Saturday, December 4, 2010

My Twilight Years

A few weeks ago I alluded to some notes I made for a post on "Why I would date Edward Cullen" but instead decided/was coerced by Pandora (the internet radio, not the character from a cautionary tale about snooping around Christmas presents) to write a post that saved the world from inappropriate x-ray photos and cancer, which was way more giving back/paying it forward/good karma/superhero stuff than another poke of fun at my interest in teenage vampire books. And now that the world is once again safe from low levels of radiation (because President Obama reads my blog and will soon be deploying the first TSA K-9 brigades to your local municipal airport, or at least he should) I'm indulging my decidedly more shallow side. Considering my deep side is like, 4 inches below my kneecap, you KNOW what will follow is complete drivel, just like what you waded through above. So, feel free to go and read something more intellectual, like this.*

(Looks left. Looks right. Looks under chair.) Just the two of us left huh? That's why we're besties!!! (giggling and clapping)

So, you know the quote from the movie, "You're impossibly fast and strong. Your skin is pale white and cold. Your eyes change color, and sometimes you speak like you're from a different time. You never eat or drink anything. You don't go out in the sunlight. How old are you?" That's why I'd date Edward Cullen.

Let me explain.

When I was in college I signed up for this history class. I'd never been interested in much of any American history past the passage of the 19th Amendment but I needed another history credit for my minor and 20th Century America was open and fit my work schedule perfectly. With dread, I dragged myself to class that first day and there. he. was. He was perfect. So distinguished. Plus he was extremely cute with the way his hair made a perfect fuzzy point on the top of his head! And he was 88 years old. Dude, I was going to be taught modern history by a man who had lived it! He spun stories of growing up during WWI, how he fought in WWII, the Vietnam era, Watergate, flappers, speak easies, the Civil Rights Movement....and it was only the first class! The next week, I skipped lightly over the quad, notebook tucked under my arm. Birds were singing, butterflies had landed gently on my blue backpack attracted by the rainbow colors of my educational joy. But when I got to the classroom my octogenarian professor was not there. Instead there was some TA lady who said she was taking over the class because MY PROFESSOR HAD DIED!!!! Seriously. Died. Do you know what kind of baggage that leaves you with?!?

So, it's not Eward's sparkly skin or his impossibly fast reflexes or his He-Man like strength. It's not the amber twinkle in his eyes or his animal blood diet (which I'd totally Bunnicula-ize by the way). It's because, while we are taking long romantic walks through the hazy Hoh rainforest just outside of Forks, he could spin stories of Black Tuesday, Frances Perkins, Sputnik, when Elvis met Nixon, Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, sit-ins, the Beatles influence on modern American rock music, Gershwin.... And the butterflies would land gently on my blue backpack attracted, again, by the rainbow colors of my educational joy.



*I'd totally read something else if I had any brain power left that could function on such a level.**

**Because the computers and children are currently sucking my brain out of my left nostril and have dropped my brain wattage from something like 10 volts to 2.***

***I've never understood electricity so I only assume that two is less than ten. Assumptions have gotten me into trouble before.****

****Do I REALLY need another footnote to explain this one?*****

*****DUDE! I totally crack myself up!******

******definition 3*******

*******This is only funny if you clicked on the like this link.

2 comments:

  1. I so love you. And I have no recollection of the history professor that died from college. I am sitting in Sbux laughing out loud (seriously) from your blog. Keep it up!!! I miss you!!!

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  2. My history professor totally died, unless it was a ruse because he's more Edward like than I realized at the time.... OH MY GOSH!! They both have pointy hair! What do they call that? A red flag? Herring? EDWARD WAS MY 20th CENTURY AMERICA HISTORY PROFESSOR!!

    I miss you too, Breezey!

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