Going Hungry at the Hunger Games

Kevin and I went to see the second installment of the Hunger Games movies last night.

Wow.

I was fortunate enough to hear about the books way back when, and I've re-read them many times. I am always so intrigued with books like this. Who comes up with this stuff? How do they get these ideas? As an aspiring writer, I am blown away by the creativity that people show and how they use words to share their ideas. The Hunger Games trilogy is pretty much a warning; it warns of letting one group of people hold all of the power. Deep. 

Most of you who follow this blog know that I'm not a super serious writer, I'll save that for my heartbreaking (and future best-selling) memoirs, "The girl who talked too much and had nothing to say." (That's a working title... bear with me.)

I like to keep this blog light, so I apologize for the earlier statement that made you almost stop reading to grab the nearest tissue box. (I know, it's that good.)

Kevin has been a champ. He's "suffered" through most of the Harry Potter movies, we still have a few left, and he's been "dragged" to both the Hunger Games and Catching Fire movies. Someone has become a HUGE fan. (Hint, it's not me. I was already a fan.)

It's been so long since we saw a movie in the theaters that I almost forgot what it was like. I was reminded by the 7 year old (I'm guessing) boy sitting behind me and randomly kicking my seat. I swear, I almost volunteered him. Kidding, that would be awful. This does really make me doubt parents who bring their children to these movies. This is not a child's movie. If your kid is too young to understand about conspiracy, governments gone wrong, and a kick-butt heroine trying to sacrifice herself to keep someone else alive, then do not bring them to this movie. 

I'm a crier. I don't think I've ever made it through a movie without crying, and it's one of my favorite things to do. Seriously. I get really into movies, books too. So when your brat kicks my seat, asks loudly, "IS SHE DEAD?", asks why the painting of Rue is so important, I will turn around and roll my eyes, briefly of course, annoyed that my feelings were interrupted. COME ON. Use your judgement. Read the books and reviews. Know your kids. If they can handle it, and shut up for 143 minutes straight, by all means, bring them. If they can't, I will be very annoyed*. 

*Keep in mind that I've just watched a whole movie of a really tough gal that I totally want to be like, and I've gotten some new moves that I will try out the entire way to the truck through the parking lot after the movie. Kevin is my test dummy, ask him. You have been warned.

I was starving throughout the whole movie. Ironic, right? We went to Chili's before hand, had awful service, my food (soup) came 10 minutes after Kevin's (burger) - do the math on that one - and so I wasn't super thrilled, I was also hungry, and we were almost late. Almost. Another pet peeve, if you're going to be so late that you miss the whole beginning of the movie, you should buy me popcorn to apologize, leave and never return. The lady beside me had succeeded in finding the loudest popcorn bag ever made, so that was fun.

I can't wait till this movie comes out on DVD so I can really enjoy it. Pausing to explain to Kevin the significance of the rebels, even if he couldn't care less, time for a bathroom break, and no laughing teens! Can't wait.

All in all, the movie was AWESOME. The casting could not have been better. Jennifer Lawrence will forever be Katniss, and I'm so glad we live in a world where the Hunger Games is just a movie, and where Catching Fire is something you don't want Kevin to do to your new house.

SPOILER ALERT: You will become obsessed with dressing like Katniss. I currently have braids in my hair, black tights and high brown boots and an awesome sweater that I know she would love. It will happen, so I recommend buying your essential gear now. Also, if you know of someone who has a bow for sale, I'll take it. (If you think I mean a hair bow, get out.)

If you have relatives coming in town for the Holidays, I'd recommend watching the movies..... Welcome to the Hunger Games!

Happy Thanksgiving, and may the odds be ever in your favor!

How to become a happier worrier

Today, I'm on a quest to become a happier worrier. 

I'd like to just be happier, but the content of this post should help you understand why that's just not possible. Let's dive on in, shall we?

For those of you who may not know, Kevin recently made a huge career change. After feeling very frustrated with a job that he didn't see a future at, he decided to join the Publix family. (Kevin's entire family works for Publix. Maybe not the entire family, but it's almost impossible to name a married couple in his immediate family who has no connection to the store.)

Do I think that Publix is awesome? You bet I do. Are they sometimes expensive? Always. Do they have great BOGOs? You're darn tootin.

If we weren't right in the middle of buying our first home, and if I was making more money, it probably wouldn't be such a huge deal, but the transition has been a little rocky.

I'm going to preach for a quick second, then I'll return to my usual, snarky self. I pray and tithe as faithfully as I can. I have been praying a lot these past few weeks for patience, faith and peace. It's beginning to get a little easier to see the big picture.

Generally speaking, I like to be in charge. I get a thrill from to-do lists. Yes, a thrill. Get over it. (See? Back to my facetious self in no time.) This time in our lives has been a huge reminder that I don't have control, I can only control my reactions to what happens.

I'm also fabulous at focusing on the "small stuff". Ask Kevin. I really feel for him sometimes. I'm famous for getting excited over the small things in life.

Examples include, and are not limited to: 

getting a new haircut

food (in general)

when my niece says, "I love you, aunt."

 when my niece tries and almost succeeds at doing a cartwheel (She's not even 4, and practically an experienced gymnastic. Olympics, here we come!)

for great dancing/singing/miming songs played in the car, especially when someone else is driving and I can become an interpretive dancing sensation

an awesome book

hearing a friend tell a really funny story

having a funny story to tell

great days at work! 

Smiling

etc.

(If you've ever seen the show The Middle, I'm basically Sue Heck. I have heard this comparison from more than one person. So I had some rough high school years. I'm over it. Kind of.)

I am get excited over small things, which I enjoy doing. This also means I can get easily frustrated while Kevin is the complete opposite. We both have our faults, and during this new challenge, we are trying to work through all the annoying stuff.

One of the changes, as silly as it seems, is Kevin's new schedule.

He worked all weekend. Are you kidding me? His "days off" were Monday and Tuesday.

Monday and Tuesday.

I'm serious.

 

Let me take a quick moment to say that I'm thankful for this new job. He's got great intentions. He's got a big heart and even bigger goals. Kevin wants to own Publix. (Not really, but he has big plans.) It's not like I never see him, I do. He's not off in some foreign country, or doing something insane, it's just a big change for us. For the past two years, I've looked forward to our weekends off together, and now I don't know what his schedule consists ahead of time.

I've really had to pray about my reactions to things in life I can't control. I've blogged about this before, about not becoming a bridezilla. I want to be that girl who floats through life, not a care in the world. Who makes a mistake, fixes it, and doesn't spend two days sick with guilt over the tiniest error.

That would make me Kevin.

And if I were Kevin, and Kevin was Kevin, who would worry about the small stuff? Getting the signed papers turned into the mortgage people? Calling to follow up on the venue because someone (cough cough KEVIN) messed up the contract? Getting stamps and addresses for the wedding guest list? Buying me clothes? See what I mean?

Someone has to worry about the small stuff, I just want to be a happier worrier. Possible? Maybe. Am I going to try? I got my pants on, don't I? 

(That's a rhetorical question. I am in fact wearing pants.)

Any advice is welcome, I look forward to hearing your stories, heeding your advice, eating your food, and being your friend.