I love “bad” movies and I won’t apologize for it.

During the height of the Twilight era, I was one of the feather-haired girls who dressed in all black and practiced my vampiric smile in the mirror before school. I wrote erotic fanfiction and modeled my outfits after the ones I’d studied carefully during my hundreds — yes, hundreds — of watch-throughs. I was deep in the heart and soul of this questionable-at-best franchise, and I loved every second of…