Latimer: Two nights in a row I’ve been up until 1.30am. And that’s not good when you have to get up at 7am!
I ended up watching episode 2 of Game of Thrones on Tuesday night. It was pretty crap actually- too much talking and gratuitous sex. My flatmate (Orbie) made a very good point about the sex, “why is it never the ones we want to see naked?”
“Fair point,” I said. “Like Robb Stark.”
Orbie nodded, “And Jon Snow- the hottest things in the show.”
Silently, I nodded, this is true, but then I chirped up, “And Jaime Lannister?”
She didn’t reply. Is it just me? I’m going to wait for Ridley to shoot me down on that (I don’t expect her to, but the heart of a woman is a fickle thing. We find beauty in strange places at times and expect others to loudly declare they are sisters in arms with us, when in actuality they look at us with scorn and reproach! But then in turn, we’ll do the same thing when they come forward and admit their guilty pleasure!).
Anyway, so we watched Game of Thrones.
Then, I headed to bed to finish reading Book 2 of the Hunger Games (it wasn’t my intention initially to finish it, but that’s what happened- like a crack addict I OD’d on reading). I stumbled, bleary-eyed to the bathroom at 1am (1 chapter left at this point). As I passed Orbie’s room, the light was on (this was weird). “Hmm,” I thought. Then shrugged, stumbling back to my room to finish gobbling down Book 2.
I woke up the next morning in a hazy half-dream state. I thought I was in the games for a minute, in some weird trippy after-effects of late-night reading. I shook my head and struggled off to make my breakfast. It was a while before Orbie materialised, clawing her way out of her room like a drunk, doped-up koala. She stood blinking in the kitchen, “I’m so tired!” she moaned. “My eyes are burning! I can’t keep them open!”
I nodded, munching my toast. “Hmm, I know what you mean I was up last night reading.” Pause. “What time did you go to bed at?”
“2am!” she cried, using her fingers to hold her eyes open.
“What were you doing?” I inquired. My mind connecting the dots… I wondered….
“What?” I pressed.
“Hunger Games Book 2!” she said with a sheepish smile, as if I would shoot her down.
“I knew it! Me too,” I squealed.
I told her I’d been up the previous night too. She asked if I had the one’s with the crap, horrible, garish covers (yes).
She scowled, “Those covers make it look like you are reading a kids book about aliens.”
I told her about how Ridley and I had gone to the bookshop after the movie (I’ll set the scene: movie ends, Ridley turns, a knowing smile on her face; “bookshop” she asks, but it’s not really a question. I squeal like a child on too much sugar “YEEY!”- she knows me too well).
Orbie levelled a knowing look at me, “I told you, you would like it” (she had seen the film the previous week and told me, “you’d like it; it’s very good”).
I sigh, “Yeah, yeah, you and Ridley!”
Then, Orbie and I stumbled off our separate ways to work.
I’m saving Book 3 for the weekend. I have it under lock and key. I have to, I need sleep!
My name is Latimer and I’ve been Hunger Games free since 1.30am on Wednesday.