Friend: "Hey uh are you okay?"
Me: "Ya uh sure" my mind consumed with what is about to jump out at me
Then starts the true terror. Alone time.
I say goodbye and walk to my car, my head bobbing like one of those dash board doggies seeing if anyone is following me. I get my keys out unusually early so there is no fumbling. I unlock my car, jump in, lock it right back up, this way no one has time to get in. Then I check the car again just to make sure no ninjas have secretly been in my car waiting for days.
As I drive home I have images of men with chainsaws jumping out in front of me, or some nails someone threw in the road popping my tires. By the time I have to decide which way to go up my hill I'm completely irrational. I go by pure instinct because obviously my good instincts will save me in any horror movie.
Things get even worse when I get to my house the small walk from my car up the stairs and in the house is now the longest obstacle course ever. I have to make sure that no one is sneaking up behind the car, that no one is hiding under the stairs and that no wild animals are in the dogs yard. I sprint up the stairs flailing all of my things around just in case something dares try to get me I'll whack it with my computer bag and boom I win (there was also a short period of time where I would honk, in case of bears). I get in my house and immediately lock all the doors and check the rooms... everywhere but the basement. If there is something in the basement I'm straight fucked. By the time I feel safe every single light in the entire house is on and I'm curled up on the couch thinking about the monstrosity that I just watched. My brave proud feeling I had when I first began this miserable journey is absolutely gone. Finally I get the courage to go to bed, surrender to whatever killer is hiding in the house. I have a specific pattern for the lights so I'm never truly in the dark. Washing my face is always scary I don't want to close my eyes then something is popping up in the mirror. To combat this, I wash one half of my face at a time, always keeping one eye open. I enter my room, luckily my closet doesn't have a door so I can always tell if it is safe or not. Here comes the grand finale... I take three long bounds and leap onto my bed, relief that nothing grabbed my ankle from under the bed (The Sixth Sense I blame you for that one). Shivering under the covers I realize that something that should have taken 30 minutes to get home and go to bed in reality took an extra hour and I vow to never watch a scary movie again.
On a completely unrelated note, everyone should follow me on this blog thing, because it makes me feel good. Yeah.
As I drive home I have images of men with chainsaws jumping out in front of me, or some nails someone threw in the road popping my tires. By the time I have to decide which way to go up my hill I'm completely irrational. I go by pure instinct because obviously my good instincts will save me in any horror movie.
Things get even worse when I get to my house the small walk from my car up the stairs and in the house is now the longest obstacle course ever. I have to make sure that no one is sneaking up behind the car, that no one is hiding under the stairs and that no wild animals are in the dogs yard. I sprint up the stairs flailing all of my things around just in case something dares try to get me I'll whack it with my computer bag and boom I win (there was also a short period of time where I would honk, in case of bears). I get in my house and immediately lock all the doors and check the rooms... everywhere but the basement. If there is something in the basement I'm straight fucked. By the time I feel safe every single light in the entire house is on and I'm curled up on the couch thinking about the monstrosity that I just watched. My brave proud feeling I had when I first began this miserable journey is absolutely gone. Finally I get the courage to go to bed, surrender to whatever killer is hiding in the house. I have a specific pattern for the lights so I'm never truly in the dark. Washing my face is always scary I don't want to close my eyes then something is popping up in the mirror. To combat this, I wash one half of my face at a time, always keeping one eye open. I enter my room, luckily my closet doesn't have a door so I can always tell if it is safe or not. Here comes the grand finale... I take three long bounds and leap onto my bed, relief that nothing grabbed my ankle from under the bed (The Sixth Sense I blame you for that one). Shivering under the covers I realize that something that should have taken 30 minutes to get home and go to bed in reality took an extra hour and I vow to never watch a scary movie again.
On a completely unrelated note, everyone should follow me on this blog thing, because it makes me feel good. Yeah.
I like the smell of film. I just like knowing there's film going through the camera.
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