i believed in folk lore and made wages for peanut butter sandwiches.

i'm sitting here in my art history lecture wishing with all i have that i could be back in bed.

my mind has been racing these past few days, with a combination of schoolwork, pre-holiday excitement, a sudden envy of young hollywood, and general confusion at the weather, due dates of my assignments, art history, etc.

it all started last week when something big happened. something major. something i swore would never happen. late last wednesday night, after "studying" for my "quiz" in my art history recitation, i did it. i watched 'twilight.' i was suddenly overcome with a cavalcade of emotions. it was sexy. it was horrible. it was brilliant. it was bizarre. but whatever it was, people are all over it.

all of a sudden, after living 21 years in a relatively un-obsessive bubble, i am now very intrigued by the notion of fangirldom. this 'twilight' thing is unparalleled in my recent memory. i know boy bands were big when i was small, but that level of fanaticism wasn't as prevalent in quiet little peterborough. we'd just sit around spinning "black and blue" and occasionally watch an episode of "making the video." but now, in this big, gaping city with its millions of residents and very accessible suburbs, i am in the hotbed of marketing and fandom aimed directly at the 15 year-old that dwells somewhere in my gut. and she's there. the katelyn that wishes slightly that she cared about anything as much as some of these girls care about 'twilight.' the katelyn that wishes that it wasn't shameful to be slightly intrigued by this shitty vampire romance novel, or to have a secret love for the squeaky cleanliness of taylor swift's infectious lyrics, or to be entertained by the bright, sparkly colors, and comical chipmunk cheeks starring in 'hannah montana.'

i'm pretty sure the word "tween" wasn't invented until after i was one, but that culture has always fascinated me. perhaps it's because i was sent careening into my adolescence with very little grasp of who i was or what i liked, armed with nothing but a striped gap t-shirt and a set of braces that could take down an empire. it was a time of so much embarrassment, of so much ridiculousness, so many tears. but now, there's facebook (myspace is so 2006), and twitter, and hair straighteners, and the jonas brothers and a whole culture, a whole marketing system dedicated to that age group the way it wasn't dedicated to mine. maybe i'm bitter. maybe i'm wishing that i could wash away all those years of unpleasantness. but whatever the reason, i am both fascinated and fearful of fangirls. plain and simple.

for the past week, skirball has been playing host to the japanese-american musical "talk like singing." it is, i assure you, a horrible, but brilliant butchery of the notion of american musical theatre. not the point. the point is, it stars the japanese equivalent of justin timberlake, shingo katuri. shingo is the front-man for the intensely popular boy band, SMAP (stands for: sports music assemble people or.. super modern artistic performance; i've heard both). it just keeps getting better, right? anyway, SMAP has been around since 1991 and their popularity in japan rivals that of the beatles at their peak. there have been masses of fangirls awaiting shingo's arrival and exit every night at the stage door, with their cameras, cell phones that miraculously call japan at all hours, signs, flowers, gift baskets, etc. but last night was extra-special. three other members of SMAP came to see the show. after sneaking them in when the lights went down, they made their presence quite known at the end, waving and cheering before making a quick exit.

the rest of the house cleared, most wanting to wait for shingo at the others at the stage door, booking it there to get as close as possible, but one girl remained seated in the house. as i approached her, i realized she'd been sitting, unmoving for a solid 5 minutes with a handkerchief over her nose. was she bleeding? was she sick? i quietly asked if she needed help. no answer. just a shaking hand slowly placing the handkerchief back in her bag. finally, after staring at her for half a minute, one of the japanese tech guys came over and asked her if she was alright. she nodded and slowly stood up and left the theatre. he said she wasn't sick. just.. overwhelmed by the whole experience.

it was beatlemania again. but i had never been privvy to beatlemania. before the show i'd walked by shingo backstage. we made eye conatact and smiled weakly at each other. how many millions of people would have killed to be me?

after the show, ian had those of us left over go upstairs and be crowd control at the stage door. due to the presence of the other SMAP members, NYU security needed backup. so we went and stood in front of the adoring fans who had crowded the sidewalk and were well into laguardia place. after nearly an hour, shingo and another member left. some assistant had hailed a cab and brought him up right next to the crowd. the look on this cab driver's face when he saw the throngs of screaming girls and how they beaned luke on the head, smacked us around with their signs, and flashed our faces with their camera bulbs. shingo didn't look around him, he just booked it to the car. the girls converged. they started again with the flashing, the sign waving, the screaming. all the while this poor cabbie had no idea what the fuck was going on or who the fuck was in his backseat.

it was mania.

the point is, i have been trying to dissect this notion of american fangirldom (japanese is a whole other animal) and i have realized the following: at the age when one is considered a "tween," you don't have much. your computer, your scheduled social time, and school are all you have as links to the outside world. this is a time, mind you, when most teenage girls are pissed at their parents, want more than anything to go out and do their own thing, but have no actual means of doing so. you're too old for the lame, childish stuff, but you're too young for the cool, badass, older stuff. by the age of 16, you can drive. by 18 you've found some way to procure some alcohol, you're into parties and "relationships" and the rest. but at those ages down low on the teenager totem pole, you take what you are handed. when i was that age, we were given britney and christina and jessica and n*sync and bsb and a whole bunch of shitty movies. no wonder we've bred a generation of sluts and heartbreakers. that was a time before anyone felt ironic about the neuvo-youth of the 21st century. it was before tina fey busted the mean girls. it was before the entertainment industry realized that there was, in these lost children, and un-tapped marketing source and if they could just gear some of this shit at them, they'd make millions. and it worked. this is a time when individuality isn't viewed as cool. the pack mentality is so much stronger here than in high school, where everyone tries to figure their shit out and plan for a future with like-minded individuals. when you have discovered very little about the world, you take what you are given and absorb it for what it is. it's a good thing. not a bad thing. i think it's keeping kids from growing up too fast. they can be in love with the hottie vampire. they can party in the usa. they're not getting drrty or becoming a slave 4 anyone. that's what's important.

that was so much longer than i expected it to be.
dude. this blog thing works.


you don't have to suffer to be a poet. adolescence is enough suffering for anyone. - john ciardi