Sorry Prince Charming, but you and your noble steed must make way for the throng of pale, brooding, bloodsucking youths which have girls and women alike swooning uncontrollably. No female is safe. Even at work, 30-something women proudly sport "Twilight" T-shirts and eagerly await the arrival of whichever sap-filled movie is about to grace theaters. Vampire shows are taking over our cable networks. Edward Cullen posters are eating our dorm rooms alive. True Blood drips from the necks of girls lucky enough to have parents who subscribe to HBO.

I myself have not fallen victim to this pandemic; I'm far too sophisticated and classy for such follies. But I did read Twilight last year over Christmas Break (when it snowed and the Internet no longer provided a respite), so I understand why the storm is upon us. Twilight, like so many princess fairy tales, plays on the assumption that ordinary women long to become the object of a very beautiful man's desire. Most women want to believe they are special, and in Twilight, Bella, a seemingly unremarkable klutz, captivates a mysterious and gorgeous member of the student body who has a huge secret: he drinks blood. Not human blood, because he's beyond that savagery. Despite passes made by nearly every pretty young thing in school, Edward only has eyes for Bella. Women love that stuff.

Edward's noble steed is his silver Volvo, which he uses rather frequently to whisk Bella away from danger. It's rather interesting that his car be a Volvo; it's subtly luxurious. Women love the idea of a man breaking the law and speeding down the highway to rescue them, then treating them to an expensive Italian restaurant. Twilight, like Harry Potter, involves mythical circumstances but seduces common human ideals of love and friendship, making the plot a fantasy but the characters themselves attainable. Women really believe their Edward Cullen is out there, avoiding the sun and prancing around forests, just like Disney told young girls everywhere that a prince is waiting to rescue them from an underwhelming reality. Twilight is merely a rose by another name.

Do I believe that all girls and women are teary, emotional sacks of Russell Stover chocolates who wait tirelessly for the perfect man to come along and save the day? No, I do not. Plenty of women are realistic about men and relationships, but the number of blind Twilight followers is disheartening. Men will never live up to the expectations placed on them and women will always feel shortchanged.

My 17-year-old sister is a fan of the Twilight series. I know she's not easily duped into thinking that Edward and Bella are the norm, and I also know that these books are merely a hobby for many. They most likely serve as a common interest among friends, not a benchmark for how relationships should work. Yet it frustrates me when women actually buy into these myths and tall tales.

Like Edward, my boyfriend also avoids the sun. Not because his skin glitters, but because he's pale and has a penchant for bad sunburns.