I'm a little late to the party, I admit, but suddenly, I'm hooked on "The Hunger Games." Not the movie. I haven't seen it yet. I'm hooked on the books. I blame my father. It's all his fault. A few months ago, he told me how he'd just started reading the first book,and then had to read the second and the third. I said, "Dad, it's a young adult series." He said, "I know, but once you start, you can't stop. They trick you. You have to keep reading." "What's it about?" He proceeded to tell me the entire story. I figured, fine, I don't have to read it now. Then I had lunch with some friends and they were all reading it, too. "You have to read it," Kyle said. So I gave it a shot, and dear God, it's like a sickness. I'm in way over my keppy. I'm on the second book now, "Catching Fire," and even though I know I shouldn't read it before bed, I do, anyway. It's so bad for me! All night, I dream of mutant monkeys and poisonous fog. All night, I'm Katniss. Running and climbing, dodging flaming arrows and spiky weapons that kill on impact. Smashing through force fields and barbecuing squirrels. Who knew I had such skills?
The calories I must be burning! I wake up exhausted. Seriously, I can't wait till I'm done with these books. But then, what'll I read next? "Fifty Shades of Grey," the tie-me-up, tie-me-down erotic trilogy that's liberating the inner goddesses of women throughout the world? Soft porn. Hmm. It'd be so beneath me. And yet, I might need to see what all the fuss is about. I do like to stay up on current events, you know. It's so important for a blogger of my status. But I can only imagine what my dreams would be like once I turn out the lights. Can you blush when you're asleep?