Apparently I Repel The Undead Too...

How a conversation would go between my best friend and me if he was a vampire:

Me (terrified): “AAAAAAAaaaaaa……”

Him (holding head in pain): “Stop that screaming! I have super-sensitive hearing as a result of being an undead sex god.”

Me (terror subsiding, replaced by curiosity): “….aaahhhh!!!!....Wait. What does the hearing have to do with being a sex god?”

Him (trying to look superior, but a little uncertain): “UNDEAD sex god. And it’s one of the perks.”

Me (in full-fledged nerd-mode): “How would you even know you’re a sex god? You just came back from the dead an hour ago. Scaring the crap out of me, I might add, since I was mourning your supposed death and whatnot.”

Him (annoyed): “Gee. Thanks. That’s touching. And it’s a given. Vampires have undead sexual magnetism. We HAVE to be sex gods.”

Me (logically): “Uh-huh. Or vampires could just use their hypno-crap to CONVINCE people that they’re sex gods.”

Him (completely abandoning all pretence at logic): “Oh for…! I FEEL sexier!”

Me (moving into super-geek mode): “That’s another thing. Vampires don’t cry. Don’t pee. Don’t poop. Don’t bleed. No bodily functions, basically. So how can they …you know, get it up? To do stuff?”

Him (looking heavenward for patience): “We just can! We don’t ask questions about it!”

Me (skeptical): “Riiiiiight. Oh, wait, so if you do it with a live person, then would that person be a necrophiliac?”

Him (rolling eyes): “That’s not very original, I’m sure others have asked that question.”

Me (not giving up): “Yes, but have they gotten an answer?”

Him (grinning hopefully): “Probably not a verbal one. Maybe a practical demonstration.”

Me (rolling MY eyes): “Hmm. Yeah, that’s not going to work.”

Him (whining): “Not even with the hypno-crap?”

Me (my turn to be annoyed): “I can’t believe you’re dead and still trying get in my pants!”

Him (aggrieved): “It’s UNdead!”

Me (curious again): “And that’s another thing. How come you’re not decomposing? Why aren’t your bits and pieces rotting and falling off?”

Him (horrified): “You keep my bits and pieces out of this! Of course I’m not decomposing, I’m not some common zombie!”

Me (even more curious): “So how come zombies decompose but vampires don’t?”

Him (almost crying with annoyance): “ I DON’T KNOW!! I’ve only been back from the dead for an hour!”

Me (oblivious to his mental anguish): “If a vampire and a zombie had to, you know, do it…would something rot and fall off?”

Him (with a mixture of awe and horror): “It’s amazing that you are even more disgusting than the prospect of drinking human blood.”

Me (blushing): “Awww, you’re sweet.”


So in a fit of boredom, my friend and I were talking about my vampire fixation, and went through this hypothetical scenario. The above conversation is actually ours.

End result, he decided that if he DID come back from the dead as a vampire, he’d kill me just to shut me up. And wouldn’t drink my blood, because he’s pretty sure there’s something seriously wrong with me.

Hmph.

Fictionally Speaking...

… I get around a lot. I have a male harem. Young, old, in-between. Hot, fugly, in-between. American, British, Cuban, who cares? Age, religion, country of origin and sexual preference are no concern…that's the nice thing about fantasizing about movie stars/literary characters/TV vampires…you don't let little things like their boyfriends get in the way…unless you decide to lust after the boyfriend too (but so far I'm a little too tame for that).

Top 10 Men For Whom I Would Most Definitely Give Up Being A Nun (which, let's face it, I practically am right now. Except for poker. And Coke.)

1. Spike

Mmmm, how do I lust thee, let me count the ways…Spike has definitely been the most enduring of my crushes. Something about the platinum hair, British accent ("Bollocks!" sigh), six pack, black-painted nails and leather duster, snarky-exterior-with-soft-centre just called out to me. Oh, and the whole being-a-vampire-and-loving-the-slayer-even-without-a-soul-and-then-getting-a-soul-for-her thing. Not even finding out that James Marsters (the actor who portrayed him) was American, brunette and (sadly) human could temper my adoration. And don't even get me started on the epic line "I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it". Pure yum.

And did I mention the six pack?

2. Mr. Darcy

EVERY woman who's ever read 'Pride and Prejudice' has put the book down and squealed "He loves her! He loved her all along! Eeee!" Or, okay, maybe that was just me. But really…stiff-upper-lip, stern, reserved Fitzwilliam Darcy's verbal sparring with Elizabeth, his "rescue" of Lydia (can't say I agreed with everything, but I suppose it was the times)….how could anyone not love this man? And no, R, he isn’t a pansy.

I preferred him to Edward Rochester in 'Jane Eyre'….very broody and dashing, yes, but the mad wife locked in the attic just got minus marks from me.

3. Michael Moscovitz…

…from 'The Princess Diaries', or Jesse from the 'Mediator' series, or Rob from the '1-800 Where Are You' series, or Will from the 'Avalon High' series, or Cooper from the 'Size 12' series …all of Meg Cabot's heroes seem to have that Byronic, Darcy-ish quality that is so damn appealing. Most of all Michael Moscovitz, though…the way he puts up with Mia's various neuroses, the lop-sided smile, the lingering scent on his neck that sends Mia's senses reeling….no matter that I'm well into my 20s, I still love reading these books purely for Michael's no-nonsense, pragmatic approach to romance and Mia's sensory-overload reaction to him. And all the neuroses, most of which I sadly manage to identify with. It's like Ally McBeal all over again.

As for Jesse…who cared that he was a ghost? One 'Querida' from him and I think my spine tingled as much as Suze's did. Rob may have been a felon, but his intensity and regard for Jess always appealed to me, even when he was just ruffling her hair or putting his motorcycle helmet on her. And Will …okay, granted, the whole reincarnation-of-King-Arthur thing is more of a stretch than usual, but just the description of the timbre of his voice, the blue of his eyes..and the book interspersed with lines from 'The Lady of Shallot'...mmm. Oh, and Cooper Cartwright, with his ever-present stubble, and constantly rescuing Heather, and eschewing a boy-band career to be a private detective and live in his gay grandfather's New York brownstone, and always bringing Heather fried chicken and cheese and milkshakes…

Whatever world Meg Cabot was inhabiting, where she found these men? I want a one-way ticket there.

4. Angel

The original broody vampire-with-a-soul, skulking in the shadows and looking all tortured. Can't say I much fancied him in the 'Buffy' realm (except when he turned evil as Angelus…mmmm boy, there was just something about him that oozed sex appeal then. On a side note, I should probably get my head examined). But in his series set in L.A., he really came into his own with the shades-of-grey universe he constantly seemed to tightrope through. And he actually developed a sense of humour! So important when battling the denizens of hell on a daily basis, while also dealing with psychotic sires/exes, potentially demonic babies and your own sordid past over 253 years. Of course, as Angel, he does face that pesky curse that has him living virtually like a monk…

But hey, at least he isn't a 117-year-old virgin vampire. I swear I can't think of anything more lame than that.

5. Morelli

I would lump both of Janet Evanovich's sex-god characters in one paragraph, but that would be doing them a grievous disservice. I give you (actually no, I don't, I want him all to myself) Joseph Morelli, precocious kid - turned horny rebellious teen - turned horny dangerous felon - turned New Jersey Cop who has eyes only for Stephanie Plum (the protagonist in the Numbers series). Ladies and gentlemen (if you're interested), Janet Evanovich paints a mind-numbingly sexy picture of Morelli as 6 feet of hard muscle with a gun strapped to his side, genuine Italian temper mixed with bedroom eyes that sound yummier than tiramisu… and he loves dogs. And he doesn't shy away from the L-word! How perfect is that?

6. Ranger

A.k.a. Carlos Manoso, a.k.a. Super Bounty Hunter, a.k.a. the other man in Stephanie Plum's life (and just HOW lucky can one woman get? I know she doesn't actually exist, but I'm still insanely jealous of her!). A strong, silent, black-clothed "whisper on the wind", he's ex-Navy and possibly still-mercenary, and has his own moral code that may or may not mesh with the current legal system; but he does what it takes to keep Stephanie safe, even if is means assassinating the various psychos who find their way to her apartment. Very prone to planting tracking devices on her, replacing the dozens of cars she manages to get blown up and occassionally backing her against a wall to kiss her senseless. Cuban-American with mocha-tinted skin, black hair and unreadable black eyes. Again with the muscles and the guns, but he's a man of few words and gestures, and, according to Stephanie, the only time she knows what he's thinking is when his tongue is in her mouth.

I could live with that.

7. Diesel

I WISH Evanovich would feature him regularly in the Numbers series instead of limiting him to the Between-the-Numbers novels, but I guess Stephanie's love life is complicated enough without the constant presence of a knee-tremblingly seductive uber-bounty hunter who's alternately boyish, persuasive, playful and dangerous.

And he has dimples!

8. Jace Wayland

What is it with me and tortured, lost boys (I foresee years of therapy ahead)? Cassandra Clare's character from her 'Mortal Instruments' trilogy bears striking resemblances to her characterization of Draco Malfoy in the Draco trilogy she used to write way back in her pre-published-author fanfiction days. And I love them both. Both fighting the nature-versus-nurture battle against evil fathers, both battling their own demonic blood, both flippant and angry and cat-like and adept with swords and words alike.

The platinum hair, steely eyes and insolent smirks don't hurt either.

9. Eric Sinclair

MaryJanice Davidson is another one to give the chick-lit world a monster to drool over: Eric Sinclair, Armani-clad King of the Vampires. He's 80-odd years old, cool, suave, detached, loyal and savage when it counts; but still human enough to weep over his Queen's body when he fears she's dead. Also have to admit that the fact that he buys her Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahniks is a big BIG selling point. And he's not gay!

10. Eric Northman

I just realized there's a disturbing number of vampires on this list…but I can’t help it. Charlaine Harris's character in the Southern Vampire Mysteries is pure sin personified, and he knows it. While his arrogance and cock-sureness (in every way possible) could be a potential turn-off, his bafflement over his purely "human" attachment to mortal waitress Sookie Stackhouse, however, makes him just that little bit more adorable.

And he looks like a Norse God, but that doesn't matter much, right?

The nice thing about me is, I may be certifiably insane, but I don't mind sharing :)

Alphabetical list of reasons why I am a total spaz:

1. A cute guy smiled at me in the crappy office cafeteria. ::Snap:: went the plastic spoon and ::whumpf:: went the chicken manchurian and hakka noodles all over my new white shirt. The front of which is now neon orange.
2. Boobs…or rather, my inability to keep them in place (although, thankfully, they are always covered. Pam Anderson I am not). Jogging bras don't help when I'm exercising, and I've given myself AND the 18-year-old on the treadmill next to me a black eye on more than one occasion.
3. Coke…cola that is, and my…shall we say…affinity for it? Affection? My friends would say it was more of an obsession. But I'm getting better! I only drink 2 cans a day now (5 on weekends), and my memorabilia is down to 1 Coke-can replica glass pencil holder, a t-shirt, and a porcelain thimble with the Coke logo. I'm practically normal!
4. Dopey eyes that have caused more than one boss to look at me suspiciously and say "We conduct random drug tests here, you know…"
5. Epiphanies in the middle of poker sessions. When I'm not even drunk. So I will then expostulate about random insanity when, y'know, all anyone wants is for me to shut up and put in my 2 rials.
6. Food…any and all food…but especially Bombay food in Bombay restaurants surrounded by Bombay people…
7. Girls…well, the lack thereof in my life at the moment. Not that I swing that way (most of the time). But female company would be nice. A girl can only take so much of being around a bunch of guys with their …hysterically rude jokes…lack of bitchiness…amazingly yummy cologne…maybe I'll retract my complaint…
8. Hee-haw…my friends' description of the way I laugh. Which, I suppose, is better than being told to go swing from a tree with the other howling monkeys (by the guy I'm crushing on, no less)
9. Idiocy…especially when it comes to men. But I've learnt my lesson…never date anyone who is a combination of the following: shorter than me, thinner than me, with a bigger ego than me (well, bigger than the 7 continents combined).
10. Juvenile pursuits. But I can't help it if I'm a 26-year-old who still occassionally likes to re-read her Sweet Valleys (and Archies) and watch Jonny Quest (and Tom & Jerry) and eat orange ice-lollies (which are sooo passe, Galaxy Chocobar premiums are THE sophisticated ice-cream to suck on, dontcha know dahling?)
11. Klutziness….refer to points no. 1 and 15
12. Lameness in general, which would be why I am making this list…
13. Men and my complete inability to understand them, even when ALL the close friends I've ever had have been guys. But no, they'll do something asinine, as they are wont to do, and everytime it'll shock me!
14. Name…my name, I mean. It miiiight have been the height of cool when I was named more than a quarter of a century ago (although I doubt it) but now you throw a rock and you'll hit 20 chicks with my name. Don't even get me started on my nicknames. They bring to mind a fat boy, an African warrior tribe, a Baywatch alumnus and a teddy bear. What any of them have to do with each other, I'll never know.
15. Over-the-top hand gestures when I speak. You'd think it would be impossible to be narrating a story and knock over an entire refridgerator. You'd be wrong.
16. Poker…and my utter inability to play it safe. So in the past couple of weeks I've won big. But will I take my money and spend it on shoes like a sensible woman? Of course not. Sensible? What a strange word in an alien language…
17. Queens…drag queens to be more specific. Anybody else but me out there who finds them strangely…interesting? Not like that, but just…I wonder what they look like in the morning, and are they happier not being actual women, thereby missing out on PMS and horrific cramps?
18. Ringtones…I HATE cellphone ringtones…those things should be banned! They're SO annoying (yes, even the one that plays "Sweet Child O' Mine"). What, I ask you, is wrong with putting it on vibrate mode??
19. Spike. The love of my life. You know, bleached-blonde-six-pack-sporting-"bloody hell"-saying-leather-wearing vampire from Buffy the Vampire Slayer? I heart him.
20. Telling myself that I CAN lose 5 kgs. When, on a zillion-calorie-a-day diet, it clearly ain't gonna happen.
21. Understanding the basic mechanics of anything to do with technology. Yeah, I don't possess that.
22. Vampires. Love 'em. Not that I'm a wanna-be-Goth-with-far-too-much-eyeliner or anything that random, but if it's got anything to do with Buffy, or Angel, or Anne Rice, or Laurell Hamilton, or MaryJanice Davidson, or Charlaine Harris, or God help me, even Stephenie Meyer...I've been there done that and bought the t-shirt :)
23. Wanting to be a librarian…but liking money and expensive shoes faaar too much to actually go ahead with it.
24. X…man, this is a tough one. X-treme fear that all my lovely guy friends will end up with horrible girlfriends and wives who will make it their life's ambition to keep me away from my friends (as I already see happening with some of the married ones)? No? Too paranoid? Damn, I shoulda put that under 'P'.
25. Yennada? Yepdi irka ma? Spell 'moon' with a yem-yo-yet-another-yo-and-a-yem-after that. I may be half-South-Indian, but man it's SUCH fun to rip apart a southie accent!
26. Z..z…z…uh, I dunno….'zaps' is 'spaz' backwards. That should tell you loads about my state of mind!