Self’s Nightmare and “Mockingjay” Movie Spoilers

Good Grief!  The dream self had in the wee hours today:  She had re-enrolled at Stanford (Her Dream Self was apparently one of those people who believe that one can never have too many advanced degrees).  But this time, she completely forgot that there was such a thing as attending class.  And by the time she realized this, it was already the final week of the quarter.  And she had never submitted a single assignment.  It all just slipped by her, honestly.  This qualifies as an honest-to-goodness “panic dream.”  It was horrible.  Really sweat-inducing.  Mebbe she shouldn’t have watched “Sleepy Hollow.”  The golem was extremely convincing, though.

And, since self awoke, about 2:30 a.m., and didn’t have any good story ideas, she began to do the next best thing, which was to read every single post on Mockingjay, the final book in the Hunger Games trilogy, and she discovered on Buzzfeed a very interesting list, and she could not stop laughing when she read:

“. . .  good grief, after spending two full movies watching Katniss gaze longingly into Gale’s crazy-handsome face, it is just a numbing downer to spend two full movies watching them bicker without ever bothering to talk things out.  Possible solution:  Perhaps Katniss could seek out Gale for some comfort, especially if Gale happened to be shirtless.  For once.”

Self wholeheartedly agrees with this one.  There is in fact a shirtless-Gale Moment in Catching Fire, but it’s a bit distracting because he is being whipped and there’s a lot of blood splaying all over the place.  Hopefully, by Mockingjay, his scars will have healed, and maybe he could be shot from just the front, which is the unblemished part of his torso.

Another spoiler:  Katniss ends up with you-know-who, and this is truly a case of her wanting to be needed, because there’s little point in getting together with someone who has been brainwashed so thoroughly that he thinks you are an evil person who needs to be done away with.  This because the point has to be made that “choosing to violently overthrow a totalitarian regime is itself a destructive act from which there is little hope of fully healing.”  EEEEKKK!!!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

2nd Monday of December (2013)

Today, self did several surprising things.

First of all, she bought a Christmas tree.  A real one, that smelled of the pine-y woods of Oregon (She would have said Half Moon Bay, but the Christmas tree vendor said his trees came from Oregon.)

On the way home after buying the tree, she heard someone honking her and LOOKED UP.  Since there are frequently people who honk at self because she drives so, so slowly, she tries to ignore all the honks.  But this car seemed particularly insistent, and it was — Christy!  Christy from the nail spa on Broadway!

Christy gestured at self to roll down her window.  Self was so flustered that she first ended up rolling down her back windows.  “You missed your appointment yesterday!” Christy yelled.  “You were supposed to come at 4!”

Eeeek!  Self had completely forgotten!  Besides which, she was having bonding time with The Man, so it wouldn’t have worked, her having a nail job done, yesterday afternoon.

But self had so much fun conversing with Christie from her car that she decided to do a very crazy thing, the craziest thing she could think of at the moment, which was:

TO SEE HUNGER GAMES: CATCHING FIRE FOR THE 3RD TIME!

It was absolutely the right decision, for self now had leisure to observe that nice young actor who plays Finnick.  And to admire his biceps.  And his devotion to the sweet old woman, Mags.  And to note that everyone else in the audience (more women than men) seemed to be at least middle-aged.

It was another one of those really cold days.  At least, the movie theater was nice and warm.  And she enjoyed her $5 Angus beef hot dog.

Chair, Upper Level Lobby of the Redwood City Century 20

Chair, Upper Level Lobby of the Redwood City Century 20

These chairs look very “Art Deco.”

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

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