|Posted by A.M. Wright on June 26, 2015 at 2:15 PM|
No one should be around me when I’m reading.
Or when I’m watching TV shows that specifically interest me.
Or when I’m listening to music.
I’m a mess. A literal pile of feelings, all around limb-flailing, and choked laughter intermixed with ugly gurgling noises. It’s like my amusement is trying to escape at the same moment that my overall excitement rises, forcing the two together like ketchup and onions. If that sounds awfully unattractive or magnetically appealing, then I would have to try and understand why.
I thought about this the other night. Recently I’ve been rereading some of the old books I had previously purchased on my Kindle. This leads into the later parts of the night and the earliest parts of the morning. Perfect Chemistry, Forget You, Lily, and Cross My Heart…plus Twilight a few fair weeks back, have all been part of this exceptionally long episode of “fangirling”. If you don't know what that is, then this defintion is courtesy of Urban Dictionary:
v. 1. the reaction a fangirl has to any mention or sighting of the object of her "affection". These reactions include shortness of breath, fainting, highpitched noises, shaking, fierce head shaking as if in the midst of a seizure, wet panties, endless blog posts, etc.
They also provide examples, just in case the application of the "verb" is lost on anyone. Case in point, I was totally fangirling over this scene in which both of my favorite characters totally touched fingertips.
It only sounds terrible, I promise! It’s also so much fun. Especially when you need to work yourself out of a reading slump.
Anyways, I get to parts that are beyond cheesy and so blunt that I don’t miss the heavy weight of words in some of my favorite reads. Perfect Chemistry is my guiltiest pleasure. I think the moment that the two main characters finally kissed I snorted, giggled, and choked on my own happiness (Fangirling). Terrible, right? At exactly 12:01 AM I texted my best friend, who had suggested the book a couple years back, and informed her that I was rereading it.
“Awful and cheesy,” are the exact words I used. I hoped I hadn’t woken her up…not that I asked.
In any case, I started it earlier that day and finished it up around 12:30 AM (Not that I'm bragging, but hey...). The next day was worse. I started Cross My Heart in the morning and finished it in the afternoon. This time I chewed down my thumb until it was finished. Definitely a step up in quality! It would illicit similar reactions. A hand touch, some silly conversation, or a tense scene between the characters shattered my composure. It’s why I kept my door shut. I wouldn’t wish my private behavior on anyone except my dog, who cannot judge me or suggest that I go outside for some sunshine.
Television or music has the same hold.
I just…I get really into it.
There is but one explanation: All of those wonderful adventures those characters have had in their respective worlds, the things they experienced in highs-and-lows, well I’ve been with them the whole time (Whether they want me there or not is ridiculous since they don't exist).
I get lost in the fiction, but I eventually come back. Especially when the time is closer to 3 AM than I would like.
My genuine hope is that there is someone out there who can relate to this late night gag-fest of giggling; cringing over your own behavior because even though no one else is around you're highly aware of how embarrassing it really is. I try not to read around my family. Or watch my shows around them...music, too. Weird as I am, I can't expect them to understand why my favorite characters are caught up in a love triangle that's been battered down with pre-teen high school drama. Teen angst, boyfriends over manicures, etc, etc. There's an entire formula (math included) that explains the make up of YA fiction.
"I love you, I loved you the day you cornered me in a public bathroom scene because you couldn't have waited until I walked out you crazy leading lady!"
It leaves me breathless. Geeky, bookish breathlessness brought on by supressed giggles at midnight.
I am an absolute mess.