Ever since I have lived alone I have found myself terrified of scary movies. I cover my face and bury my head in the sea of throw pillows just to muffle the sound of terror. I can't fathom the thought of ever liking scary flicks. I loved the "edge of your seat" feeling. My heart would pound as the music intensified.
I never had trouble sleeping after a scary movie night or a horror movie marathon with the girls. We would usually have one of those when one of us were having boy trouble. Who wanted to watch a romantic comedy during a dramatic time like that? Oh the seasons of heartache. How I ... don't miss thee. It would take our mind off of drama and draw our attention to other people's misery. Sounds wrong on so many levels right? What I mean is, noone wants to be driving down a deserted bridge in the pouring rain and see a little girl standing at the end of it, dressed in a long white dress with black eyes pointing at you.
After seeing something like that, thoughts of the love of your life leaving town and finding out he's not coming back doesn't seem so bad.
I always asked myself what I would do if I ever found myself in a typical scary movie situation. If a man called me on my cell phone telling me is in my bedroom would I run upstairs to see if he's there? If my house was haunted, would I stay? If I standed on an island full of hungry cannibals would I... share my bananas? What about if I heard strange noises in my attic, would I go on a quest to fight these soul hungry spirits? Maybe.
Now, ask me that again today. Um, HELL NO. If I can't even stand hearing commercials about a scary movie, what makes you think I would be the busty blonde running upstairs, or the blond who is using her clothing as shelter on the island fighting to keep her limbs to herself. Oh, the attic? Screw the attic. I will settle for storing everything in my walk in closet, where there is a light... and a baseball bat.
When you live alone, every noise that could only be heard by dogs magnifies 100 times. I hear everything. Even the sound of my refriderator coming on makes me jump out of my leggins. When I lay in bed, all I should be hearing is me breathing and my dog snoozin. I shouldn't be hearing all these clicks and clacks, tweets and beeps, bangs and clangs. What makes it worse is I live in a two story. So, upstairs is my arch nemesis at times. After an agonizing commercial, the last thing I want to do is go upstairs. I re-play it as if it will happen to me. At that moment.
So, suck it exorsist commercial that plays after every other commercial on every othe channel. Stop appearing out of no where on my television. I hear extra noises when I see you. Yuck. All I want to do is watch the Bachelor. By the way, how many of these movies are they going to make about you already. Goodness.
Always frost your cupcake with pastel colors. It's not scary.
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