I think it takes the summer time and all of this time away from school for me to get interested in blogging again. Try as I might work on a personal writing project in between being a full-time mom, a full-time homemaker, school projects for next year, I have been sucked into a phenomenon called The Vampire Diaries. If you haven't seen the series (whomever you may be!), look it up. Google's a wonderful invention. First of all, I am a believer in the old school vampire. No sparkles. No sunlight. Pasty-white skin. Weird accent. Sometimes they're sexy and sometimes they're old with bad hair. I did my best to accept the even hotter version of the 21st century vamp, but couldn't do Meyer's sparkly beings that could survive sunlight even if it was in a rainy climate of Washington state. But here came along Netflix and seasons of this show that screamed Watch Me! I put on my Alice hat and took the Watch Me bottle. The Stefan vampire was cute and his brother Damon was even cuter. Deeper into the show, I noticed there was a distinct character issue Stefan had with the love of his life, Elena Gilbert. Every emotional, physical, spiritual, break-a-nail-ial problem Elena had, Stefan was right there with his hand on her neck and cheek with a breathy question of, "Are you okay?" Elena is confronted by her doppelganger. "Are you okay?" Elena drops a pencil and the lead breaks. "Elena. Are you ... O. Kay?"
Anyway, I'm having fun with the soapy drama, but I'm sure I'm not supposed to laugh and giggle.