I came, I saw, I gave a cat call…

If you’ve been with me long here at Cattywampus, you know I have already admitted an embarassing thing.

I’ve been sucked into the Twilight thing somewhat. If you followed that link, you will learn of my hidden shame. That, I am not on Team Edward, but Team Jake. Which when you look at the actor playing Jake’s age, makes me probably a bit perverse in some people’s book. For, that I hold my head in shame…but apparently I am not alone.

Tonight, I attended New Moon in my hometown with my 8-years-younger sister. That’s right. I was one of THOSE people this weekend. Judge me if you must…

Can I just share one thing though? You have not attended an opening weekend of a super hot movie in rural Texas, unless you pull into the mall parking lot, park your car on the last row, and then realize that right across from your car is a farm truck FULLY LOADED WITH LIVE PIGS.

Yes, that’s right folks, someone decided that WILD HOGS could not keep them away from Edward Cullen.

My sister, knowing me all too well, shot me a look and said,

“You’re totally going to put this on your Facebook status, aren’t you?”

To which, I replied, “Well, DUH!!!”

Walking into the mall entrance, my mouth dropped open. There were lines, winding upon lines, winding upon lines of people waiting to see this movie. Really and truly, I can’t think of a movie premiere night even that rivaled it in my life.

Still, as I stood there a full hour before the movie was to start in very uncomfortable-but-stylish heeled black boots, I thought to myself, “What the HELL am I doing here?”  I am a 39-year-old suburban mom, not a 16-year-old teenie with my posse of girlfriends!

And, then I looked around. Yes, there were a fair share of young girls.

But, there were an equal amount of the middle-aged moms there. And also? There were just as many grandmas, a few husbands, and even grandpas! Apparently, sexy vampire stories are all the rage, no matter what the age.

I pondered, while I might get called the dreaded “cougar” for standing in this line, how does that guy standing there with the beer belly, full-on plumber crack pants, and the trucker hat explain himself? And, then I wondered, is he the pig guy from the parking lot?

The movie, in my opinion, was much better than the first, which means when you throw money at young actors after one pretty bad go-round at a flick, they will go take acting lessons and improve a lot. And, more money means the filming will actually improve a great deal too, although a few of the wolf transformation scenes were pretty hokey if you asked me.

And, Sharkboy did not disappoint, my friends. The first scene in which he takes his shirt off, there were huge squeals from the women, girls, and one flamboyantly gay young man sitting directly behind us. I did not squeal. I did not even give a little “whoop,” thank you very much.

I may or may not have looked at my sister and said smoothly, “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout…”

Friends, I call that serious restraint.

But, the best part of the whole movie was the ending. Because as we sat and my sister was being bombarded with cell phone vibrations because our family members were calling to find out WHEN we were going to be at the restaurant for dinner (as IF we were going to get UP during the Volturi scene?), the movie wrapped up what seemed like the last half of the book in the final 10 minutes.

If you’ve read the book, you know what is coming. I didn’t quite know how it was ending, but I knew what to expect. Without spoiling here, it ends with one statement and goes to black.

So, every person who had read the book in the audience began to rise and nod and making their comments to their friends.

But, every person who had not read the book, completely revealed their naivety by letting out huge gasps at the cliff hanger. There was cursing and grumbling and, “I can’t believe they ended it like that” complaints.

Then, one row back the flamboyantly gay young man stood up and yelled loudly,

“OH, SNAP! Now, I have GOT to go read those damn books!”

Shark boy or no shark boy, vampire love or no vampire love, between that and the pigs the parking lot, I call that a day of entertainment that was screaming for a blog post.