Thursday, July 28, 2005
What it must be like to be a vampire
When I was in elementary school, my grandmother gave me a full-length wall mirror. Everywhere I have gone since then, that mirror has gone, too. When we got to Germany 2 years ago, Fred hung the mirror on the side of our closet, which is clearly visible as you approach our bedroom from the hall.
The mirror left with the rest of the household goods way back in June, but every time I climb the stairs to the second floor and turn left towards our bedroom, I expect to see myself in the mirror that is no longer there. I think I could live here for another 2 years and never get over the mild shock that I experience each time, when I catch myself wondering: "Hey! What happened to me? Where did I go?" I can only imagine that this is what it must be like to be a vampire, only without the bloodsucking parts.
Speaking of vampires, I got a wonderful surprise the other day from my cousin Julie and my Uncle Johnny! (No, they are not vampires. Or at least I don't think they are.) They wanted to send me something to amuse me on our long journey back to the Motherland, so they sent me a copy of The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. In case you live in a box and haven't heard, that book is the new Dracula tale.
I'm very eager to dive into my new book, but I'm forcing myself to wait a while. There is very little that is worse than setting off on a 10-hour plane ride with only 50 pages to go in a 650+ page book.
I'm also a little nervous. The last time I read a vampire story, I was in the seventh grade and it was Salem's Lot by Stephen King. I slept with the covers pulled up to my chin until I was well into college. Also, the one bit of wisdom I remember from that book is that a vampire cannot come into your home without an invitation. Every night before I fell asleep, I would silently revoke any and all invitations I might have issued that day, unaware that the recipient was a blood-sucking ghoul.
So, Johnny and Julie, thank you so much for the book! I can't wait to get started. And if I'm wearing a necklace of garlic next time you see me, at least you'll know why.
The mirror left with the rest of the household goods way back in June, but every time I climb the stairs to the second floor and turn left towards our bedroom, I expect to see myself in the mirror that is no longer there. I think I could live here for another 2 years and never get over the mild shock that I experience each time, when I catch myself wondering: "Hey! What happened to me? Where did I go?" I can only imagine that this is what it must be like to be a vampire, only without the bloodsucking parts.
Speaking of vampires, I got a wonderful surprise the other day from my cousin Julie and my Uncle Johnny! (No, they are not vampires. Or at least I don't think they are.) They wanted to send me something to amuse me on our long journey back to the Motherland, so they sent me a copy of The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. In case you live in a box and haven't heard, that book is the new Dracula tale.
I'm very eager to dive into my new book, but I'm forcing myself to wait a while. There is very little that is worse than setting off on a 10-hour plane ride with only 50 pages to go in a 650+ page book.
I'm also a little nervous. The last time I read a vampire story, I was in the seventh grade and it was Salem's Lot by Stephen King. I slept with the covers pulled up to my chin until I was well into college. Also, the one bit of wisdom I remember from that book is that a vampire cannot come into your home without an invitation. Every night before I fell asleep, I would silently revoke any and all invitations I might have issued that day, unaware that the recipient was a blood-sucking ghoul.
So, Johnny and Julie, thank you so much for the book! I can't wait to get started. And if I'm wearing a necklace of garlic next time you see me, at least you'll know why.
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