The Hunger Games

The movie comes out Friday.  I have mixed feelings and am going to sound terribly snobby or snooty or something in the next few sentences. I guess it's better that I admit it?  I'll back up a bit. The Hunger Games is a trilogy of books for young adults (I realize that no, this is not me, but I don't care) taking place in a dystopian world separated into districts. Every year, each district elects a male and female child/teenage "tribute" to participate in the hunger games--the winner's district is provided with all kinds of resources. In a world where food and basic essentials are scarce, this is a big deal. The catch is that the tributes play the game to the death. In order to win, you have to be the last one alive.  Of course, the games are televised, with everyone absolutely enraptured by the spectacle. Twisted? Yeah. Far from reality? Not as much as you might think.

So anyway, I read the book in 2009, long before the rest of the world realized how great they were (this is the snooty part). Part of me really, really despises being on a bandwagon; I've always been an underdog rooter (ask me how great of a strategy that was in this year's NCAA basketball bracket challenge). Another part of me is glad the books caught on so I have the chance to see what a filmmaker does with them. The other advantage of the trilogy's success is that young adult authors everywhere are doing their best to replicate them, providing me with plenty of dystopian worlds to delve into. 

So the bottom line is, I won't be in the theaters at 12:01am Friday to catch the first screening, but I also won't wait for the DVD. Walking contradiction? You bet!

Peanut Butter Pie

Peanut butter plays a big role in our household. The dog devours his peanut butter based treats and gets a Kong of the good stuff if we leave the house for extended periods of time. One of Simon's favorite snacks is a PB-smothered, toasted English muffin, and my favorite summertime treat is Vanilla Hagen Daas ice cream topped with melted Skippy Natural. It's indulgent and a bit ridiculous, but boy is it good.

I was itching to try a peanut butter based dessert recipe, and came across this one for individual peanut butter pies. I figured making small versions of something so rich would help make it a teensy bit less sinful. Poor logic. They're really delicious, and I forced myself to bring a couple to work, so I wouldn't go nuts (pun intended) gorging on them at home.  Words of advice: whip this up sometime, but try not to look at the ingredients when you do. Eeek.

Meeting Yet Another Merwin

We took a little jaunt south on Friday night to visit my brother in New Haven, CT.  Pete is working on getting his Masters in Sculpture and just finished installing his thesis show, so we took a look at that and also experienced his studio, a really amazing space he's crafted into his own zone of artistic mayhem.  It's very him, and he explained that most of the things he has in there are found items--from pieces of his artwork to his furniture, rugs, and tools.  It was pretty awesome and a world totally different than my own--when I need something, I check Target before I scour the streets.

We finished up our visit at the Caseus Fromagerie and Bistro, a scrumptious French restaurant on the outskirts of Yale's campus.  Highlights included to-die-for French onion soup, one of my favorites, as well as the grilled cheese, which was nearly a pound of melty cheeses nestled between thick, rustic slices of bread. Yum.

On our way back to Pete's studio, we passed this art shop.  The shop is most certainly named after the dog. Simply no other explanation.

Thesis Assistant

I'll read the thing once it's completed but as Simon pointed out when I edited one of his loooonnnggggg papers last semester, I make lots of thoughtful edits in the beginning, and then slowly the edits dwindle, marking my apparent fading interest.  So it's a good thing Merwin is playing this advisory role in articulating the effects of globalization on Liberian philanthropy.  He runs to the door expecting guests when a doorbell rings on TV, but this, my friends, is when he really shines.

A Poem for a Monday

River

Pat Schneider

A delicate fuzz of fog,
like mold, or moss,
all across the river
in this early light.
Another day, I might
have still been sleeping.

What a pity. How the stars
and seas and rivers
in their fragile lace of fog
go on without us
morning after morning,
year after year.
And we disappear.

Crazy, isn't it? It's hard to believe that everything we see, things as majestic as sunrises and things as ordinary as the 86 bus rolling across town, will go on without us. I suppose it is both crazy and simply obvious, yet the poem describes the moment beautifully--a moment of realization and appreciation for earth, for life.