My husband has my heart, but Edward can have my neck. . .

. . .And my soul? It belongs to Sam Walton now.


Some of you know of my rather strong feelings about Wal-Mart. I'm a very frugal person. I love a good deal more than just about anything. But long story short? I. Do. Not. Shop. At. Wal-Mart. After this weekend, though, I have to revise that personal statement.

Let's start at the beginning. The last volume of the "Twilight" series, Breaking Dawn, was released this weekend. For those of you who a) are over 30, and/or b) possess a Y chromosome, let me fill you in. "Twilight" is an insanely popular young adult series about a love triangle between a werewolf, a vampire, and a modern-day high school student. But the big surprise is that they're actually pretty good. Yes, the editing could be a little tighter (enough with the adverbs, already!), and the characters can be sophomoric (not surprising, since it's written for, well, sophomores). But they're fast-paced, with intricate and absorbing plots that make them all-but-impossible to put down once you start.

By the time the third book was released, the series was HOT. As in, "move over, Harry Potter" hot. And when a series gets that popular, suddenly fans aren't content to just hit the bookstore bright and early on the day that a new volume is released. When the Harry Potter series got big, bookstores began hosting midnight parties for each new volume--staying open the night before the official release date, right up until 12:01 when they could legally sell the book. With the Twilight books, the tradition has been continued.

So, my good friend Mandy happened to call last week and mentioned that she had pre-ordered Breaking Dawn and was going to pick it up at the midnight release party. And I decided to go with her. We agreed to meet at the bookstore around 10:00 and just hang out till midnight.

I should've known better. I witnessed firsthand the madness surrounding the midnight release of the final Harry Potter book. But that didn't even compare with the madness we witnessed at Barnes & Noble on Friday night. Hundreds of 14-year-old girls decked out in prom dresses, giggling and shrieking and just being fourteen. A werewolf riding a motorcycle. Groups of women in matching shirts declaring their love for the book and for their preferred paranormal paramour ("Team Edward" or "Team Jacob", "Only a vampire can love you FOREVER", and so on. . .)

Mandy and I got our wristbands and browsed the bookstore for awhile. It was crowded beyond belief and was starting to get toasty, so we headed outside to talk and people-watch. Shortly after midnight we heard a collective scream from inside the store; they'd officially started selling the books. One of the first girls through the line literally ran out the door and across the sidewalk with a boxful of books in her arms, shrieking at the top of her lungs.

After an hour or so, Mandy and I decided to head back inside to see how far they'd gotten. According to her wristband, Mandy was in Group 28. (Since I didn't pre-order my copy, I was so far down the totem pole I didn't even qualify for a number. I was in Group M.) When we checked, they were still serving Groups 1-9. Yikes. At this point we started to seriously question our sanity. Just WHY had we come here, again? I was eager to get home and feed Anna before I "milked" my shirt. Mandy was eager to get home and get some SLEEP because she had to get up early. We'd heard a rumor that Wal-Mart had books aplenty and no line at all, so we decided to check it out. At the very least, we could get a drink to bring back.

So we drove to Wal-Mart. (Oh, and it wasn't just any Wal-Mart. The very Wal-Mart that my friends and family personally petitioned against. But needs must when necessity drives.) We walked to the book section, where we found an employee unloading a box full of copies of Breaking Dawn. She handed us each a copy, we strolled to the checkout lane, and we were out the door with our prize (plus some bottled water and treats for Mandy's dog Festus). While the rest of Group M was still camped out on the floor of Barnes & Noble, I was tucked comfortably in bed reading the first dozen chapters or so.

And that's the story of how I sold out to The Man, all for a measly book.

P.S. Note to Mandy: We need to get together again. Before another 9 months goes by. :)