I Am a Rotic...

I read and re-read classic books about the ongoing quest for love.

I watch romantic films and epic love stories.

I stir with the lyrical voices of the romantic poets.

I listen to love songs and sappy musicals with a heartfelt sigh.

Yes, I’m a rotic. A romantic without a man in my life. I dream, write and hope to find a love of my own one day. I want it deeply. I crave it. I long for it, and yet it has eluded me completely. It baffles me. It frustrates me. It ticks me off. It teases me, and yet, it seems forever a part of me. I find I can’t completely turn it off. I’ve tried.

I can tune it out for a period. I can avoid chic flicks and run from Masterpiece Theatre. I can hide the poetry and lock away my favorite books. I can drown out the sounds of Michael Bublé in my head with some Nickelback.

But it doesn’t change who I am. I’m a passionate thing. I feel deeply, always have. I can run from that desire and pretend the ache does not exist. OR I can simply accept the longing as part of who I am. It doesn’t define me entirely. It’s just another aspect of my personality, my character.

Hello. My name is Melanie, and I’m a rotic/romantic, but it is just a slice of who I am...

Sharing a Little Twilight Magic

Normally, I confess, I’m not big on hype. If everyone gushes over something, I tend to stand back. I guess I assume if everyone likes it, I won’t. However, when I am told that I should not read a book or see a certain film, it’s gonna be an automatic magnetic draw on my very soul to do the exact opposite. I don’t like dogmatic statements being made without any evidence or someone taking a personal stance against a book or a film WITHOUT having seen it for themselves. I don’t believe in just passing along the same message without actual knowledge for myself. I like to make up my own mind about things.

And so it was that I delved into the Harry Potter series several years ago. Someone bashed the books in my presence and called them pure evil. I pointedly asked if they had read the books for themselves, and they had not. They were just spouting what they had heard second or third-hand. I immediately picked up the first book, and I’ve been hooked ever since.

Essentially, the same thing happened with Twilight. I saw the first film on DVD early in 2009 after there was such an outcry against the books and the film from the Christian right. I loved the first film and immediately jumped into the 4-book series by Stephenie Meyer. I was mesmerized with the passionate journey of Bella and Edward from the get-go. I own all of the films and am eagerly awaiting the 4th and 5th film installations, which will split the final book in the series between them. WOOHOO!!

Well, it has been nearly 2 years since my own Twilight infection, and I guess it was time I spread my affliction and corrupted others. About a month ago, my sister Barbara and my friend Lisa came to my place for a girls’ weekend. On Sunday morning, I was in the living room flipping channels, and as luck would have it, the first Twilight film was playing on cable. I watched a few minutes before Lisa and Barbara joined me on the couch. It was one of my favorite scenes, where Bella first spots the Cullen family, and so the 3 of us watched the film for a few moments before dashing off to church. After that brief introduction, both Lisa and Barbara said that they were curious to see the film for themselves, and so we talked about watching it later after church. So, you guessed it. That afternoon we watched the first film, and they liked it.

THEY REALLY LIKED IT!

Barbara had to head home after the first film, but Lisa stayed to watch the 2nd and 3rd films that night before driving back to Cincinnati. And from there, it all began. Both of them eagerly got right into the books and subsequently devoured everything on Twilight within days. They have read the books, have seen all the films (more than once), have bought all the soundtracks, have poked around Twilight sights online, etc.

Yes, I believe they have now surpassed my own obsession. Maybe. I've just had 2 years to work on keeping my cool. HA!

Red Riding Hood

I made it to see Red Riding Hood this weekend and found the scenery, setting and storyline familiar like an old friend. This is not the fairy tale I grew up with; although cleverly, there were scenes and dialogue thrown in for that nostalgia affect. It wasn’t completely brand new.

This was a fresh take on an old story, and yet it was familiar somehow, like catching up with an old friend. A lot of that has to do with the director. This is after all a Catherine Hardwicke film, who is best-known as the director of Twilight. And this her latest film also left me breathless.

Red Riding Hood is not Twilight, but it has a similar style, landscape and even a lover’s triangle. It is not an Oscar contender. It is not perfect and was more than slightly predictable, and yet, I liked it frivolous though it may be. I loved seeing a familiar actor in quite a different father role this time around. Oh yes, I enjoyed the ride, the intensity and chemistry between characters! And the end left me wishing for more because I knew the story was really just beginning.

No, fairy tales aren’t just for Disney any more...I'm glad.

Needing a Do-Over

I’d like to go back in the recent past and re-do a “getting to know you” moment. I’d like another crack at that conversation, a second chance to make a first impression.

I didn’t say anything I regret. I wasn’t rude. I wasn’t unkind. I wasn’t much of anything really. I clammed up. I was quiet and a bit reserved without trying to be. I listened and responded appropriately, but I was not myself at all.

I was more Jane than Lizzie.

Call it nerves of attraction, I guess. I was intrigued. I was curious. Very curious. But I’m not sure I portrayed that what with my catatonic pose and serene demeanor. I shut down and retreated into my head out of angst. I did little to contribute to the conversation other than a nod or two, a trance-like smile and a couple of yes or no answers. I gulped and seemingly swallowed my personality.

I’m laughing at myself. I am. And while I don’t know if I’ll ever get a do-over with this particular person, I’d like to imagine I could…

Aching for Beauty

I think each of us ache for beauty. Sometimes we catch a glimpse of it, and it is more than we can handle here in the present. It doesn’t resonate with the other things in our lives – the chaos, the hatred, the pain, the struggles. Somehow just a peek at something pure or less tainted creates a dissonance within. It leaves us longing for that something else. Longing for more! We long for something else perhaps less defined. I think most of us - Christian or non-Christian – hope for more. We crave something we can’t always identify.

I think certain longings or desires aren’t meant to be over-ridden or ignored. I think these are the outcry of our souls, searching for something we can’t find within. We long for something else – a deeper communion, a perfect harmony with something outside ourselves.

It is magical.

It is mystical.

And yet it is real.

C.S. Lewis said it best: “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in the world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

It is a dissatisfaction with our current status, and yet, I believe it is all good...