Blair and I were watching The Hunger Games today and as the tributes were racing off their platforms into the woods, Blair turned to me. "You would be good at that," he said.
"Nah,"I replied. "I'd do myself in on the first day from the stress of it."
"Not true," he said. "You'd be like (and here he morphed into his high pitched "Dena voice"):'PICK ME! I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"
"And then," he continued, "the officials would be all like, 'Uh, Dena, you won last year. You can't compete again.' And you'd be all like (he lets out a primal wail): 'AAAIIIEEE!! I MUST KILL!!!"
I was rolling. Whether or not it's because he completely nailed my personality, I'm not sure.