Are we still here?

Oh good. I was really worried, you know. I hated to think I was going to die with bad skin and before I got to see the 7th season of Doctor Who. On the other hand, it sucks that we didn't all go up in flames because now I have to go out into the madness and buy Christmas presents. Guess that's what I get for hedging my bets....

It's the end of the world as we know it...

...and I feel fine......

Happy Halloween

                                                     

                                          Picture from google images, not my own work. Many thanks to the original source.

No review this week, just a couple of stories from my past for your amusement.

I am a classic chicken. Not that most people ever guess that from my bad-ass, take no prisoners attitude. But put a horror movie on and watch me lose my shit faster than a goose that's been given ex-lax.

Many of my friends love horror movies. I actually like the idea of them, it's the sounds & some of the over the top gory visuals that I have a problem with. I usually wind up watching them, giving my friends a good laugh at my reactions, and then having nightmares for the next 3 days that often result in me prowling through the house with my sword (What? Doesn't everybody have a sword for defense? Kept right beside the bed? No? Moving on...) and swinging at shadows.

So, going back a number of years, here are 2 stories featuring my former BFF Susan, from the Garth Brooks concert story.

1.  As I mentioned in Concert Tales 1, our birthdays were only a few days apart. One year, there was a new Friday the 13th movie (Jason Goes to Hell) out right around then. We were on the road with our wrestling buddies and in Charlotte NC. Sue really wanted to go see the movie, so we got a group together and went. Now Sue LOVED horror movies, and almost nothing fazed her. She was one of those people who could happily drink cherry soda and eat anything while watching the most gruesome of scenes.

I, on the other hand, cannot. We used to do weekend movie marathons at her house with her Mom, sister, and whatever friends/cousins were about. We usually started off with comedies or action flicks, but everyone knew what to do when it was time for the horror flicks. Move all drinks away from me, put the popcorn somewhere I couldn't knock it over, and hand me the cushion known as "Mickey's scream pillow." During the worst scenes, I'd bury my face in the pillow and have my fingers in my ears. Hearing the gross sound effects is actually worse for me than seeing heads go flying. The sounds linger in my imagination and then I start imagining things way worse than what was actually onscreen. This practice works well at home, not so good in public.

Anyway, we were at the theater and the guys had been warned that I would most likely wind up burrowing into someone's shoulder and shrieking like a loon. The movie (for those who may not have seen it) started with Jason being blown into a zillion pieces. Then, during the autopsy of the remains, his heart starts beating...the entranced doctor doctor picks it up...I realize what is about to happen and slide off my seat onto the floor. Around me, a theater full of people are shrieking/gagging "He ate the heart!" I look to my left and what do I see but SUSAN crouched on the floor beside me. We finally found something that was too gross even for her. I was less than sympathetic. "YOU wanted to see this movie, bitch, now get back up there and watch it!" I don't remember much after that. I do know that the guys ribbed us about that for months.

2. Weekend movie marathon at Sue's. (Her mom had cable & a VCR- Yes, I'm old- at the time & I didn't, which is why we always did these at their house. But I would cook for whoever was there and always brought snacks/drinks/desserts, and helped clean up afterward, so her mom was totally fine with it) One weekend it wound up just being the 2 of us. Her mom, little sister, and the gaggle of gigglers were going to a dance at the Community Center. My BF at the time said he might drop by later after he got off from work.

Well, this was the perfect night for anyone but me to watch horror movies. It was dark & stormy, and spooky as hell. Their place was at the end of a row with a slightly overgrown wooded area to the side & rear, so the branches of trees & bushes would sometimes scrape the house when the wind gusted. Sue, knowing that my nerves were on edge, took pity on me and we watched comedies most of the evening, until it was time for Tales From The Crypt. She was dying (heh) to see this episode for some reason because Morton Downey Jr  (bonus points if you remember him) was in it. If I remember correctly, he was a skeptical journalist investigating a haunted house. It was more suspenseful than gory, and even got me interested. As we neared the end of the show, the real life storm started getting REALLY bad, and just as all hell broke loose on the tv show, it broke loose at the house. There was a terrific flash of lightning (we found out later it had hit the transformer half a block down from us) and a horrendous clap of thunder and everything went black.

Naturally, we were a bit taken aback by this. Ok, really, we freaked the fuck out. We're both shrieking and then hear a pounding on the door. We are beyond rational thought at this point. Sue screamed something to the effect of "Oh shit, something's trying to get us, RUN!" And we did. Now it's too bad that nobody had a night vision camera there to film what happened next, because I'm sure it was comedy gold.

Still screaming, flailing around in the dark, we both tried to run for the back door. In the dark, in a small living room crowded with furniture. After falling over things several times, still screaming, with the pounding continuing, we made it to the hall by the kitchen, leading to the back door. With my usual grace, I tripped over an air molecule and went SPLAT, face down. Sue trampled me, still trying to get out. The problem here was that the backdoor had a deadbolt lock...and we didn't have the key.

The front door flew open with a resounding BANG. Sue screamed "Kill her first!" and began alternately throwing her weight against the back door and kicking/pushing me toward the hooded figures in the front door.

Any guesses? Yep. My boyfriend & her mom. Her little sister got sent back to the car when we started screaming, just in case something was going down. (other than me) Chris had gotten there just as the power blew- that was the first pounding we'd heard. Mama C joined him at the door, heard our screams, dropped the keys, and that's why he kept pounding. He was trying to alert the fictitious killer that help was at hand. They finally got the door open, pointed Chris's flashlight in, and once they realized we weren't actually being murdered, laughed their asses off at us. The laughter stopped for a minute or two when I went for Sue's throat for trying to sacrifice me to the potential killers, but they pulled us apart and it was pretty funny once everyone calmed down.

Monday Musings- It's the end of the world as we know it...

After roughly a year of Poetry Monday, I've decided to try something new. Welcome to a weekly look inside my twisted brain....

So, there's been a lot of discussion about how the world is going to end in December of this year. People all over the planet are reportedly spending thousands of dollars for reserved spots in 'survival bunkers' or planning suicide to escape the horrors of Armageddon. The suicides? Well, if you're that convinced it's going to happen, why wait? *Please note, I am not suggesting that anyone go out and kill themselves* But if you're seriously that concerned, you'd just do it, not wait to see what's gonig to happen. So I don't quite buy that 'escape' plan.

And as far as the people who plan to barricade themselves in bunkers go? Um, call me crazy, but what are you going to do if the world does end? There you'll be, safe & snug in your little bunker...until the food, water, and air run out. Then what? If the world above/around you is uninhabitable, you're screwed. Do you drink your own urine, contemplate cannabalism, and kill the old/weak to save air for the others? *Again, NOT suggesting any of these as viable options*

I don't have the money to waste on a bunker. Even if I did, I wouldn't. Because if I had that kind of money, I'd be buying my own space shuttle, loading up with supplies, and hoping to find another inhabitable planet before everything ran out. Frankly, I like the idea of floating amiably in space with my cats, books, stitching, choclate, and caffeine. Well, that is, I like the idea until I think of the thought of zero-G toilets. And not being able to have a proper bath...or cook...and imagining what kind of litter box area....hmmm, maybe I should leave the little fuzzy suckers to fend for themselves......

Nah. I'll just take my chances that we'll all live to see another day after December 21st. I could never leave my beloved cats behind, and unless I could come up with the money to take my closest friends/family members/crush of the moment, I wouldn't have anyone to interact with. Despite my fondness for solitude, I do like knowing that my loved ones are there if I need them. How could I leave them behind?

Anyway, those are my thoughts for this week. Feel free to tell me how you feel about the end of the world!

*yes, I am humming that R.E.M. song as I type this. You're welcome for the earworm now burrowing into your brain.