It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 32

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word "culture". Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws.


Today's topic: Bella is a whore.


Let me just state for the record that I am, indeed, one of those freaky Twilight lovers. There, I said it. I love the books, I've read them all multiple times, and it's not just because of my daughter. I won't throw her under the bus. And while I think Jacob is just fine, particularly under the tutelage of Taylor Lautner, I am a Team Edward girl.


Watching Eclipse brought home a theme I felt while reading the books:
Bella is a total cock tease.
(BING! Did you hear that? It's the sound of another follower leaving.)

Dig deep within your soul, Twilight people....if Edward or Jacob was your friend in high school, and Bella was on Edward like white on rice during school, but then hopped on the back of a motorcycle to straddle Jacob and tear out of the parking lot in front of Edward, and both of those hot dudes were walking around totally sexually frustrated, you would:

1. Hate Bella for playing them.
2. Have sympathy sex with at least one of them.
3. Both.
4. Call them up and be all, "I just don't get why you put up with that crap Ed, you are all that and a bag, so just let her run around with those mangy cliff-jumpers" OR "You are so much better than this Jake, go find a girl who will scramble her egg on your chest because if she wants that sparkly freesia-scented freak she deserves him!"

I was so pissed during New Moon, because even though Jacob was a great friend and all, you totally knew he wanted to get in Bella's pants, and he wasn't even that subtle about it, and she's like, "Oh, it's okay if we hold hands, because friends can do that" and "I'll hang out with him every single day even though his friends have all told me that he calls me his girlfriend".  I mean, really?  Really Bella? 

Then Eclipse came along, and I was even MORE pissed, because come ON, Edward is BACK, honey!  Hello, remember the whole Romeo and Juliet thing going on in New Moon?  Like if R & J hadn't killed themselves over their true love, maybe Juliet would've looked at Benvolio some night when he was over to play cards with Romeo and said, "maybe we could hold hands and I could tell him I love him, but not in the way I love Romeo.  That would be okay, right?"  No, Juliet.  No it would not.

And then the whole Eclipse sleeping bag scene?  It's great in the movie, don't get me wrong, I love it.  But let's take stock here:  Bella has been dry humping Edward for almost two years now, and has spent the better part of the last month trying to coax Edward into deflowering her.  She makes a deal that she will marry Edward, even though she is totally against marriage, if he will just do it with her once, even though he has explained that he will most likely kill her during intercourse.  Then enter one really inexplicably cold June night in Forks, and enter Jacob with his 108 degree body whose wolf senses CLEARLY smell a girl in heat.  Suddenly it is ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY to Bella's survival that Jacob wrap his shirtless body around her in her sleeping bag, in front of Edward.  And the entire time, Jacob is fantasizing about bangin' Bella, knowing Edward is reading his mind.

Can you say SADISM?!

Then BANG, the storm is over, Bella can run around without a coat on, and run after Jacob to dry-hump him in front of Edward, and let the wolf stick his tongue down her throat.  Even though Edward is her one true love.  And she's already agreed to marry him.  Then Jacob gets half the bones in his body broken, and after Carlisle painfully rebreaks and resets his bones, Bella walks in to weep and say that she really does love Edward more, but thanks for the smooch.  That's cold, Bella.  Stone ass cold.

I actually didn't like Bella much at the end of Eclipse, the book.  I thought she was a tease and not so naive that she didn't know she was playing both of these guys, particularly Jacob.  And I got a little fed up with the whole "UGH, do I HAVE to marry you Edward?" because who gives a crap if you are marrying him if you are becoming undead soon afterward anyway?  Yes, Bella, you HAVE to marry the superhot sparkly vampire who has pledged his life to you and promised you wedding night nookie even though you will inevitably be cock-blocking him, AGAIN.  And HELLO, can you imagine the haul from the gift registry?   "We'll need 14 Nambe bowls to hold all of the blood at parties, and four sterling candleabras, and some of those lovely Waterford goblets.  For the blood."

Let me take a moment to assure you, gentle reader, that I know these things to be true:

• these are books
• vampires and werewolves are not real
• Bella is a teenager and doesn't know shit
• no one puts blood in Nambe bowls

But still.  I can't have Oldest Daughter sitting there watching the movie thinking, "Damn girl, I need to get me two hot boyfriends and play them off of each other!"  I don't even want her to get ONE hot boyfriend.  I'd like her to be BFF's with a guy on the Lego Robotics team and Computer Club, and they can Facebook each other until they are 23, disease-free, and able to get a nice job with benefits.  But I digress.

Bella?  I know Stephenie had to drag this story out for four books, and there needed to be a conflict.  But it all ended up making you look kind of pathetic and cruel and fairly whorish for a virgin (another favorite scene with Bella and Charlie and "the talk").  And I know there is more coming (no pun intended) in Breaking Dawn, but at least we FINALLY get to see you two nutty kids get past the tentative smooching and groaning stage, because I'm starting to avert my eyes when you kiss.  It's all so pent-up-frustration-y.  As they say in boxing, "LET'S GET IT ON!"

Happy Whoreticulture Friday, and have a terrific weekend!  And go see Eclipse, it's the best one yet!

Jen Lancaster, I am Your Stalker

How do I love thee, Jen Lancaster?  

Let me count thy ways...

First off, let me say that it is nearly 11 p.m. in The House of Wife, and I am leaving tomorrow a.m. for the Erma Bombeck writing conference in Dayton, Ohio.  It is a seven hour drive.  Am I packed?  Negative, ghost rider.  Are my papers in order?  Nope.  Do I have my stuff together to hand to the person who says, "So YOU are Julie!  I've been dying to represent/publish/pay you!"  Negativo.  But I've been teasing you with this Jen Friggin' Lancaster post, and I've been called a lot of things, but never a tease.


Oh, wait.  Yes I have.  Lots of times.  But that's a Whoreticulture Friday-type subject.


A friend of mine told me about Jen last year.  (Thank you, Tricia!)  I went to Jen's website, Jennsylvania, and then immediately ran out and bought all of her books.  They are hysterical and funny and real, and I love that she puts it all out there, bitchy ex-sorority girl and all.  I mean really - swiping a Coach briefcase from a homeless guy?  Invention of the word "asshat"?  Hatred of exercise?  Love of pie and mojitos?   What's not to like?


Then I started noticing all of the similarities between Jen's life and mine, and I realized that bitch had actually STOLEN the life I wanted, except that Jen is Me, and Fletch is CH, and Maisy is George the Superpet and the Thundercats are Oldest Daughter, The Son, and Youngest Daughter.  This is when I decided the most logical thing to do was to stalk her.

I'm not new to stalking - ask any number of guys I dated (or didn't) in high school and college.  I had some, um, how do you say...UNRESOLVED ISSUES...so I would usually pick the guy who was least interested or the worst boyfriend prospect and then beat him into submission.  Very "cavewoman hits him on head with club and drags him to her cave."  My friend and roommate Dippy (this IS what we actually called her) introduced me to Current Husband, and then immediately pulled me aside and said, "He is totally not marriage material."  Hook, line, and sinker.  But the joke was on me, because CH ended up being exactly the kind of guy I should marry.  Funny how those things work out sometimes.


Anyhoo, I started my Jen Stalking in the usual way - I e-mailed her and asked for a meeting.  Because isn't it totally logical that a New York Times Best-Selling author would take the time to meet a complete stranger for drinks and pie?  Here is the actual e-mail I sent:

Hello Jen!

My fellow ex-sorority sister who loves kelly green and pink and Wham directed me to your books.  After the third one, I broke my library habit and actually bought Pretty in Plaid because I felt like an ass reading your work for free.  It was totally worth it, even if it was the equivalent of five Starbucks skinny vanilla lattes.  Totally worth it.

So I am writing my crazy crack whore (my equivalent of asshat) request knowing this will never work, but what the hell.  I SO SO SO want to go to Witty Women Writers, as I live in the Quad Cities and have been DYING to get to one of your events, but I have tickets to David Sedaris in the QC that night and a fabulous outfit already picked out.

SO - (deep breath) - I swear I am not a stalker, but I will be in Chicago on Nov. 12 and wondered if you ever let complete strangers take you out for lunch or pie or fruity alcoholic drinks for an hour (or 30 min!  Or 10!  Or you just yell things out of your window as I drive by!) of brain picking on getting a blog to print.  I know, I am so original, no one else in the world wants a piece of you. 

And I'm aware your time is worth more than pie.

I feel like I just asked you to prom, knowing you will say no.  And I already have my dress.  And I'm totally sober.  Ugh.  Here's my blog, if you aren't entirely creeped out:  www.adayinthewife.blogspot.com

Thanks.  (Sound of cork coming out of merlot.)  Anticipating auto-response.
Julie

 Okay, I can hear you saying, "Bitch, please."  Really.  I already sound psychotic, would YOU meet me?  Without security and a taser gun?  I don't think so.  But Jen, clearly not sensing the imminent danger, actually friggin' E-MAILED ME!!!  And then I had an orgasm and saw Jesus and unicorns and ponies...for a rejection.   But a rejection from JEN LANCASTER!  Here was her response:

Thanks so much for reading and getting in touch .  I really appreciate it!

 

I'm sure you understand that you are not the first person to make such a request, and I just cannot meet everyone one on one and continue to have time to shower and feed the menagerie.  But I hope to see you at a tour event for My Fair Lazy when it is released next year!

 

Best wishes,

Jen

Be careful what you wish for, Jen.  Of course, the tone of this response was very polite, which is not really Jen, so I waited for a few days, checking her blog to see if she would post my e-mail and rip me to shreds - "Can you believe this psycho?" - but she didn't.

Then, in November, she posted this absolutely hysterical riff on New Moon, where she re-creates the ENTIRE MOVIE using the action figure dolls in her kitchen.  Bella jumping off the cliff is the doll jumping in Jen's sink into a bowl, and Edward's apparition is his doll in an upside-down tea pitcher.  If you haven't seen it, here it is - Jen's New New Moon.  Since I am such a Twilight junkie, I felt compelled to comment upon Jen's genius, and it was time for another stalker e-mail:

Okay, I was having a sucky day, and New New Moon completely turned it around.  Really.  Can't wait for My Fair Lazy.

And then I was inspired to write two New Moon blogs, because of you, but I did give you props in the blog, and posted your New New Moon link on my FB page because it should be shared.

www.adayinthewife.com

Thanks for being hilarious.  And REAL!!!  I raise a fruity drink in your honor.
julie

 Holy shit, that's some embarrassing stuff.  And by the way Jen, did you notice my blog address?  Shouldn't you go there and then forward me on to your agent/publicist/editor?  How many times must I suck up to you before you bequeath your publishing life to me?  

Well kids, the answer to that would be ONE MORE TIME.  Because the third time is the charm.  Jen announced on her blog that she had a secret she was going to share later that week.  Most of her fans would read that and say, "I can't wait.  I wonder what my favorite author is up to!?"  Her stalker says, "I literally CAN'T WAIT.  I am going to speed-dial her, go through her garbage cans again, follow her to Starbucks, and e-mail AGAIN.  Because I like to punish myself."  

Jen -

I know!  I know!  You are getting a MOVIE!  And if you are, I want to play one of the people you yell at to get your latte at Starbucks, specifically to yell at me "MOVE MOVE MOVE!!!  A latte doesn't fetch ITSELF!!"

And if you aren't, you should.  Shame on Hollywood!

My book club is traveling from the Quad Cities to one of your Chicago readings in May, can't wait.

Julie, www.adayinthewife.com 

 More sucking up.  And again with the blog address.  Is my book club going?  I don't know.  It just sounded better than "I'll be there wearing your Lacoste shirt and pearls I filched from your dresser while you were out!"  I do know the friend who introduced me to Jen is likely going with me, and clearly needs to bring a tranquilizer gun and the number of my attorney.


But then, it happened.  Jen REPLIED to my e-mail, again:

Julie,

 

No movie yet.  I don't think Hollywood would quite know what to do with me!

Looking forward to seeing you in May!

 

Jen

 Holy shit!  We're friends now!  She loves me!  I understand her!  She's looking forward to seeing me!  She likes me, she really likes me!  And then she responded to my New New Moon e-mail:

Julie,

 

So glad you liked it!

Thanks for writing,

 

Jen

Oh.  So she responds to everything eventually.  Demoted to stalker status, again.  But can you imagine the volume of e-mail this woman gets?  So I was pretty psyched to hear from her.  Of course, I printed her e-mails and put them on my Author Stalker wall, right next to my framed autograph from David Sedaris that says he "looks forward to reading my book someday".  Yes, I forced him to write that, but still.  I think I've come up with the perfect line for Jen to write in my copy of "My Fair Lazy" when I attend the book signing in Chicago:

"Julie -

Cease and desist or I will call the authorities. 
Jen
p.s. Quit sending your damn blog to me, I'm not your meal ticket"

The end.   Or is it?

 

 

 

Edward's Back...And His Front

"Do you really have any idea how important you are to me?  Any concept at all of how much I love you?"  Edward pulled me tighter against his hard chest, tucking my head under his chin.

I pressed my lips against his snow-cold cheek.  "I would get a better idea if you would fix the dishwasher, my handy little vampire."

"You compare one small tree to an entire forest...wait...did you say fix the dishwasher?"

"Yes.  You sit at the table and stare at me the entire time I'm washing the dishes.  For claiming to be so observant, you've really dropped the ball on noticing I am not loading and unloading a dishwasher.  Maybe get up and lend a sister a hand?  And that garbage isn't taking itself out."

 Edward leaving after dishwasher hose bursts.

Worthless bloodsucker.

This weekend, the kids and I watched New Moon.  I ordered it from Amazon, but they gave a free one-day digital download when you ordered the DVD, so at 11 p.m. CST we were able to crowd on the couch and watch it on my computer.  I still love it, even though time has colored some of it in Velveeta-hued shades of cheese.  We can't all be brie, darling.  

(Spoiler Alert!)  So we're crammed on the couch, Oldest Daughter, The Son, Youngest Daughter, and me, all trying to get the best view of the computer screen, and the scene comes up where Edward is in Italy and steps out into the sun with his shirt off.  

YD:  "Why is he naked?"

ME:  "He isn't naked honey, he's showing his skin in the sun."

OD:  "SHHH!"

SON:  "What is wrong with his chest?"

ME:  "What do you mean?"

YD:  "He is TOO naked."

SON:  "He has that one hairy spot on his chest..."

ME:  "SPOT!  You see The Spot!"

OD:  "SHHHH!  Leave The Spot alone!"

SON:  "What do you mean, 'The Spot'?"

YD:  "Why is Edward naked?"

And this is how I know these are my children.

First, YD understands that Edward is, indeed, almost naked.  It's one thing to read the book when he takes his shirt off in Volturra and gets nearly sparkly.  It's quite another to see Rob Pattinson's V-Line in front of you.  Let's take an Urban Dictionary moment:

V-Line:  Usually refers to a guy's ripped obliques, which are like plainly visible arrows pointing to his happy place.

But the New Moon movie people did Rob no favors by flaunting Taylor Lautner's shirtless visage in front of us the entire movie.  Rob, who should be impressive without a shirt, suddenly looks like a scoop of vanilla ice cream next to a Hot Fudge Sundae.

Second, my children seem to be the only other people who noticed Rob's unbalanced nipple hair.  As I mentioned in my post after seeing the movie in the theater, from Whoreticulture Friday, Issue 7, Rob had such disproportionate nipple hair I lost my New Moon focus:

"So far I seem to be the only person who noticed that in New Moon (Oh my GOD will she quit talking about New Moon? No. No she will not.), when Rob Pattinson took his shirt off, one of his nipples had some whackadoodle hair job or something around it. It's like one nipple got the JFK hair and the other one got the Jackie. It was distracting for me. Urban Dictionary calls this a Nipple Brow or a Nipple Beard. I've started calling him Spot, much to Oldest Daughter's chagrin."

 Holy crap, she's right!  This one IS bushier!

All I'm looking for is validation.  I can't be the only person who notices these things.  I mean, come on...they didn't stick him out there naked so I would listen to his dialogue.  So pay a little attention to the details, okay?

Eclipse is coming out on June 30, and since Edward shouldn't be shirtless in this one, all I ask is that they keep his lipstick under control and I'll be happy as a clam.  That is all.

SNL, I'm Available!

I've watched Saturday Night Live since it was one year old in 1976. Seriously.

I was seven years old, but my parents were in their 30's and it was the 1970's, and Saturday Night was alright, alright, alright, according to Elton John. We lived on a lake, so most Saturday nights were party time. We'd ride around in the boat until dark, have a bonfire on the beach, grill out, and then the kids would be put in bed around 10 p.m. when they started dozing off. However, I was born to be a thorn in my parent's side, and from birth I would stay awake most nights until midnight. My parents got to the point where if they knew I was watching TV inside, even SNL was better for me than watching the drinking grown-ups outside. And so I fell in love with John Belushi, Dan Akroyd, Gilda Radner, Jane Curtin, Bill Murray, Laraine Newman, and Garret Morris.

I've been a loyal follower ever since, and even when people say SNL sucks, there are still enough diamonds in the rough to make it worth watching.

However, last Saturday night, with Taylor Lautner as the host, was a dud. And I can fix it!

The opening was okay, but they had Taylor overdo it a bit with his martial arts exhibition. Yes, yes, you can do a back flip. We get it. And the football sketch afterward went on way too long. There was a New Moon reference or two, but they could have gone crazy and it would have been hilarious. Here are my ideas:

1. In the skit where Kristin Wiig plays the woman who can't keep a secret, it was about Taylor and a woman who are married and going to announce she is pregnant. BO-Ring! We've seen the "Can't Keep a Secret" woman before. So why didn't they have Edward and Jacob hanging out with Bella at home, and Charlie is coming home from fishing, and the Can't Keep a Secret woman is there, dying because she wants to tell Charlie about the vampire and werewolf in the house? It was there, ripe for the pickin'! And Andy Samberg has already done Edward, so the costume is even ready.

2. They could have a funny skit with High School Musical vs. Twilight...the "we're all in this together!" kids versus the goth kids who are into vampires. SNL does great musical sketches, it could have been hilarious.

3. They could have Are You Smarter Than a Werewolf game show, with a Michael J. Fox as Teen Wolf v. Jacob v. Jack Nicholson from Wolf, and thrown in Chewbacca for fun.
HOST: "What is the square root of Pi?"
Jacob: "Dang it, even the bloodsucker knew this one!"
MJF: (squeaky voice) "Well I don't know it as Teen Wolf, but Alex Keaton would have known it for sure!"
JACK: "Are you friggin' kidding me? Why am I here?"
Chewie: "ARRRRGGGG!"

4. Bella could be leaving for the Christmas holiday to visit her mother in Jacksonville, and she is trying to check Jacob into the vet to have him kenneled while she is gone. He is resisting and making arguments for why he shouldn't be kenneled, but then he gets mad, morphs into a werewolf, and they shoot him with tranquilizer guns and take him back to kennel him anyway.

5. Taylor Lautner was Sharkboy in one of the worst kid's films, Shark Boy and Lava girl. They should have done a skit with him reprising his role as Shark Boy - maybe as LANDSHARK-Boy!!!

6. And of course, you KNOW Taylor Swift was there. But if she wasn't, someone could have played her, and they could do a skit where the Taylors were recording an album of duets about love. So Taylor Swift starts singing in the microphone, and Taylor Lautner howls.

And P.S. - BON friggin' JOVI as the musical guest? Do you have to advertise that you are old? Thanks be to J that Muse is your musical guest next time, or I would have been uptight.

Whew. I feel so much better to get that off of my chest. I just take it a little personally when SNL lets me down. You're better than that, guys. I'm available.

It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 7

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word culture. Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws.

Today's topic: Nipples

If you go to Wikipedia and look up "nipple", this is what comes up:
In its most general form, a nipple is a structure from which a fluid emanates. More specifically, it is the projection on the breasts of a mammal by which breast milk is delivered to a mother's young.

(And by the way, Guys Who Like Online Porn But Don't Want To Get Caught, Wikipedia and the Urban Dictionary are excellent sources of material for you. Go to Nipple on Wikipedia and you will find a very large photo of a breast and nipple. You're welcome.)

Ish. Even that simple, scientific definition is a little out of my comfort zone. For some reason, nipples gross me out. I can trace this to four specific areas of repulsion:

1. The name is creepy.
Just say it. Nipple. Nipple. Nipple. It makes me think about chewing on a piece of gristle. (Some psychologist is having a Freudian orgasm over that statement right now.) The other words latched on to nipple aren't that attractive either: Areola. Lactiferous ducts. Tara Reid.

2. They're not particularly pretty.
Maybe this is just my experience. I guess I haven't seen too many nipples in person, but most of them look like naked mole rat babies stuck to the front of an otherwise okay breast. The exception to this would be my friend who had implants and showed me her work. They were spectacular. You know who you are. I give you Five Nips Up on that job.

So far I seem to be the only person who noticed that in New Moon (Oh my GOD will she quit talking about New Moon? No. No she will not.), when Rob Pattinson took his shirt off, one of his nipples had some whackadoodle hair job or something around it. It's like one nipple got the JFK hair and the other one got the Jackie. It was distracting for me. Urban Dictionary calls this a Nipple Brow or a Nipple Beard. I've started calling him Spot, much to Oldest Daughter's chagrin.

Maybe my nipple repulsion comes from not loving my nipples like I should. Once, when I was at a legally acceptable age to be showing them off to anyone, a boyfriend told me I had large nipples (Sorry CH. You know it wasn't you. Because I know you are a huge fan.) Now that I am 40, I finally feel comfortable enough to say to that guy, "Only in relation to your dick." Wow. That felt good. Whoreticulture Friday can be very therapeutic.

3. Nipples tend to protrude.
I am not a fan of the "Turkey's Done" look. In high school and college, I would go to great lengths to make sure I was not giving out any Pointers in public. Then I started having babies, and nipples became The Magic Crying Stopper, so I didn't care where or when I whipped them out. Your baby's baptism? Yes. In the mall bathroom? Okay. In my store, while ringing up a customer? Tricky, but can do. Now that I am 40 and gravity is working against me, my nipples seem to be appropriately shamed and look more toward the ground than they used to.

Urban Dictionary is a treasure trove of information. Not only did I learn the following terms on Urban Dictionary, I found that for a low price, I could have them printed on coffee mugs. (I smell a Christmas present for the In-Laws!)

Nipplapolis: When someone's (usually an older lady, sometimes older men) nipples are very noticeably erect through their shirt.

Nipple Botton (sp?) Dress: A dress with a botton (it seems like they mean button) sewed on under the fabric on each breast so they will stick out and look like nipples under her dress.

Nipple Bonk: When a person has an erect nipple caused by cold weather or excitement.

Please note that every Urban Dictionary phrase on here today comes only from the "B" section in Nipple definitions. That's right. There is a whole section with every letter in the alphabet. I told you it's a resource.

4. Nipples are just plain weird.
Admit it. You know someone with a weird nipple story. Maybe it is your mirror. I have a friend, (whom I know is reading this right now - hi you!) whose husband has one nipple that is always erect, while the other one isn't. Just one. I told her he has passive aggressive nipples. She told me she has a third nipple, which is actually pretty common (just ask Marky-Mark!) We were at a party, and she was telling the group about how after she started having kids, she had this mole by her breast. She asked her doctor about it, and voila! Third nipple.

Since I always try to bring the subject back to me, I went to my OB the next week (let's pause for a moment to pity not only my OB, but my OB friend who always get asked awkward questions) and said, "Hey, is there any chance this weird mole by my breast is a third nipple?" and he looked at it and said, "Yes, I think it is" and I said "YES!" and pumped my fist in the air. He looked at me, perplexed, and then went on with invading my personal space.

So, what have we learned today? Nipples sound, look and act funny, and Robert Pattinson needs a new personal groomer.

Back off bitches, my resume is already in the mail.

It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 6

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word culture. Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws.

Today's topic: Breaking (New Moon) Mom
WARNING: Potential spoilers below. Read at your own risk!

I looked across the low ripples in the water, black in the darkness, looking for him.

He wasn't hard to find. He stood, his back to me, waist deep in the midnight water. The pallid light of the moon turned his skin a perfect white, like the sand, like the moon itself, and made his wet hair as black as the ocean. I stared at the smooth lines of his back, his shoulders, his arms, his neck, the flawless shape of him...

"Holy shit! I'm in the ocean with Edward!" I said, surprised, even though I was writing it.

"AAAH! YOU Again!" Edward used his perfectly sculpted hands to try and cover himself. "How do you keep getting in this story?!? Where is Bella?"

"She's sitting on the bathroom floor, freaking out, and I think she's going to shave her legs again. You know, Edward, I'm an old pro at this. Do you want to do a test run? Just to be sure you don't kill Bella, of course..." I winked at him.

"You are actually rather frightening, and I don't scare easily," Edward said, as he backed away. "And your body is...different...from Bella's. Not as appealing. But there is a confidence there that is intriguing. Perhaps I SHOULD be sure I can control myself with her..." Edward stopped, contemplating.

HA! He was more of a man than he gave himself credit for. Now was my chance. I had to act quickly, before the Cougar venom I slipped in his post-wedding deer kill faded away.

"Ooops!" I gave myself a small cut opening the condom wrapper. (Hey, I don't care how cute Renesmee is, I am DONE carrying ANYONE's spawn, even if he is a superhot sensitive Cullen.) Edward looked suddenly ravenous. He moved toward me, and his breath came rougher now. I dropped my towel to tend to my cut, exposing myself to him. His Michelangelo-like body came to a screeching halt. The clouds re-formed and the angels stopped singing.

"No. Absolutely not. No I don't think so." Edward averted his eyes, started whistling a tune from WWI and looked up at the moon, glowing silver across the rippling water from his abrupt stop. He looked a little sick, actually. Was he okay?

"Edward? Edward are you out there?" Bella called from the house. "Who is out there with you?"

"It's a Cougar, love, nothing to be alarmed about," Edward called. "Less dangerous than werewolves, really." He then whispered to me, "Listen, I think you should go. Do you need the boat?"

"Did you say a Cougar?" Bella called. "Because the whole house is full of them. They're making margaritas and just put The Notebook in the DVD player. Something about being a part of your Team? What should I do with them?"

"Er, let them enjoy their drinks, love, I'll be in in a minute!" He turned to look at me, winced, and then immediately looked at the moon again. "How exactly did all of you get here from Rio?"

"We're peri-menopausal, Edward. The erratic hot flashes make the water a refreshing necessity, and the irrational rages make us capable of things we couldn't do as stable, rational 30-year-olds. The pack is here, Edward. I'm sorry, but I am a part of your world now. I can't live with you, because you are a fictitious character, and I am technically still stalking The Edge, but I can't live without you. But I can't admit to my friends that I love you, because you are, after all, in a YA novel and 17 years younger than me in human form. Thank goodness we have that 'Oh I was actually born in 1901' loophole or I'd be picking out my prison bitch with Mary Kay Letourneau!" I laughed.

Edward sighed a glorious sigh that sounded like my kids leaving for Grandma's and "here's your Cold Stone Gotta Have It" and the bean grinder at Starbucks all wrapped up in one. Oh, if only he could play "Where The Streets Have No Name" on guitar!

"How do I rid myself of you?" he asked, still naked and waist deep in water. I found myself thinking about how his skin would never pucker. And he wouldn't have that George Costanza problem in the water, either.

"Let's do one of your famous compromises - kiss me and I'll leave, I promise."

"And you'll take the Cougar Pack with you?"

"Done. Now get over here, you undead bastard, and kiss me!"

Edward moved toward me, miraculous in his erudite, sensitive vampire glory. He was a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, lettuce wraps at P.F. Changs, cupcakes from Maggie Moos. His sweet breath washed cool and delicious over my face, like a Mega Mocha MooLatte from DQ. This was it...come to Momma....

"JULIE! Are you coming to bed or not!?!" Grr. This was not Edward.

"Damn it, CH, I told you never to bother me when I'm blogging! You ruined the moment anyway. Go stick your head in the freezer for a few minutes and you might get lucky."

Foiled again. But I'll always have Eclipse...

New Moon Cougar

"BELLA?"

Edward's soft voice came from behind me. I turned to see him spring lightly up the porch steps, his hair windblown from running. He pulled me into his arms at once, and then immediately stepped back in alarm.

"Oh no, honey, it's Julie." I set down my coffee mug and van keys.

"Julie? I thought you were Bella. But now I see that you are older and fill out those mom jeans a bit. And your smell is all wrong. You smell...bitter."

"That's what forty years and three kids will do to you, Edward. You should probably cave and change Bella now, before her varicose veins and incontinence kick in. It happens earlier than you think."

"What ARE you?" Edward stood in all of his sparkly glory, hair perfectly disheveled, British accent adequately hidden, and he seemed confused, yet intrigued.

"I don't have those submissive, self-confidence issues your young girlfriend has. I'm a Cougar, and my pack has moved in. There is WAY too much testosterone in Forks, and my coffee group of experienced, hot, perimenopausal mothers has been created to meet the needs of the man beasts in this region. Now give Mommy a kiss, you bloodsucking fool, or I'll spank that perfectly sculpted butt!"

If it's news to you that New Moon opens in theaters this Friday, you might as well stop reading now. It's true, I am one of those crazy people who are obsessed with the Twilight Saga. I've read the entire series, including the Midnight Sun post on Stephenie Meyer's site, multiple times, and Oldest Daughter and I have watched the Twilight movie a number of times, which I hated at first (it's not like the book!) and then grew to love.

I'm going to take issue for a moment with the Twilight Haters. I sent out an e-mail to a bunch of moms I know about doing a group outing to see Twilight, and I got a couple of replies making fun of me for liking a young adult book. Another acquaintance on Facebook commented that she was quitting Breaking Dawn because she couldn't take any more, and a couple of people (including me) commented that she shouldn't quit now, she needed closure, and another woman jumped on and said, "I didn't read the books and I'm glad I didn't, because from what my students tell me, they are really bad and young girls shouldn't be reading them. What a horrible thing for people to follow."

To these people, I say SUCK IT.

First, why anyone would make fun of someone for reading a book, any book, is beyond me. Oh, by all means, go back to your Dancing With the Stars and Nutty Bars (Nutty Bars...yum) while I READ something. But the people who are ribbing me don't bother me, because I am never above giving someone a hard time about something. It's the chick who gives a book review and opinion on a BOOK SHE NEVER READ! I bet she's great in bed. "I am not trying that because I heard it's dumb. And I heard orgasms are overrated. And I won't kiss you because I heard bacteria causes H1N1. Why don't we just not have sex and I'll tell everyone you're inadequate?"

Second, over 20 million readers just might be on to something. And the Twilight movie alone grossed over $380 million so far. So I'll take solace in the fact that I am not alone in thinking there is something to this that isn't just screaming teeny-boppers.

Third, Edward is perfect. Women love him because he is educated, artistic, hot, protective, and has the appropriate amount of self-loathing most men are missing. Am I a New Moon Cougar? Jacob/Taylor seems a little young and green for my conscience, but my friend Liz and I had the Edward/Rob discussion a couple of weeks ago.
ME: "So I would say the Edge is top on my list, and probably Seth Meyers, and Bradley Cooper is pretty hot, Vince Vaughn is sort of off the list now..."
LIZ: "What about Robert Pattinson?"
ME: "Well, he's cute, but he's only 23, so it would be weird."
LIZ: "But he's cute."
SILENCE. WE SIP OUR WINE.
LIZ: "I wouldn't kick him out of bed."
ME: "Okay, if he asked, I would help him out. Because it would be like community service. And he IS British. And legal."
LIZ: "Barely. But I'd do him."
ME: "CH isn't going to like this."

So go enjoy New Moon. Because it's ENTERTAINMENT. It's Fun with a side of popcorn. Cougars unite, and get down with your teeny bopper self. (But if you scream while I'm trying to hear the dialogue, I will shove Milk Duds up your nose.)

A friend turned me on to Jen Lancaster's books a few months ago, and I've never turned back. She is absolutely hysterical, and she too is obsessed with Twilight. Her post yesterday about New Moon made my day: www.jennsylvania.com

The song playing is my fave from the New Moon soundtrack (yes, I have it, but I don't have the action figures, so I still have my pride.) Happy New Moon!