My vampire boyfriend dumped me because of Sweet Valley High.

Long ago and far away, I worked at a bookstore.  It was there where I met the man who is now my husband.  But this isn't a story about that.

This is a story about a guy I'm going to call Edward, even though his name isn't Edward in real life.  Those of you who have ever heard of TWILIGHT might see some parallels.  Or not.  I mean, my guy wasn't actually a vampire --except in the metaphorical Joss Whedon sense.

So, Edward.  I met him my first night on the job.  One of my coworkers was showing me around.  He took me over to Edward, the stockroom manager, and introduced us.  I said, "Hi!" 

Edward muttered, "Hi." 

The guy who was showing me around laughed and said, "Don't feel bad.  Edward just doesn't like new people." 

Edward said, "You're right.  I hate 'em!"

I kept my distance from him for months.  Because he hated me, right?  I'd never done anything to him, but he hated me!  Good thing his shift always ended right as mine was starting.  But then, he was switched to my shift.   Talk about stressful.  Ugh.  Somehow, someway, I came to realize that whole hating-new-people conversation hadn't been about me at all, but about Edward's annoyance at the guy who'd done the introducing.  We started talking.  We became friends.  Then, as time went on, somehow, someway, I decided I was in desperately in love with him. 

He was a "bad" guy.  A promiscuous, drug using klepto.  But those things didn't matter.  I loved him because he was so beautiful, so amazing, so perfect.  I mean, he was a guitarist in, like, a grunge-type band, but he read lots of books and was smart when he wasn't too stoned.  And he'd buy me french fries and I'd eat them even though I didn't like french fries!  And he'd steal gifts for me sometimes and let me take breaks whenever I wanted.  It was obvious that we belonged together.  Why didn't he just hurry up and love me back????

And then, after two years of waiting (and never having told him how I felt), he totally wanted to be my boyfriend!  I then admitted that after I'd stopped thinking that he hated me, he'd been the only one I'd wanted.  That I wanted to be with him more than I'd ever wanted anything.  He was The One For Me.  He was a little blown away at the intensity of my feelings at first.  In a good way, though.   I think he felt like kind of a loser after his previous girlfriend left him, so this was a very welcome change. 

Our epic love affair was good.  Great, even.  Crazy-intense and wonderful in every way. 

Until three weeks later when it wasn't.  Edward's daily marijuana habit didn't bother me.  But the cocaine kind of did.  Especially when he decided he wanted me use it with him.  I can't say I wasn't curious, that I didn't maybe a little tiny bit want to try it.  I couldn't, though.  You see, at age thirteen, I'd read a SWEET VALLEY HIGH book where a girl named Regina died after snorting two lines of coke. 

So, I told him "no."  Repeatedly.  Meanwhile, he was high and crying and pleading and telling me he loved me and he was scared that I was going to leave him.   If I snorted the coke, he'd know I really loved him like I claimed.  (I am not making this up!  Yes, truth is more ridiculous than fiction.)  I said if he really loved me, he wouldn't try to pressure me into doing something I kept saying I didn't want to do.  Neither of us would bend on this.

And that's when it was over.  I wasn't willing to die Regina Morrow style for him and I was furious that he'd expected me to.  And he felt betrayed because I'd told him I'd been so in love with him for so long, but I wouldn't do this small thing to prove it.

Maybe that's why the Edward in TWILIGHT isn't all that for me.  I mean, I never read on in the series, and I highly doubt there's a scene where Edward begs Bella to do coke with him to prove her love.  But from what I did see in the first book, there were similarities in the relationship.  Especially the way Bella was so enamoured with Edward and thought he was so beautiful, amazing, perfect, etc. 

I actually got the chance to be with my "beautiful, amazing, perfect" guy, once upon a time for those three weeks.  I don't regret any of it, but I would never want to experience it again.  Not in real life and not vicariously through Bella Swan/Stephenie Meyer.

My first and second loves.

My husband and I had friends over for dinner on Saturday.  One of the topics that came up was TWILIGHT the movie which segued into TWILIGHT the book which segued into teenage love and "love" which reminded me of the devotion I used to have for Christian Slater.

I don't know how it started exactly.  His role as Will Scarlet in ROBIN HOOD: PRINCE OF THIEVES, I think.  All I know is that when I was thirteen, I decided I was in love with him.  Every entry in my journal during that time mentioned him.  I wrote about how I was going to marry him someday.  How excited I was that he was on the cover of SEVENTEEN magazine.  How we had some of the same nervous habits.  How our astrological signs were compatible.  And on and on and on.

I had never had a boyfriend.  I'd wanted one just about forever, but the only boys who ever wanted to go out with me (as we called it) were the ones who I, you know, hung out with all the time.  They were my geeky friend-boys with whom I'd go skiing and discuss my addictions to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Super Mario Bros.  I didn't think those boys weren't even close to dreamy enough to be boyfriend material.   And the boys I did have crushes on thought I was too weird/uncool/ugly/I don't know I'm just guessing this part to like me like that.

Just before turning fourteen, I started ninth grade at (yet another) new school.  A girl named Leslie became my best friend a few days into the school year because she passed me a note in Biology saying I was so cute, she loved my outfit, and that she wanted to hang out with me at lunch.  At some point early in our friendship, I confessed my love for Christian Slater to her.  (Eventually, it became common knowledge.  There was no good reason to keep my love a secret, right?  Seriously.)   I told her about how, yeah, my Christian was cute and all, but the real reason I loved him was because I respected him so much as an actor.  I wanted to act, too.  I was going to star in all kinds of movies and then one day my Christian and I would be cast in a movie together and he would immediately love me as much as I loved him.  Oh, yes.

To her credit, Leslie didn't give me a bunch of crap over it.  She had crushes on boys we actually knew and went to school with, but she always would write notes and draw pictures in her PeeChees that said:  Leslie [heart] Brian/Shawn/whomever.  Mindi [heart] Christian.  As if she felt the love I had for my guy was totally legitimate, too.  (In hindsight, I suspect that she probably liked my crush being so unattainable; we were never in competition for boys.)

January 23, 1992, everything started to change--even though I had no idea at the time.  I wrote in my journal that day:  Leslie told me that Chris told her that he likes me.  I really don't know about that.  Even if he does, I can assure you that it won't last long.

Over the next several months, the content of my journal entries shifted.  Instead of lots about Christian Slater and casual mentions of this Chris kid (who was a "Christopher" not a "Christian"), it got to the point where I would sometimes forget to mention Christian Slater at all!  Leslie pointed out that I never talked about my future husband anymore and I said, "I guess I can't like two guys at the same time.  I think I like Chris now."

And then I proved it:  when I dissected a frog in Biology, I gave Chris the frog's eyes. He was so in awe of my cool gift that he carried those eyes around with him in a little plastic baggie.  He said he'd keep them forever.  Around that time, Leslie went behind my back and told Chris the huge news that I totally liked him back and that I was giving up Christian Slater for him!  Chris didn't think I was crazy at all for having once loved an actor I'd never met who was eight years older than me.  Instead, he said he felt special to be The One. 

Chris broke up with me one month after we officially became a couple, and decided three months after that that he'd made a mistake.  We spent the next four years off and on--even after I'd graduated--trying to decide whether to get back together.  It never happened. 

And you know what else never happened?  My love affair with Christian Slater!  After having had a real boyfriend, he never had the same appeal again. 

(Although, I have to say, if he ever joined a band and played in the Seattle area, I would go see him.  Not for me, but for the fourteen-year-old  me who would have loved to have had that chance.)

What I'm up to.

I fell down at my bus stop today.  I don't know how it happened.  I think I tripped over my wheely bag thing filled with work stuff that I have to drag downtown every week.  That's my best guess. 

But, yeah, I fell in front of dozens of strangers.  I ruined my favorite pants and bled from the knee.  The rest of the day didn't improve much.  How could it when every time I glanced down I could see the rip in my favorite pants?  How could it when every time I took a step I could feel the pain? 

And then I went to Safeway where they didn't have cherries!  Which I needed for the pie I'm making for my sister's birthday this weekend!  So, I had to go to Top Foods to get them!  Ack!

Anyway, other than the pants and cherry dramas of today, things have been going well enough.  Well, unless you want to include the dining room chair drama of two days ago.  Which... I don't.  So, let's not.

I'm very glad I'm taking a break from writing fiction right now.  I'm not getting nearly the amount of reading time in that I'd hoped (isn't that always the way?) because I'm so busy with the cleaning, shopping, organizing, and baking.  So far, I've seriously been putting in as much time doing those things as I did into writing (or... attempting to write) at my desk.  Which means I'm tired and losing weight from all the movement of my body happening.   I need to continually remind myself to eat more and drink water. 

So, that's what I'm up to.  I've been coming up with ideas for Kae's story.  Things that will make my hook a little more enticing.  Things that I will be excited to write.  I'm still nowhere near certain which of these vague ideas I want to incorporate, but maybe by January 6th (which will likely to be the day I'll come back to writing), I'll have something good and exciting.

Goodreads

Apparently, I signed up for Goodreads at some point in my life because when I went to the site and logged in with one of my email addresses and one of my passwords, it worked.  I entered in a few books I've read.  What an amazing time-suck this will be!  Anyway, if anyone wants to be Goodreads friends (or whatever they call contacts there), I'm cailet25 at hotmail dot com.

One thing that strikes me so far is the rating system for books:  1. didn't like it.  2. it was okay.  3.  liked it.  4. really liked it.  5.  it was amazing.

It's skewed from how I usually rate things.  I generally think of a 1-5 ranking as a letter grade system like in school.  1=F, 2=D, 3=C, 4=B, 5=A.

So, something I would have given a D or an F would both get graded as a 1 on Goodreads.  C=2.  B=3.  A=4.  A+= 5.

Which means I use a lot of 3s & 4s, and am pretty stingy with the 5s.  I wonder if anyone else finds this to be true of how they do their ratings, too?

Detoxing.

I'm going to take a break from writing for the rest of the year.  I'm not trying to be, like, dramatic.  It's just something I need to do.  Nothing good is going on at the moment, so I want to chill out and see how I feel in aught-nine. 

In the meantime, I plan to make a To-Do list and spend any time during the month of December when I would have been writing, completing the things on the list.  I don't mean a list of life-changing things like in the manuscript I've been working on.  I mean, cleaning the carpet, decluttering the attic and my office, and yard work.  Stuff like that.  I want to get my house in good shape.  (Ha!)  I'll do some more baking, too.  And I'll go through my cookbooks to find new recipes.

In addition, I'll try to cut down way down on my computer/internet time.  I've committed to doing some critiques over the next week, so I'll make good on those.  And then, no more until January. 

I want to rent some movies.  Musicals of all kinds!  (They're my latest obsession after watching MAMMA MIA and ACROSS THE UNIVERSE during the past week.  All my dreams lately have included spontaneously singing and dancing.  Musicals = Mindi happy.)  I want to watch other types of movies, too.  What else?  I don't know!     

And I'll read.  Books.  Every day.  A book a day.  Or maybe a book every two days.  Or none at all when I don't feel like reading!  Whatever.  No pressure.  I think I'll just take this time to step away from YA and remind myself what else is out there.  (Although I do have one or two YAs on my shelf that I've been meaning to read for months.  I might start with them.) 

I really want to read some adult fiction and see if I can still stand it.  It's been so long.  Can you believe there used to be a time when I read John Grisham and Rosamunde Pilcher and Amy Tan?  Me neither. 

Maybe I should read some biographies.  I have a Jim Morrison one that's been sitting around here for three years.  How about an adult novel by Sherman Alexie? Hmm.  What else?  I'm putting together a library hold list right now.  Recommendations would be swell!  Tell me something good by Steinbeck.  And what's that really dirty book?  THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP?  Yes?  No?  Should I read it?  Or some Kurt Vonnegut?  What else?