So I fear that I might be impaled by stones (or maybe arrows) for saying this, but I think Peeta is a giant sack of sappy shit.
I held out as long as I could because 1) I’m 24 years old and this book is located in the “young adult” section and 2) I was afraid it would just be another Twilight type of diarrhea in your pants, but I finally got around to reading The Hunger Games yesterday when there was nothing to do at work and I finished it today when there was, again, nothing to do at work. Sure, maybe I rushed through my routine duties to get back upstairs to get through the next chapter, and sure, maybe it took me over an hour to eat my bowl of soup (which got super cold, btw) because I was too engaged in this weird, awesome, badass world, but I’m still not impressed whatsoever by this “Peeta” character.
When I announced to the universe that I’d finally hop onto the “HG bandwagon,” a lot of my friends told me that I’d “love Peeta,” and I think this in large part has to do that when I was in high school, and maybe even throughout college, I was a hopeless romantic. I ate all that shit up like it was a delicious bowl of lucky charms. (Except for Twilight, which is the shit that comes out of the behind of a regular shit after it’s had a meal consisting of an insane curry consisting of ghost peppers and e coli.) But it’s become pretty evident lately to me that something happened in the last couple of years and I’ve become more hopeless than romantic. In fact, my boyfriend can pretty much attest that I am the least romantic person on the planet. I make Freddy Kruger look like a decent date. Actually, I bet he would be a good date. He probably has a lot of interesting stories about dreams he’s teleported into. Maybe he’s been in a few of my weird Justice-League-at-Hogwarts dreams. I make Sheldon Cooper look like a decent date. And it’s not like I think romance is dead. I just think the way Peeta is constantly treating his moments with Katniss in the arena as a “date” rather than being on guard is irritatingly stupid. And the mushy gushy crap he says?! C’mon. No one says shit like that. Or maybe just not to me. Because they know it’ll make me throw up. But really now, who seriously thinks making out when you’re being hunted is a good idea?!
This all dawned on me on my ride home from work today. At one point in my life, I really did think that when I was with the right boy, there would be fireworks, and my leg would awkwardly kick up (okay, someone please explain to me why this happens in movies… as a pre-med, I can tell you they do NOT explain this reflex whatsoever in muscles and bones class), and the first time we’d lock eyes when he sees me actually non-ugly (remember, I was a hideous child), Sixpence None the Richer would play…
(I’m equally as graceful, btw. Thanks for giving me hope, Rachel Leigh Cook!)
Anyways, I think this is one of the ways the Beastie and I have grown to be different. It can be argued that the foundation of our friendship was boys: the ones we had a crush one, the ones that liked us, the ones that broke our hearts. No matter what, the conversation always came back to boys. We’ve both had our share of heartache, but unlike me, the Beastie has never been jaded in her confidence that “true love” really does exist out there. For this, I am unreasonably jealous. Or Envious. (As a linguistics minor and a member of the Jane Austen book club, I feel like I really should remember which is used for arbitrary and which for concrete objects, but I’ve had enough wine tonight to not really care.) Because honestly, all I want is that look that my parents still give each other after being in a relationship for 38 years. But I don’t think it’s ever going to happen to me. Which is fine, because you don’t get everything you want in life.
All I know is that being madly in love is so unproductive. First of all, no one would ever hang up the phone! We’d literally be glued to the phone for the rest of our lives. “Oh you hang up!” “No, you hang up!” OH JUST SHOOT ME ALREADY.
I miss feeling that giddiness though. And the excitement. And the butterflies.
No offense to my boyfriend, of course. He’s probably the nicest, most loving person I’ve ever been with. Especially if he’s put up with me for this long. Don’t get me wrong; I am the absolute best girlfriend you could ask for. I’m also the worst. How? I try really, really, really hard to be as thoughtful as I possibly can. When I die, that’s what I want people to remember about me: my thoughtfulness. I’m also probably the most distant person you’ll ever encounter. Sorry, buddy.
I’ll also be the first to admit that I’m pretty selfish. I’ll choose my family over a boy 10 times out of 10. They mean everything to me, and that’s never going to change.
Speaking of family, my baby sister (okay, she’s not a baby. She’s 21. Weird. I feel like she’s still 2) left this morning to study abroad in London. It’s a weird feeling because I’ve never been apart from her for over a week, and now there’s an ocean separating us for over 4 months. This is the same girl I shared a room with for 18 years. The one I don’t go a day without talking to. I hope she meets Tom Felton and gropes him, and then tells me all about it so that I can live vicariously through her. I tried to convince her to pack a few roofies so that she can bring him home but I guess she doesn’t want to go through the trouble of declaring him in her suitcase when going through customs. SELFISH!
Oh Draco. You’re so much more dreamy than Peeta. You would never say any of that mushy crap.
With that said, I actually did enjoy the books. Not as much as Harry Potter, obviously, because… well come on. I felt really bad for saying this out loud once, but even if they found a cure for cancer, I’ll still consider Harry Potter the greatest contribution within my lifetime. But I still liked Hunger Games.
Like the short bald guy from Princess Bride, what I really appreciate more than anything is wit. I think I’ve mentioned this before, but I think wittiness is the most admirable quality a person can have. And not just witty in the sense that you’re funny, but witty has in you have the ability to out-clever everyone else. And that’s why I really enjoyed reading the cunningness of Katniss. And especially Rue.
Anyways, I hope the Beastie writes a sunshine-filled post soon, just so you’re reassured that there’s more than just ice running through this blog’s veins. Until then, I’ll leave you with this short note and two songs:
HP >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> HG
PS, that Lovemakers’ song is the very first song I ever bought on iTunes :)
PPS, despite what I feel for Pita, this still makes me laugh: