I had grand plans of super-cleaning my house this weekend in preparation for the Greatest Halloween Party Ever, but since Todd was feeling kind of sickly, I couldn't be bustling around the house making a lot of noise, could I? Of COURSE not. What kind of wife do you think I am?
So, instead of cleaning, I finished up Breaking Dawn, which concluded my whirlwind reading of the ENTIRE Twilight series, which I started on Tuesday. As in, five days before I finished them. All four books.
I feel vaguely embarassed by this, like I spent the weekend doing something shameful. Like surfing the 'net for porn, or campaigning for McCain or something.
But I have to say this: I loved, loved, LOVED those darn books. The teenage angst! The overly dramatic heartbreak! The barely-hidden message of morality! The vampires! The werewolves!
Oh, and I wish I was named Bella. I may have a child soon, just to name her Bella.
Now I'm totally all geeked-up and anxious for the movie, which comes out November 21, not that I checked or anything. I am SO making Little go with me for opening night. I might even wear fangs.
And in case you thought I spent the whole weekend with no intellectual stimulation, never fear, I rounded out my Sunday with The Incredible Hulk, Edward Norton version. And as much as I love me some Edward Norton, it still doesn't stand up to the wonderful Eddie's father himself, Bill Bixby.
Crap, I guess I have to go back to being an adult tomorrow.