YAY: The "Twilight" Series

The day before most of my department departed for a holiday vacation -- a much-deserved holiday vacation, I might add -- our SVP sat all of us down individually for a talk. One of my "instructions" for over the break was to not read anything for work. I would venture to say that the bulk of my extra-curricular reading these days is, well, curricular. I'm not saying that none of it is good or that I don't enjoy it, but sometimes it's nice to read something just for me.

Enter my sister and her vampire love. Katy has been reading books about vampires since we were children. In fact, I would venture to say that when she wasn't secretly raiding my mom's closet and stealing her Harlequin novels, she was reading books about vampires. She and I have very different tastes. For instance, just today, we went into Waldenbooks, where I was hoping to look at the new Wally Lamb book. On the shelf as we entered was a book simply titled "DISEASE." I had scarcely seen it before I heard "OOOOOO!" and Katy had snatched it up to flip through and point out the sad picture of the "pony" suffering from "stallion sickness."

So, needless to say, when she first recommended that I pick up Stephenie Meyer's "Twilight," I rolled my eyes. It was fun to laugh at all of the t-shirts in the window at Hot Topic and read my friends' comments on the insanity of the online fandom experience. One afternoon, though, I was invited by a new friend to see the movie with her and I went. I didn't think it was the greatest thing ever committed to celluloid, but it intrigued me enough to borrow my sister's copy of the book. And purchase the soundtrack. And throw a more-than-cursory glance at that Hot Topic window.

That book, along with its three door-stop-sized sequels, provided me my literary amusement for Christmas 2008. I had read mixed reviews of "Breaking Dawn," which I always catch myself referring to as "Breaking Bad," which brings to mind billboards featuring Brian Cranston standing in front of a trailer in his drawers. And that is not an image I want brought to mind. (No offense, BriCran!) 

I was mildly spoiled for what happened in the final book, given that it was pretty hard to avoid on Live Journal. Despite that, I rather enjoyed the series. My main problem with the first two books was this all-encompassing love that Bella seemed to have for Edward (and vice versa). The epic, catatonia and cliff-jumping-worthy love that she could not live without made me throw up in my mouth a little bit. Then I reminded myself that they are teenagers and that I am a bitter old shrew who would let her hair down like Rapunzel if she didn't have split ends and there weren't bars on her bedroom window. After that, I decided just to go with it.

After that decision was made, I was left with only one real problem with the books, particularly the last two. There was so. much. lead-up to the big battles in each of the books. Chapters and chapters of lead-up. When I mentioned the issue to my sister, she finished my sentence for me, assuming that I meant that the conclusions were anti-climactic. That's not really what I meant... It's just that when the characters started talking about the potential consequences of each of the battles, it took forever for said battle to happen. Now, that's probably going to be helpful in the adaptations (which I will be seeing on opening night, okay?), but that was honestly the only thing that bugged me in the entire series.

Okay, scratch that, it took me a relatively long time to deal with Jacob IMPRINTING on Renesmee. I mean, when Edward called him "son," I rolled my eyes so far back into my head that I'm surprised they didn't get stuck. The whole thing just started out squicky, but once I just -- surprise, surprise -- went with it, and accepted that he wasn't imprinting on her in that way (yet), I was able to deal. But seriously. How did Edward not rip Jacob's throat out?! I know, I know... Because Bella never would have forgiven him and the other wolves would have probably cut a bitch.

Aside from that, the only really lingering thoughts I had were: "I still don't understand how a non-living being can knock someone up," and "You don't sleep when you're a vampire? NO THANK YOU." Oh, and thanks to an, um, anatomical question that my cousin brought up at Christmas dinner, I was thinking about the logistics of that, too. Thank you ever so much for that, Lacey.

But back to Edward ripping Jacob's throat out... I had no problem "rooting" for Edward. Edward was an old soul. According to the strange psychic lady outside Johnny Rocket's at Hollywood and Highland, I am an old soul, so I guess I just relate better to him or something. Jacob was sweet and all, but his persistence hit a lot too close to home for me and I just wanted him to shut up and move on. Until the imprinting incident, I thought he was having a little puppy love with Leah, which I found particularly clever for one reason... A blind man in Dallas could see that there was something going on with Charlie and Sue Clearwater (Leah's mom). Jacob would have been Charlie's son-in-law after all! (And Charlie would have had Harry Clearwater's famous fish fry recipe!) But NO. Now Jacob's going to be his grandson-in-law.

(And I'm sorry, despite what I said a few paragraphs back, that's still a little EW.)

One of the complaints that I often hear about "Breaking Dawn" is that everyone gets what they want in the end. Well, what did people expect? In the entire series, I think the only "good" person who died was Irina. And while that one was sad, she was the dillweedess who narced out Renesmee. Bella broke her leg in the first one, but James was killed. Edward's suicide was thwarted and the Cullens were permitted to leave Volterra unharmed (save for having to promise to vampirize Bella) in "New Moon." No good guys perished in the battle to take down Victoria and her band of crazy baby vamps in "Eclipse." So, I don't know, I didn't really find it that shocking that the Cullens all ended up okay at the conclusion of "Breaking Dawn." And frankly, I'd grown to love the characters (especially the Cullens) so much that I didn't want to see a "Deathly Hallows"-esque massacre. Realistic? No. But it's a book about vampires and their werewolf frienemies/future son-in-laws and the girl who lurved them both. I don't think realism necessarily applies to the supernatural.

It's a fun series, guys and gals. I'm anxious to see what Chris Weitz is able to do with New Moon. Actually seeing that scene where the Cullens and Bella are leaving the Volturi as the people are being herded in will probably haunt me for days.

Now that I've finished all of the books, I find myself actually lingering in front of the Hot Topic windows when I pass. Today, the headless mannequin was outfitted in a red tutu with a Team Jacob shirt. I looked at my sister and said, "SERIOUSLY?"

And then we rolled our eyes and laughed.

"Twilight," "New Moon," "Eclipse," and "Breaking Dawn" were all written by Stephenie Meyer and are available on Amazon.com or at your favorite book retailer. The film version of "Twilight" is probably playing at a cinema near you and will be until it falls out of the top ten or comes out on DVD -- whichever comes first.

YAY: Cake.

And not the band Cake, either. Though I have to admit that "No Phone" still has remarkable "earworm" potential.

ODE TO CAKE
By Amanda Mason

Ode to cake,
The days you make,
Better with carbs,
Negating the barbs

You cancel out my walk,
With sprinkles you talk,
You say, "Life is okay,"
And my diet you sway

But I do not care,
For you're better than flair,
With frosting that smiles,
And chocolate for miles

Birthdays are cool,
For them I'm a fool,
Cause for goodness sake,
THERE WILL ALWAYS BE CAKE!!

NAY: Expense Reports Involving Foreign Transactions

Okay, let's be honest here. (And by "let's," I mean me.) This is kind of a lame NAY. The truth is that (a) I wanted to do a "nay," and (b) I wanted that nay to be "Hillary Clinton's Campaign" since her supporters so pissed me off at the DNC thing on Saturday. But, then I heard that she might concede the nomination tonight, so I thought that was an utterly unclassy thing to do. And I am nothing if not classy. (Shut up, Allison.)

So, here I was without my beloved "nay." What's a bored girl with no willpower to work to do? Look around her desk for inspiration! I realized that I need to do expense reports for my bosses and that some of these involved set visits to Canada ("Boston, California"), where film incentives are high and french fries suck, if a recent e-mail from my boss is to be believed. One would think that with all of the French Canadians, the fries would be off the hizzle. But no. Then again, he's currently in Toronto, not Montreal.

Expense reports involving foreign transactions suck for a myriad of reasons. First, the system my company uses requires the user to convert everything, which means entering the exchange rate. This is a problem because the exchange rate changes every day. (This quote, of course, makes me think of Gabby Hoffman's line from Sleepless in Seattle regarding the price of airfare to New York. "Nobody knows! It changes practically every day!") Then, when I look up the exchange rate for a particular date on the Internet, it never matches up with the transaction amount shown on the credit card statement, forcing me to do convoluted mathematics to determine the correct exchange rate.

The second major problem with these things is that one has to wait on the credit card statement to arrive before processing said foreign expenses. That can lead to a huge delay in reimbursement for airfare, hotel, and overpriced lackluster french fries in the airport. Plus, they add their own little foreign transaction fee, which must be accounted for on the expense report. All in all, just one of these little puppies can take up two hours of my day. That's two hours I could be spending on status reports, answering phones, making sure that every person one of my bosses has ever met with, had lunch with, or spoken to on the phone is in his Outlook Contacts, and periodically checking the Television Without Pity message boards for any updates on the upcoming X-Files movie. (Did I just type that out loud?)

Again, I recognize that this is a lame nay. I promise to exercise more discretion in choosing my topics of bitchiness in the future. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a date with a Xerox machine and a dozen restaurant receipts. Oh goodie for me.

YAY: The Cellar Restaurant

Truthfully, I almost started this blog off with a "nay." It's probably the cloudy weather just making me cranky, but I couldn't think of anything that I wanted to speak highly of. But
then K reminded me that we're going to lunch at The Cellar with A and M, and I realized I had my YAY.

The first time I heard about The Cellar, I don't know what I thought it was. I knew it was a bar. I knew people from my office in Century City went over there after work on occasion. But I've been there so many times in the past year that I don't remember my initial impression. Did I think it was The Standard? Or The W? Or, even worse, Skybar? (Yes, I am still bitter about being denied entrance three summers ago.) What I do remember, though, is being surprised to find that it was a cozy little hole-in-the wall joint in the high-rise district that I call my work 'hood. They have a patio area with plenty of seating and heat lamps, which is perfect for when you or your companions want to light up. The indoor seating area has a cozy, British pub-style atmosphere, complete with wing-back chairs and old books lining the shelves on the walls. By night, The Cellar has drink specials, which you can enjoy with yummy tortilla chips and runny salsa. By day, replace "drink" with "lunch" and "tortilla chips" with "bread." (This reminds me of another "YAY" I can do on another day: CARBS.)

I guess you could say that The Cellar is my office's own version of Cheers. Sometimes we want to go where everybody knows our names -- and our drink orders. Waitress Extraordinaire Cristina has a mind like a steel trap. Whenever our group shows up, she walks back into the bar area and returns with our drinks -- without ever having to ask what we're having! She. Just. Knows. She knows what happens when I drink tequila and that once I've had one of my drinks (vanilla vodka and Diet Coke), it's time to switch to straight Diet Coke. She knows that K and C will have "the bucket" (of Coors Light). And that Ka likes rum and Diet Coke with a cherry in it. This woman is like a regular Raymond Babbit without the Asperger's. Or the Y chromosome.

Don't take my word for it... Where else can you hear such comments?

• "I don't know what they do to this tuna, but it's the best tuna melt of my life." - M

• "Anyone who lives with (Mandy) has to be easy!" - Cristina

• "May I have a Diet Coke? And a side of your babies?" - K

In summary, if you are one of the minions living in or near Century City, definitely check this place out. It kicks the ass of X-Bar or Pink Taco (yes, that is what it's called). Don't tell them Mandy sent you - they'll cut you off before you even start drinking.

The Cellar is located at 1880 Century Park East in Los Angeles (90067). Phone: (310) 277-1584.