A few days ago I wrote about a curious phenomenon I’m calling The Twilight Effect, or in other words, how a movie and book series full of mediocrity and unintentional hilarity aimed at 15-year-old girls has managed to completely captivate thousands of otherwise sensible grown women with (usually) good taste.
Since my boyfriend would sooner light himself on fire than be caught dead seeing Twilight, I dragged three of my girlfriends–who were complete Twilight virgins–out to the theater on a cold, snowy Friday night. On my left was Joanna, who I can always count on to embrace the cheesiness of any dorky phase I happen to be going through. She thoroughly enjoyed the movie, and bless her, had no problem admitting that.
And on Joanna’s other side sat my much snarkier friends Julie and Stephanie, who spent most of the movie making fun of it (“OMFG GLITTER VAMPIRES!?”). Which is precisely why I find these emails hilarious:
Finally, and most alarmingly–
My 70-something year old Grandmother asked to borrow my books. (And she loved them.)