I only began watching True Blood a month ago. Try not to die of shock. We don’t have cable and the vampires didn’t sparkle. And I honestly didn’t know if I could handle another take on vampire life. Because seriously people, they don’t exist. Unlike zombies.
But Scott took the plunge. And I found his computer irresistible while I was supposed to be on my Mac, writing. I began watching over his shoulder. And I could probably point out the sucky blog posts from those nights.
So I’m working my way through the first season, but True Blood is currently in its fourth (yes, I had to look that up) season so I can still use Twitter on Sunday nights because I have no idea what the cool kids are talking about. I can’t even remember the main characters names. Snooki? Nope. It’s Sookie. (I don’t watch Jersey Shore either.) And who knows if Sookie will be eaten by season two anyway? Oh wait, she’s still in the cast & characters lineup on the HBO website. Total spoiler.
Anyway, I am loving the show, albeit slowly. Except for feeling like I moved to the wrong neighborhood.
And now I realize where I’m going with this.
I want to be a character on True Blood.
I’m going to keep the name Alex because, like a dog, it’s the only name I’ll respond to. I really want to be fast but also be able to hang out during the day (sleeping in a pile of dead leaves is NOT for me). And I’d love to shape-shift. But into inanimate objects. Like my iPhone.
I still need a fatal flaw. And big boobs. Or an accent. Not my Yankee accent peppered with y’alls. Something exotic. Like Staten Island. Or Quebec.
And Ratchet Dog will be my sidekick. But he’ll just be a plain old vampire dog. With barks that wake up the dead.
I’m definitely going to have to move though. Because my neighbors don’t seem to have any superpowers at all. Unless being normal suddenly becomes AWESOME.
Normal Blood: The Boring Account Of Alex Blogging In Virginia About Her Neighbors Never Eating Each Other’s Brains Or Biting Each Other.
Oh crap, that’s kind of my blog already.