This morning I received a message from a friend whose children are in the same baseball league as my own. She was asking for ideas about healthy snacks for after the games, as her team assigns one parent each week to bring a snack and she has been disappointed with the offerings thus far. I gave her some suggestions based on what my own kids eat, though mentioned that I wouldn't even bother with snacks except for the fact that AlmondBoy's metabolism is such that he has got to eat about every hour or so or ends up feeling very sick.
I've been thinking a lot about snacks lately. Whenever I am out with my kids for extended periods or when we are going some place where we'll engage in lots of physical activity, I bring healthy snacks and water. But it seems to me as though the snacking habit has really gotten out of hand, culturally speaking. I feel like a snack should be a small, healthyish something to tide over an empty stomach until mealtime. Not a pacifier. Not a bribe. But all too often I see bored children placated with empty calories to keep them quiet and, as someone who fought an uphill battle towards healthy eating, it worries me to think about what kind of eating habits these children are learning. And I feel pretty strongly that Munchkins or "fruit" gummies are not what growing bodies need after 1.5 hours of t-ball practice.
My kids don't get to eat in my car because cars are for traveling. They are not mobile cafeterias. We do not eat in front of the television. There are no Dunkaroos or Fruit Rollups in our house. And I don't say this to brag in some kind of mommier-than-thou competitive way. It's frequently a pain in the ass to be That Mom. People think you're weird or judgmental or Amish. There are times I honestly wish I didn't give a crap about corn syrup and partially hydrogenated oils and food dyes and corn agribusiness and the two dozen other things that give me the occasional headache at the grocery store. But the fact is that these things matter to me. Weight, health, and nutrition matter to me. I'm hoping to spare my own children many of the issues I have faced by not instilling bad habits which they'll have to learn to break on their own. I'm hoping to spare them the dubious distinction of membership in the growing childhood obesity problem in this country.
I love food. In particular, I love beautiful, delicious food. I try to prepare myself three meals a day and then I sit down to eat and enjoy them. I find that I am more mindful of my eating this way, that I enjoy what I put in my mouth. That respecting my food equates to respecting my body. I am trying to pass this on to my children, this idea that eating should be both for sustenance and pleasure, but not just for something to do. By constant snacking - especially snacking on empty calories - food becomes part of the background noise. It becomes an expectation. We eat when we are bored or lonely or happy or sad. We eat for something to do, and often it's when we're already being entertained. (I'm looking at you, movie theaters.) And as more of us have our butts parked in front of the computer (hi!) or the 4,382 channels on the TV or the Wii or let the kids play with [current trendy electronic device], we're doing less and less to burn those snacks off. By constant eating we take our bodies out of their natural rhythms. We don't learn what it means to feel hungry and instead, we eat right through those hunger cues. And by not knowing what hunger feels like, it becomes very difficult to learn what satiation feels like. There is no "clean plate" rule in our house for that very reason. In addition, many people also think they are feeling hunger when they are, in fact, thirsty.
I don't think snacking is completely evil by any measure. I always have a high-protein something after the gym or I don't feel very well. But I do think that getting children established in a routine where all outings and activities include something to munch isn't a great idea. And as I said, my son has to eat constantly or he loses weight so I certainly know that there are kids who really are hungry all the time. But I do suggest that we all try to be more mindful of what we're putting in our kids' bodies and in our own bodies, particularly between meals. I try to pack healthy, filling calories like full-fat cheeses, cashews, fresh fruit or vegetables, boiled eggs, etc. And I urge everyone to take a look at this article.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
In Which There Is Stuffed Cabbage
I love stuffed cabbage. It's a great all in one dish and has lots of wonderful flavors and textures going on. It also always makes me think of my grandmother, because it is a specialty of hers. However, my grandmother makes a sweet version and the members of the Marzipan household prefer a tangy one. It's a little time consuming, but not at all bad if you break it down into steps. The rice, sauce, and cabbage can be prepared the day before. I like to make extra rice to serve on the side because the sauce is so delicious.
Stuffed Cabbage
1 Savoy cabbage, leaves stripped off
1 pound ground turkey
1 pound very lean ground beef
1 1/2 cups cooked brown rice
1/3 cup plain nonfat Greek yogurt or sour cream
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
1 red onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 teaspoons paprika
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Tangy Tomato Sauce
a 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes (preferably Italian flavored)
1 cup chicken broth
3 bay leaves
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
***
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.
Add the cabbage leaves and cook, until tender, about 4 minutes. Drain the leaves into a colander in the sink and run under cold running water. Set aside.
In a large bowl (I use my Kitchen Aid with the paddle attachment) place the meat, rice, yogurt/sour cream, pepper, and 2 teaspoons salt and mix together very well.
Heat the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook, stirring, about 7 minutes. Stir in the paprika and allspice and cook, stirring, about 2 minutes more. Add the onion mixture to the beef mixture and mix until well combined. Season with pepper to taste.
Stuffed Cabbage
1 Savoy cabbage, leaves stripped off
1 pound ground turkey
1 pound very lean ground beef
1 1/2 cups cooked brown rice
1/3 cup plain nonfat Greek yogurt or sour cream
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
1 red onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 teaspoons paprika
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Tangy Tomato Sauce
a 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes (preferably Italian flavored)
1 cup chicken broth
3 bay leaves
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
***
Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.
Add the cabbage leaves and cook, until tender, about 4 minutes. Drain the leaves into a colander in the sink and run under cold running water. Set aside.
In a large bowl (I use my Kitchen Aid with the paddle attachment) place the meat, rice, yogurt/sour cream, pepper, and 2 teaspoons salt and mix together very well.
Heat the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook, stirring, about 7 minutes. Stir in the paprika and allspice and cook, stirring, about 2 minutes more. Add the onion mixture to the beef mixture and mix until well combined. Season with pepper to taste.
Lay the cabbage leaves on a work surface and blot dry with paper towels. Now take a look at the back side of your leaves. See that thick ridge at the base of the leaf? Trim it nice and flat with a very sharp knife. This way your leaves will lay flat on your work surface and not split. Just make sure you trim the ridge, not slice a hole in the leaf.
Starting with the largest leaves, place about 1/2 cup of the beef mixture in the bottom center of each leaf. (You should have enough for 10 very generously filled rolls.) Roll the bottom of the leaf over the beef mixture, fold in the sides, and continue rolling forward until completely closed. Repeat with the remaining leaves. If you need, you can make little patches with smaller leaves if the big ones tear.
Arrange the rolls seam side-down in a 9-x 13- x 2- inch baking dish.
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.
In a medium saucepan, combine the tomatoes, broth, and bay leaves. Bring to a boil and season with pepper to taste. Fish out the bay leaves, then pour over the cabbage rolls and cover the baking dish tightly with foil. Bake for 1 hour.
Remove the foil from the baking dish and continue cooking until lightly browned and cooked through, about another 30 minutes.
Cut open and devour.
AlmondGirl approved!
Friday, April 9, 2010
In Which There Is Steak Salad
There's a certain self-congratulatory pretentiousness inherent in calling oneself a foodie and so I'm reluctant to use the term, but I do love good food. The problem with loving good food is that it tends to get expensive and so if one has a weekly grocery budget to which one likes to adhere, one must stretch those ingredients however possible. And when one of the people one feeds is a 6'5 man with a proportionately large appetite, that can take work.
Last night we had steak salads for dinner. Salads are one of my favorite things to eat because of the fact that they are bulky and filling without being heavy. They're endlessly variable and provide an excellent way to make the most of pricey and/or calorie-dense foods. Steak salads are a always a hit around here and they are a great way to showcase some really high-quality ingredients. No dressing needed. All items shown were purchased at Wegman's
The components of last night's salads were Wegman's organic spring mix, Wegman's perfect portions of organic grass-fed sirloin, sauteed mushrooms and red onions, St. Agur (one of my absolute favorite blue cheeses), walnuts, and dried cranberries.
To begin, I sprinkled the steaks with kosher salt and seared them on the grill. While they were cooking, I sliced the mushrooms and red onions, then cooked them until caramelized in a pan sprayed with Pam.
When the steaks were done to our taste (we eat them rare at the Marzipan household) I let them sit for about 5 minutes, then sliced them.
Assembling the salads was a snap. Bed of lettuce, saute mix and steak so the juices would run down, then top with cheese, nuts, and cranberries.
Detail of the tastiness:
For dessert, the kids had some Pocky that I picked up from Han Ah Reum and Mr. Marzipan and I had rock glasses full of Traderspoint Wildberry Yogurt. It is amazingly creamy and rich and heavenly, and contains only a few more calories and far less sugar than that godawful stuff stabilized with cornstarch and gelatin. And such lovely packaging! It's in a glass bottle with this pretty label.
Last night we had steak salads for dinner. Salads are one of my favorite things to eat because of the fact that they are bulky and filling without being heavy. They're endlessly variable and provide an excellent way to make the most of pricey and/or calorie-dense foods. Steak salads are a always a hit around here and they are a great way to showcase some really high-quality ingredients. No dressing needed. All items shown were purchased at Wegman's
The components of last night's salads were Wegman's organic spring mix, Wegman's perfect portions of organic grass-fed sirloin, sauteed mushrooms and red onions, St. Agur (one of my absolute favorite blue cheeses), walnuts, and dried cranberries.
To begin, I sprinkled the steaks with kosher salt and seared them on the grill. While they were cooking, I sliced the mushrooms and red onions, then cooked them until caramelized in a pan sprayed with Pam.
When the steaks were done to our taste (we eat them rare at the Marzipan household) I let them sit for about 5 minutes, then sliced them.
Assembling the salads was a snap. Bed of lettuce, saute mix and steak so the juices would run down, then top with cheese, nuts, and cranberries.
Detail of the tastiness:
For dessert, the kids had some Pocky that I picked up from Han Ah Reum and Mr. Marzipan and I had rock glasses full of Traderspoint Wildberry Yogurt. It is amazingly creamy and rich and heavenly, and contains only a few more calories and far less sugar than that godawful stuff stabilized with cornstarch and gelatin. And such lovely packaging! It's in a glass bottle with this pretty label.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
In Which I Have No Shame
I love sale shopping. I always feel faintly stupid when I pay full retail for an article of clothing, as though the store has bested me in an ongoing and elaborate battle of wits. I'm the slow-moving lady who peruses the shelves and stocks up on twenty bottles of clearance SPF 75 in October. I have a beautiful red satin evening gown that I love in part because it's beautiful and sexy but largely because I got it marked down from over $300 to $23. I haunt consignment shops and the Goodwill. (Really - you would not believe these fabulous Diesel jeans I picked up for $4.25.)
It annoys/amuses my husband at times I think. We sometimes have conversations like this:
Him: I like your shirt. Is it silk or something?
Me: Thank you, yes it is. I got it on clearance for $3.
This is in part because I do not cut corners on my food because I am a snob and therefore need to economize in other places. But I kind of get a rush from it, like a treasure hunt.
So today I was at Target, perusing the end caps as per usual (very good deals at the Owings Mills store, locals) when I found a shelf with about 30 packages of the store brand "personal warming gel" marked way down. This gave me pause. I recently attended one of those Very Special Grown Up Toy parties at a friend's house. The toy lady was raving about the benefits of such ointments and how they were the most glorious substances on earth and how unless you were a nun or a masochist, you should have an ample supply.
And there, in Target, I remembered her enthusiasm. I also remembered that she encouraged me to hold about a dozen different kinds of vibrators to the tip of my nose and that I had something called "The Dolphin" buzzing in my face when my friend's husband got home, but I can forgive. It had been a long time since I made such a purchase, but I had a vague idea that she was correct.
It was on sale, you guys. And so I bought discount generic personal warming gel. I feel like it would be awkward to remark upon the price if Mr. Marzipan likes it though.
It annoys/amuses my husband at times I think. We sometimes have conversations like this:
Him: I like your shirt. Is it silk or something?
Me: Thank you, yes it is. I got it on clearance for $3.
This is in part because I do not cut corners on my food because I am a snob and therefore need to economize in other places. But I kind of get a rush from it, like a treasure hunt.
So today I was at Target, perusing the end caps as per usual (very good deals at the Owings Mills store, locals) when I found a shelf with about 30 packages of the store brand "personal warming gel" marked way down. This gave me pause. I recently attended one of those Very Special Grown Up Toy parties at a friend's house. The toy lady was raving about the benefits of such ointments and how they were the most glorious substances on earth and how unless you were a nun or a masochist, you should have an ample supply.
And there, in Target, I remembered her enthusiasm. I also remembered that she encouraged me to hold about a dozen different kinds of vibrators to the tip of my nose and that I had something called "The Dolphin" buzzing in my face when my friend's husband got home, but I can forgive. It had been a long time since I made such a purchase, but I had a vague idea that she was correct.
It was on sale, you guys. And so I bought discount generic personal warming gel. I feel like it would be awkward to remark upon the price if Mr. Marzipan likes it though.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
In Which There Is Sunshine
It's only Wednesday, and I've already had too long of a week. Emotional strain, kids out of school, and a hacking lingering cough that is making me sound like a phone sex operator and which I wish to hell would have the decency to just get bad and then go away.
Mr. Marzipan and I put the kids to bed early last night because they needed it and we really needed it. Then we curled up on our epic couch (21 running feet of L-shaped couch) to watch Chuck. Mr. Marzipan hates to watch TV and movies with me because my suspension of disbelief is horrible and I get confused by elaborate plot points. He has to hit Pause a lot so I can say things like, "How come she's with that guy? I thought the other guy was a bad guy and then they....oh. Because of the raccoon, right? Oh, hey, that guy's using the mass spectrophotometer wrong. This is stupid."
But aside from making no sense at all in this universe or any other, Chuck is fun and silly and the theme is an instrumental version of one of my favorite Cake songs ever. Mr. Marzipan put a pillow on his lap and patted it, indicating that I should lay down. I did, and he drew endless circles on my back as I lay drowsing in the ambient light of the TV, coughing feebly.
When the episode ended, he ordered me to bed. I coughed my way upstairs and curled into a pitiful ball on my side of the bed, which Mr. Marzipan refers to as The Pit because my Sleep Number is 30. He came up a few minutes later, carrying the vaporizer. He filled it with eucalyptus oil and set it on my night table. Then he brought me Ny-Quil and water before climbing in bed next to me. He removed his shirt and rubbed some eucalyptus oil into his skin so that I could lay my head there and breathe it in. It was a very good way to fall asleep.
***
I talked to my friend Julee this morning.
"You sound better," she said. "Or at least you sound less sexy."
***
I had a playdate with my friend Mary Alice and her five children. We went to one of those inflatable bounce room places and this total weirdo came up and started talking to Mary Alice about the aforementioned five children, demanding to know whether Mary Alice was "Catholic or something." Mary Alice is Mormon. The woman then told us an elaborate story beginning with how her mother was a nun and then moved on to an IUD and ended with liver failure. She also mentioned Big Love in an attempt to connect with Mary Alice.
Facepalm.
But also hilarious.
***
I came home and there was a message from my mother in law who - in the past ten years - has said maybe five overtly nice things to me. She thanked me for coming to the Seder and told me how much she appreciated it. This is a huge step forward.
Thanks, Heather.
***
My aunt came over and helped with the kids while I worked in the garden. I'm muddy and bloody and scratched and be-splintered. The afternoon light was warm and buttery, and there were the most delicious smells coming from the hyacinths. I'm going to grill some chicken here shortly and be thankful that I am alive in the world today.
Mr. Marzipan and I put the kids to bed early last night because they needed it and we really needed it. Then we curled up on our epic couch (21 running feet of L-shaped couch) to watch Chuck. Mr. Marzipan hates to watch TV and movies with me because my suspension of disbelief is horrible and I get confused by elaborate plot points. He has to hit Pause a lot so I can say things like, "How come she's with that guy? I thought the other guy was a bad guy and then they....oh. Because of the raccoon, right? Oh, hey, that guy's using the mass spectrophotometer wrong. This is stupid."
But aside from making no sense at all in this universe or any other, Chuck is fun and silly and the theme is an instrumental version of one of my favorite Cake songs ever. Mr. Marzipan put a pillow on his lap and patted it, indicating that I should lay down. I did, and he drew endless circles on my back as I lay drowsing in the ambient light of the TV, coughing feebly.
When the episode ended, he ordered me to bed. I coughed my way upstairs and curled into a pitiful ball on my side of the bed, which Mr. Marzipan refers to as The Pit because my Sleep Number is 30. He came up a few minutes later, carrying the vaporizer. He filled it with eucalyptus oil and set it on my night table. Then he brought me Ny-Quil and water before climbing in bed next to me. He removed his shirt and rubbed some eucalyptus oil into his skin so that I could lay my head there and breathe it in. It was a very good way to fall asleep.
***
I talked to my friend Julee this morning.
"You sound better," she said. "Or at least you sound less sexy."
***
I had a playdate with my friend Mary Alice and her five children. We went to one of those inflatable bounce room places and this total weirdo came up and started talking to Mary Alice about the aforementioned five children, demanding to know whether Mary Alice was "Catholic or something." Mary Alice is Mormon. The woman then told us an elaborate story beginning with how her mother was a nun and then moved on to an IUD and ended with liver failure. She also mentioned Big Love in an attempt to connect with Mary Alice.
Facepalm.
But also hilarious.
***
I came home and there was a message from my mother in law who - in the past ten years - has said maybe five overtly nice things to me. She thanked me for coming to the Seder and told me how much she appreciated it. This is a huge step forward.
Thanks, Heather.
***
My aunt came over and helped with the kids while I worked in the garden. I'm muddy and bloody and scratched and be-splintered. The afternoon light was warm and buttery, and there were the most delicious smells coming from the hyacinths. I'm going to grill some chicken here shortly and be thankful that I am alive in the world today.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
In Which I Say Goodbye To A Friend
On Saturday morning I received the very unhappy news that a friend of mine - a beloved wife and mother of three - had died very unexpectedly. I thought it must be some kind of sick joke that someone was pulling because there was simply no possible way Heather could be gone. It was incomprehensible to me that the brilliant, funny, kind, gentle person I respected so highly could wink out of existence without warning. She'd been there for me on the days when I believed I had to abandon my children and flee to Istanbul to stay sane and on the days when I was in love with the world and needed to share it. She was so delighted with the lot life had handed her that I wanted to take notes so I could be more like her.
Other than her dazzlingly dry wit and storytelling skill, one of the best things about Heather was her wisdom. She was so refreshingly honest about herself and her shortcomings, but never gave herself enough credit for what a knack she had for presenting advice in a simple, non-condescending way.
Since before my husband and I got married, there have been Ongoing Issues with his family, and I haven't been to a family holiday in almost 6 years. I was planning to skip Passover this year too, but I've been thinking a lot about something Heather wrote about marriage once:
So I'm going to dinner.
I was stricken with grief for her family and I was - I am - so angry about it. She was a wonderful friend, a wonderful wife, and a wonderful mother. She loved her family fiercely but never cheapened that love by idealizing anyone, or putting them on a pedestal. And despite my gimlet eye towards religion, Heather's brand of Catholicism always sounded so reasonable to me. I envied her faith because rather than seeming like blind obedience, her devotion to her beliefs came across as the natural conclusion to a well thought out course of questioning. I don't believe in Heather's god but I truly, truly hope that I am wrong and that He exists and has welcomed her warmly home.
Other than her dazzlingly dry wit and storytelling skill, one of the best things about Heather was her wisdom. She was so refreshingly honest about herself and her shortcomings, but never gave herself enough credit for what a knack she had for presenting advice in a simple, non-condescending way.
Since before my husband and I got married, there have been Ongoing Issues with his family, and I haven't been to a family holiday in almost 6 years. I was planning to skip Passover this year too, but I've been thinking a lot about something Heather wrote about marriage once:
A marriage that demands nothing from you is not a marriage, it's somebody indulging you. Love will get you through anything, but love doesn't mean "feeling affectionate." Love is giving of yourself when you don't feel like it, and I guarantee you that sooner or later, you're not going to feel like it. At that point, you will have to make an effort to swallow your pride, gain self-control, and behave completely unselfishly. Unless you've gained the status of saint, it's going to be hard. This is true of everybody, not just you.I started thinking about what I have been teaching my children by not going. About what I have been telling my husband about my ability to put his needs before my own when I really, really don't want to. Heather gave me so much over the years I was graced with her acquaintance, and the best thing I can think to do to honor that is try to make choices that I wouldn't be ashamed to confess to her. I admired her so deeply.
So I'm going to dinner.
I was stricken with grief for her family and I was - I am - so angry about it. She was a wonderful friend, a wonderful wife, and a wonderful mother. She loved her family fiercely but never cheapened that love by idealizing anyone, or putting them on a pedestal. And despite my gimlet eye towards religion, Heather's brand of Catholicism always sounded so reasonable to me. I envied her faith because rather than seeming like blind obedience, her devotion to her beliefs came across as the natural conclusion to a well thought out course of questioning. I don't believe in Heather's god but I truly, truly hope that I am wrong and that He exists and has welcomed her warmly home.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
In Which There Are Vampires
I need to make a little preamble here. I know hating on Twilight is the Thing To Do among certain people and that it hasn't got the same elitist cachet as opining that Picasso is just so pedestrian, Stanley, and we really need something a little less nouveau riche above the guest bidet, don't you think? If I were a cutting edge hipster I would - instead of mocking Twilight as the literary equivalent of Cheez Whiz - like it ironically and host dramatic readings of it at an ugly sweater party while serving ironic hipster canapes and playing some tunes on the 8-track. So I'm not even a hipster. I'm a run of the mill uptight snob. Which I'm okay with.
Back when I was a teenage girl we read Anne Rice books and they were full of florid purple prose and the most godawful glut of adjectives and lurid emotions on Earth. Which I loved, of course, because I was fourteen and therefore terribly misunderstood in the way of all fourteen year old girls except that I was different and special and there was this seriously crazed part of my brain that wanted to believe Lestat and I would, like, totally have this connection and it would be magical and intense or whatever. So I understand this desire to read about the captivating undead and I get the whole sexualization of vampires and witches and whatever the hell Lasher and Emmaleth were. (And just a note here, Stephenie Meyer - even crazy Anne Rice knew that giving birth to a fully formed human adult is creepy and weird and the creature must be destroyed, okay? I'm just saying.)
But you know, Anne Rice is Anne Rice. Not everyone can pull it off. For the same reason that Lady Gaga can get away with wearing bows made of hair and dressing up as a used tampon at a major musical event but if I did it would not be unexpected to find myself approached by people who think NASA uses microwave ovens to implant subliminal messages into our brains while the meatloaf reheats.
The gag-inducing writing style aside, these Forks vampires are fairly wimpy. They decide to spend eternity in high school. Lestat and Louis were off eating luscious prostitutes and buying chateaux and hanging out with Lucifer. They rocked immortality, my friends. They rocked it hard. Note: Robert Pattinson looks like a total wanker, but this quote from him makes him not such a bad kid: The more I read about this guy the more I hated him, so that's how I played him—as a manic-depressive who hates himself. Plus he's a hundred-year-old virgin, so he's obviously got some issues there.
Also I don't like the way the books romanticize creepy possessive stalker guys who condescend to you and WATCH YOU SLEEP WHAT THE HELL THAT IS NOT ROMANTIC. From what I gleaned about SMeyer by reading interviews and suchlike, she has very juvenile ideas about relationships. These books bug me because the writing is lame and stilted and thesaurus-reliant. It makes me sad that people are going apeshit over this stuff when there are so many amazing books out there.
So, in the spirit of being kind of bitter that SMeyer cannot, in my humble opinion (and also Stephen King's), write for shit and yet probably sleeps on a mattress stuffed with shredded hundred dollar bills, I bring you this list of funny websites that make fun of Twilight. Many thanks to the parenting message board where I am a member for bringing a number of these to my attention.
Writing
Why Breaking Dawn Must Be Made Into A Movie
Cleolinda's Recaps
Growing Up Cullen
Chris vs. Twilight
The Onion
Multimedia
Twilight Moms
Buffy vs. Edward
Vampax
Firelight With Taylor Swift
My Life Is Twilight
Twilight Dildo _NSFW, Reviews Are Priceless
Regretsy-ed
Twilight the Musical
Back when I was a teenage girl we read Anne Rice books and they were full of florid purple prose and the most godawful glut of adjectives and lurid emotions on Earth. Which I loved, of course, because I was fourteen and therefore terribly misunderstood in the way of all fourteen year old girls except that I was different and special and there was this seriously crazed part of my brain that wanted to believe Lestat and I would, like, totally have this connection and it would be magical and intense or whatever. So I understand this desire to read about the captivating undead and I get the whole sexualization of vampires and witches and whatever the hell Lasher and Emmaleth were. (And just a note here, Stephenie Meyer - even crazy Anne Rice knew that giving birth to a fully formed human adult is creepy and weird and the creature must be destroyed, okay? I'm just saying.)
But you know, Anne Rice is Anne Rice. Not everyone can pull it off. For the same reason that Lady Gaga can get away with wearing bows made of hair and dressing up as a used tampon at a major musical event but if I did it would not be unexpected to find myself approached by people who think NASA uses microwave ovens to implant subliminal messages into our brains while the meatloaf reheats.
The gag-inducing writing style aside, these Forks vampires are fairly wimpy. They decide to spend eternity in high school. Lestat and Louis were off eating luscious prostitutes and buying chateaux and hanging out with Lucifer. They rocked immortality, my friends. They rocked it hard. Note: Robert Pattinson looks like a total wanker, but this quote from him makes him not such a bad kid: The more I read about this guy the more I hated him, so that's how I played him—as a manic-depressive who hates himself. Plus he's a hundred-year-old virgin, so he's obviously got some issues there.
Also I don't like the way the books romanticize creepy possessive stalker guys who condescend to you and WATCH YOU SLEEP WHAT THE HELL THAT IS NOT ROMANTIC. From what I gleaned about SMeyer by reading interviews and suchlike, she has very juvenile ideas about relationships. These books bug me because the writing is lame and stilted and thesaurus-reliant. It makes me sad that people are going apeshit over this stuff when there are so many amazing books out there.
So, in the spirit of being kind of bitter that SMeyer cannot, in my humble opinion (and also Stephen King's), write for shit and yet probably sleeps on a mattress stuffed with shredded hundred dollar bills, I bring you this list of funny websites that make fun of Twilight. Many thanks to the parenting message board where I am a member for bringing a number of these to my attention.
Writing
Why Breaking Dawn Must Be Made Into A Movie
Cleolinda's Recaps
Growing Up Cullen
Chris vs. Twilight
The Onion
Multimedia
Twilight Moms
Buffy vs. Edward
Vampax
Firelight With Taylor Swift
My Life Is Twilight
Twilight Dildo _NSFW, Reviews Are Priceless
Regretsy-ed
Twilight the Musical
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