May 4, 2012
I’m going to have to avoid the internet this weekend, because I’m not going to be able to see The Avengers until Sunday. Gasp! I know! But that’s when the rest of the gang can go, so there you are. I only hope that when Joss Whedon pulls out his patented “shock the audience by killing a beloved character with a random piece of flying shrapnel” schtick, he doesn’t target Agent Coulson. What are the odds? He’ll get Pepper instead, won’t he? And that just ain’t right. Please, Joss, no random killing shrapnel in this one!
I finally read The Hunger Games, and my inner thirteen year old girl exploded. Loved it. Now halfway through Catching Fire, and my inner thirteen year old girl is rioting. I’m chortling through the whole thing, because it’s so freaking manipulative, and I absolutely love being manipulated by it. I was talking with the teens at the fencing club about it last night, and when they found out I hadn’t read Mockingjay yet, they freaked out and refused to talk anymore so that they wouldn’t spoil it for me. So sweet of them! And then one of them gave me a giant bruise on my arm while sparring, because they are all much better fencers than I am.