It's Haunted? Move out!
I am a wuss. I freely admit this. I get scared easily. I fell asleep with the covers over my head and the hall light on until I was at least 10 or 11. I was scared of the dark then and it still makes me uneasy to this day. When I would get up in the middle of the night I'd turn on lights as I went. You could sit outside and track my progress through the house. I still do this. Mock me if you must.
I don't watch gory horror movies. Thrillers are OK, just not that Freddy Kruger blood and guts crap. Those movies give me the DTs like an alcoholic after a 3 day binge. I've tested this theory before. I once "watched" the entire original Friday the 13th with a pillow in front of my face. My "friends" thought it was funny. Of course they assured me that all was well at the end when the stupid girl was floating in a boat on the lake. Yeah. So I watched and Jason jumped out of the water. Incidents like this keep my therapist in panty hose.
I have the distinction of being the only person in my group of friends who has broken up with someone for taking me to a horror movie. Seriously. It was an otherwise good evening that consisted of a nice dinner and a movie. This guy knew how I felt about gore and guts, so what did he take me to see? The original Hellraiser. He had somehow convinced me that it was one of those Animal House or Porky's type movies. Yeah, I'm a moron. You don't have to remind me.
Haunted Houses are the worst. I read "The Amityville Horror" as a kid and it scared the bejeezus out of me. I'm with Eddie Murphy. He used to talk about haunted houses in his stand up routine. Remember? "Get OUT!" I can totally understand that. Why is it then that my friends and family are constantly trying to drag me into these houses of terror? Do they want to see me urinate in my Levis? Do they want to test their CPR skills? It's not like I have tons of life insurance or anything. They're not in the will anyway. None of them. I'm leaving it all to Casey, my dog. At least she loves me.
This weekend we're going to Howl 'O Scream at Busch Gardens. We go every year. That's a scary experience. I wish my family would just leave me alone to ride the rollercoasters in peace. But no. "Please Mommy, come into the gory house of death with us." There are two haunted houses at Howl 'O Scream. The second one is this quaint little hell hole where the walls are splattered in day glo paint. There is lots of smoke and strobe and black lights, so you can't see the doors in the wall where some psycho sadistic college student dressed like Leather Face comes after you. Good thing I don't have a seizure disorder. Last year I almost ran over The Little One trying to get out of there when what looked like a pile of rags tried to grab me and send me to the great laundry room in the sky. And to think it was The Little One's idea to go in. And how did she spend the last part of her walk through psycho-town? Clinging to C. with her face planted in his neck because she wanted to be carried. She was (/begin whiny voice) "scared" (/end whiny voice). I was planning on clinging to him. Brat.
Tonight was yet another installment in the "Let's Get Mommy" sweepstakes. The Little One's school had their annual haunted house. It's a fun activity where the kids have to do a math worksheet to earn a ticket to get in. The teachers are the ones who put this on, dress up in the costumes and set up the "house." In past years I have gotten out of this "forced fun" by feigning lots of school work to do and C. has ended up taking them. No such luck tonight, as he was late getting out of work. Lovely. I figured, "How bad can it be? This is an elementary school. They have kids from Pre-K to 5th grade. Certainly it's going to be tame." All I can say is that the teachers must have some pent up aggression that they want to unleash on the kids. Not that they don't deserve it, but if I find that rat bastard that jumped out at me with a chainsaw I'm going to shove it up his or her ass. I don't care if it takes me until Thanksgiving.
I don't watch gory horror movies. Thrillers are OK, just not that Freddy Kruger blood and guts crap. Those movies give me the DTs like an alcoholic after a 3 day binge. I've tested this theory before. I once "watched" the entire original Friday the 13th with a pillow in front of my face. My "friends" thought it was funny. Of course they assured me that all was well at the end when the stupid girl was floating in a boat on the lake. Yeah. So I watched and Jason jumped out of the water. Incidents like this keep my therapist in panty hose.
I have the distinction of being the only person in my group of friends who has broken up with someone for taking me to a horror movie. Seriously. It was an otherwise good evening that consisted of a nice dinner and a movie. This guy knew how I felt about gore and guts, so what did he take me to see? The original Hellraiser. He had somehow convinced me that it was one of those Animal House or Porky's type movies. Yeah, I'm a moron. You don't have to remind me.
Haunted Houses are the worst. I read "The Amityville Horror" as a kid and it scared the bejeezus out of me. I'm with Eddie Murphy. He used to talk about haunted houses in his stand up routine. Remember? "Get OUT!" I can totally understand that. Why is it then that my friends and family are constantly trying to drag me into these houses of terror? Do they want to see me urinate in my Levis? Do they want to test their CPR skills? It's not like I have tons of life insurance or anything. They're not in the will anyway. None of them. I'm leaving it all to Casey, my dog. At least she loves me.
This weekend we're going to Howl 'O Scream at Busch Gardens. We go every year. That's a scary experience. I wish my family would just leave me alone to ride the rollercoasters in peace. But no. "Please Mommy, come into the gory house of death with us." There are two haunted houses at Howl 'O Scream. The second one is this quaint little hell hole where the walls are splattered in day glo paint. There is lots of smoke and strobe and black lights, so you can't see the doors in the wall where some psycho sadistic college student dressed like Leather Face comes after you. Good thing I don't have a seizure disorder. Last year I almost ran over The Little One trying to get out of there when what looked like a pile of rags tried to grab me and send me to the great laundry room in the sky. And to think it was The Little One's idea to go in. And how did she spend the last part of her walk through psycho-town? Clinging to C. with her face planted in his neck because she wanted to be carried. She was (/begin whiny voice) "scared" (/end whiny voice). I was planning on clinging to him. Brat.
Tonight was yet another installment in the "Let's Get Mommy" sweepstakes. The Little One's school had their annual haunted house. It's a fun activity where the kids have to do a math worksheet to earn a ticket to get in. The teachers are the ones who put this on, dress up in the costumes and set up the "house." In past years I have gotten out of this "forced fun" by feigning lots of school work to do and C. has ended up taking them. No such luck tonight, as he was late getting out of work. Lovely. I figured, "How bad can it be? This is an elementary school. They have kids from Pre-K to 5th grade. Certainly it's going to be tame." All I can say is that the teachers must have some pent up aggression that they want to unleash on the kids. Not that they don't deserve it, but if I find that rat bastard that jumped out at me with a chainsaw I'm going to shove it up his or her ass. I don't care if it takes me until Thanksgiving.
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