Mental Captivity

Warning! This post contains discussion of The Hunger Games Trilogy that may or may not be considered spoilers. Proceed at your own risk.

People have been telling me for months that I should read The Hunger Games. I heard what each had to say, took it under consideration and came to agree with them. One of the things these numerous people told me was that the tertiary piece of the trilogy was due out in August so I decided to wait until then.
Cut to last Thursday when I read the first book and then, Friday when I read the second. At that point I looked on the internet and discovered that the third book won’t be released until the 24th which kind of made me want to rip out the portion of my brain that absorbed the story so I could find peace during the ten days that would follow.

On Saturday I went to Boy Scouts of America leader specific training. That’s right. I’ve been made a scouter. A Wolf den leader to be specific. I am ok with this for a few reasons.
1: My co-den leader is is awesome sauce and so far has done all the responsible organizational kind of things that I find so difficult I generally bleed out my ears when I try to do them, so all I’ve had to do are show up at meetings wearing an enthusiastic face (and a scout shirt) while I nod my head, make treats, and tell eight year old boys what to do when they show up at my house.
2: I really enjoy both making treats and bossing eight year olds around.

So, I’m at the training thingy on Saturday thinking my way through the love triangle of Katniss Everdeen and her suitors, both of whom I adore, when I’m jarred from these ponderings by the Scout trainer who has directed us all to stand and join him in a rendition of “Short Necked Buzzards,” It is apparently necessary to participate in such activities with enthusiasm lest one be recognized as a scouting hack and lose the respect of ones den.

For the rest of the weekend my ruminations over the state of the Panem union, whether or not the redheaded Avox girl will have escaped the Capitol and come to play a bigger role in the coming book, and whether I’m rooting for Peeta or Gale, were thought to the accompaniment Of “THREE, short necked buzzards, THREE short necked buzzards, THREE short necked Buzzards, Siting in a BIIIIIG tree,” As it ran circles through the back of my mind.
Again I wished for the ability to remove select portions of matter from my brain.

Yesterday in our den meeting the two of us den leaders enthusiastically lead “Short Necked Buzzards” while the boys looked on with a mixture confusion and pity. Toward the end though, as the buzzards “reeeturned” to their big tree and miracle happened. Two of the boys broke through the haze of shame, pity and self conscience and joined us.
I had begun to doubt my fresh earned training. The trainers on Saturday insisted that the boys LOVE these cooky songs and skits and things and joining in with a whole heart is the only way to succeed as a scout leader but I just wasn’t seeing it. Luckily we had that break though, chipping away at those boys’ sense of decorum and “not getting beat upittude” enough for them to join in before we threw our training out the window and with it our chance at ever becoming a successful wolf den.

I’ve been thinking. As much as I dislike waiting, these ten days I’m spending in story book purgatory are not entirely wasted. When next Tuesday dawns and I sink into my fresh new copy of Mockingjay the experience will be all the sweeter for having been made to wait. Honestly though, I really love Peeta. But do I actually prefer him to Gale, or is it just that I know him better? I don’t see how Ms Suzanne Collins is going to resolve this without me getting angry and heartbroken over one or the other of them. I’m afraid bigamy is the only way.
That, or they could all die but that would be crappy.

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