb passing of four months and opens the next chapter with this quote:


"Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me" (Meyer 93).




Brilliant. I read that the first time and got chills. Read it the second time and even when I knew it was coming I still had to pause to reflect on it. I'm thinking about how agony in a book is just so much more potent then any movie. Sure a great actor can portray it, but that could take weeks of shooting and at least ten minutes on the screen to only grasp a percentage of it. A writer, however, can dish it up in five sentences and I love it.
It is just so raw.