The book was better. Never before has this phrase have so much relevance to my current situation. Last month was me and my girlfriends two year and a half anniversary, or the "confession anniversary," as tradition would have it. I spent a few weeks actually trying to find the strategic secret to reveal, that being that my past three girlfriends all reminded me of one of my cousins. I knew if i got something out that big it would either show my commitment to this relationship, you know, full honesty and whatnot (plus she looks nothing like any of my cousins), Or, she would get upset (but couldn't leave me because of it. Such is the law of the confessionversary)

Well, she was unfazed actaully. I don't think she heard me, but she just seemed interested in getting her own secret out. After I said my secret, she ordered a Forty-Eight dollar bottle of wine, looked me in the eye and told me she was a fucking vampire, and that she had been surviving off the blood from my always chapped lips. Apparently she didn't require much, and she was stick thin anyways. And now I'm a fucking vampire, and have been, it seems, for two and a half years.
Getting back to my initial note, being a vampire is nothing at all like the stories. I'm not hyper fast or Romanian or anything, I just turn bitchy when im not drinking blood, and i get intense cramps when i eat garlic. It's different for women though I hear. The sun though, it scorches my skin, thats still there, and what I can't believe is that I didn't notice that that wasn't normal to be happening. Bullshit.

So, anyways, she looks me in the eyes, tells me shes a vampire, I'm a vampire, I remind her one one of her cousins, and when the wine she ordered arrived, she immediately informed the waiter that she never drank it. Bullshit.