no. (roses_rejoice) wrote,

  • Mood:

Confusion in Time.

I was planning to catch up on Francesca Lia Block's Weetzie Bat series right after I caught up on the Sandman series, which I will do after I catch up on the Jim Woodring. I just looked at the new Weetzie title, Necklace of Kisses, on Amazon because I'm likely going to have some credits there soon as I dump my copious pots of unwrapped change dating back to 2001 into the local Coinmonster.

How did Weetzie Bat get to be 40 already? I always thought of her as significantly younger than myself. When I first heard of her (via the Wash Post Book Review section, back when I still bothered to read it), I was at least 25, and she was still in high school. When I first read the book about her, I was a very tired thirtysomething who had pretty much given up on life as Fun or Romantic but didn't want to be anything like the thirtysomethings on the TV show thirtysomething, which I watched in sheer utter horror----the only things I found attractive were the main characters' house, which I jealously coveted because we couldn't afford anything like that here, and the Evil Ex-CIA Boss, Miles, who I thought was the ONLY attractive man on the show, the rest all being a bunch of namby-pamby emo wimps who deserved to get fired and/or divorced and I was secretly glad when one ended up D-E-D ded in the best Big Chill style. But I digress. The point is, I was more into reading about Weetzie Bat, but she was like a much younger cousin or The Daughter I Would Have Had or Something.

And now suddenly we're the same age +/- 2 yrs? W'happen? Did those old Madeleine L'Engle books I bought in the same batch with Weetzie from Borders (back when I still bothered to go to Borders and even thought of it as a cool place to shop) bring on a tesseract?

I am perplexed.
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