So Twilight kicked ass at the Teen Choice Awards this week, picking up 11 highly prestigious trophies for groundbreaking stuff like "Choice Movie Rumble" and "Choice Movie Liplock." And the news just made me sigh, and feel very old, and very tired.
Because vampires? Sorry, kids. I am so over vampires.
It's not that I begrudge today's teens, tweens and "Twilight moms" their love for vamps. It's just that I've got a couple of decades of vampire books, movies, and TV shows under my belt while for them, the honeymoon period with broody blood-suckers is still in full swing. If Robert Pattinson looks more to me like a pouty emo kid who should be serving up my triple sugar-free vanilla latte than a 104-year-old creature of the night, that says more about me than it says about Twilight fans. I've been reading about vampires, watching movies with vampires, and enjoying the occasional TV show about vampires longer than many of them have been alive -- and honestly, I've never understood why women find them so dreamy.
Of course, I never got the fascination with that particular breed of male hero at all, going all the way back to my early exposure to chick-lit and romance novels. I like my men funny, personable, and emotionally available. The vaguely dangerous bad boy with his gloomy demeanor, quick temper and withholding of affection, who only opens up when he finally finds True Love in the arms of the heroine ... that's not for me. I'd have kicked Heathcliff to the curb for being whiny and self-centered, and Mr. Darcy's rudeness would have placed him firmly on my uh-uh, not-in-a-million-years list. Vampires are merely a more cold-blooded take on the same hard-to-wrangle men that star in all those books with the ripped-shirt Fabios on the covers.