I've read the Hunger Games trilogy twice and dragged a few friends into it as well, so we all went to see the movie on Saturday and LOVED it. Massively.
I turned 40, which is sobering. OR IT WOULD BE, if I stopped drinking long enough to think about it. Honestly, I already had my emotional crisis (I optimistically assume that it will be crisis, singular) a few years back and this birthday didn't throw me. I'm as responsible as I need to be to maintain the ruse of being an adult, but I fervently hope that I *never* feel mature. What I do feel is very fortunate and grateful. And sleepy, so it's off to bed with me.