I think I just needed to write.

I don't know why I suddenly felt the urge or need to log into MySpace, but I did. Though it's been a while since I've used it frequently, I still log on occasionally, for really no other reason than there is an icon in my browser, nestled between Facebook and Yahoo. The style and format of the page has changed from when MySpace reigned, but it sits in a little corner of the interweb, still holding messages from long ago. It's like an abandoned town. My page is still decked out in my favorite colors, complete with pictures and a filled in "about me" section. There are comments from friends. It's a relic.

I went into my inbox, because that's where the interesting stuff really is. I went through some old conversations, some that I had no idea what was being talked about, and others that reminded me of a silly fight or weekend plans I had one night. In particular, I enjoyed finding responses to survey's that I had snarkily completed. I feel like I was much clever then. Or I was trying to be clever. I'm not really sure.

I went back over to Facebook, the MySpace of now, and at the suggestion of Daniel Cohen started to fill out a survey in the style of me being silly and insolent. I did the first couple of questions, trying be best to be funny or clever or interesting. The third question asked me when I was last hugged by a guy. This made me sad, because I've hardly been hugged here at college. So I stopped.

It's not meant to be a pity party, just what happened. And that's what happened.

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A while ago I accidentally compared The Jonas Brothers to The Beatles. Luckily, I have the right friends, and they demanded I take it back immediately. But part of what I said is true! With the release of New Moon this week, I got to thinking about crazy hysterical pre-teen obsessions.

Now, I know that I like The Beatles. I like their music quite a lot. And though I do sometimes get the feeling that some people who "like" The Beatles only do so because it makes them feel cool, it's not like it was 30-40 years ago. Which makes me wonder if I was a teenager when The Beatles were in their heyday, would I still like them? Or would I be too disgusted by the screaming girls around me that I refused to listen to them. In the third grade I HATED Pokemon because everyone liked it. I created my own card game - Appaloosas! Or in contrast, would I be one of those screaming girls? And furthermore, if I rejected them because of their overwhelming popularity, isn't that just as bad as accepting them because of it?

Maybe the Twilight series follows this same hypothetical fate. Disregarding the fact that Twilight has no literary merit whatsoever, would I like this series if it wasn't accompanied by ridiculous fan-girls who are in love with the main character? If it wasn't so disgustingly popular, would I be able to like the books for what they are? Now, I've read three of the books. I was hooked when I read Twilight. I finished it in two days, and craved New Moon. But the ultimate answer to this hypothetical question is no. The books are awful, even if I didn't realize it at first.


I don't really know what the whole point of this blog post was. It started with MySpace, and ended with me concluding that Twilight sucks. Goodnight.