i'm back in texas, folks. i thought it might miss me, so i brought it on home. don't be jealous! ugh i knew it; you're jealous. again. sigh.
on the plane ride here, i read half of this book. as you can see, it's about a girl falling in love with a vampire. while on the plane i didn't question this premise: yup, yup! fangs, love, blood, high school. it all made perfect sense, 30,000 feet above ground. then clay picked me up at the airport, we enjoyed some dinner out, returned to the hotel, watched a documentary about cochlear implants (better or worse than the men's hula documentary we spent two hours watching last week?), and then, come bedtime i started reading again.
and i'm all - in love with a vampire?! what?! i go away for a few hours and i'm suddenly, and possibly irrevocably, annoyed by this book. don't get-a me wrong, i'm still reading it like crack, but sentences like:
"he was a different edward than the one i had known. and i felt all the more besotted by him. it would cause me physical pain to be separated from him now."
make me shudder in protest. i'm pretty sure a victorian girl wrote that in her diary about her first cousin. not a chick from arizona in lust with a creepy vampire stud. but who am i to judge love? i'm in texas right now. voluntarily.