As I'm sitting here watching Project Runway reruns (say that three times fast) waiting for Hugs to come home, a commercial comes on with Noah Wyle (do y'all remember him from ER...Dr. Carter, was it? aww...such a cutie) and a chattie chat about saving the polar bears...yeah, the polar bears...I thought it was weird, too. I don't know what's up with the bears, cuz I wasn't really watching the commercial...I was too busy giggling every time he gave the camera a super serious glare as he said "You, too, can help save the polar bears." And hear me out, I think it's great to do what we can to help endangered species, but I mean, you had to see it. Go youtube it. It was just SO. SERIOUS. And I didn't know polar bears were in trouble. ANYWAY. The white polar bears reminded me of this preview I saw for this movie when I was yahooing stuff earlier (yes, I have done absolutely nothing productive all day today. I have been sitting on this couch since about 10:03 am and I've gotten up twice to potty and once to feed myself...oh, and once to let the dog out...oh, and once to help the dog because the cat cornered him in the office and wouldn't let him out...so, it's not been entirely unproductive. I have spent the past three days completely organizing and cleaning my house. It's been better than a month-long vacation. If you know me, cleaning and organizing are like cocaine-cleaning and cocaine-organizing to me...I love to do both. Not drugs...just cleaning and organizing. I talk about drugs a lot, don't I? Moving on. So, I wanted to take today and wrap it up and slap a big bow on it and give it to myself as a present...so, back to me sitting on the couch all day.)
What was my reason for writing this post???......oh yeah!! Monsters. Okay, so the polar bear commercial came on and it reminded me of this preview for a movie I saw...for the life of me, I can't remember the name of the movie, but it comes out in January...hang on, let me google it...Unborn! That's the name of it. It's about these twins...one wasn't born...monsters...a creepy white dog thing with its head upside down...people walking around weird...yeah, sounds like a good movie. Don't go watch the preview if you get scared easily like me. I'll have nightmares for about three days just cuz of the preview. The dog thing really creeped me out, but I couldn't stop watching it. I don't do horror movies...at all. The last horror movie I saw was Amittyville Horror, I think. I don't even like realistic crime/murder movies...those are the worst cuz it's stuff that can actually happen. I don't pay $9/person to be scared and have crazy dreams for days. I want to see the stereotypical chick flick where the guy and the girl hate each other, then love each other and then something happens and she won't forgive him, but then at the very end, they get together, of course. I want to laugh and go "awwww" and maybe shed a tiny tear or two.
I've been afraid of monsters my entire life. I'm 26 years old and yes, I take a leaping jump to get into the bed, so the octopus monster that's always been under there can't grab me with his sucker-riddled tentacle arms. After I turn my lamp off and give sweet David a hug and kiss goodnight, I pull the covers over my head and refuse to open my eyes because I know that the ambient light coming off the alarm clock will show that the ghost girl from the Grudge is actually in my ceiling...her long, black hair snaking its way through through the crown-molded corners of our bedroom. Even if it's 1,206 degrees inside, I always always always have to have a sheet and comforter protecting my body from the sharp claws of the red-cladded Village monster...fake or not, that thing was SCARY. A simple sheet won't protect me, but the addition of the feather-stuffed comforter makes all the difference in the world. I pull the sheets closest to the open side of the bed tight tight tight to my body so nothing can come by stealth up that way.
I credit my irrational fear of things that don't exist to my sister...yes you, Sara. Thanks, ole buddy. When I was a little girl, she would tell me stories of It the Clown (who's not afraid of that guy) and Mike, the Unconnected Hand (yes, his name was Mike). I swear I could hear the pitter patter of fingertips on my bedroom floor at night. For about three years, I slept in the incandescent bask of every single light in my room turned on, sitting straight up, propped up by pillows...just in case I needed to react to something quickly. I had/still have an escape route for any situation. I've heard every single ghost story ever created and I believed all of them...I also believed all of the ghosts or monsters in the stories hid in various places in my room. For years I thought the distance dong ching ding was an old witch playing our piano at night...tapping one key at a time...slowly...monotonously...with one, shriveled finger...until I realized it was the medals from horse shows, Bible drills, and piano recitals clanking together against my wall as the breeze from the fan disturbed their slumber. Of course, I never told my parents because Sara said that ghosts "don't like tattle tails." Eventually, I did tell my parents, risking the wrath of the banshees...Sara got into loads of trouble...and I grew out of my ridiculously imaginative childhood ways...and this was all last month. My family does still give me a hard time about the Unconnected Hand...as shown by a Christmas gift a few years ago...a green glass ring holder...a single hand reaching skyward...ghostly fingers outstretched...awaiting precious metals and stones...and your souls...wah ha haaaa...ack...cough cough...anyways.
The only monster that still gives me a little jump is the werewolf. I can't stand werewolves. Odd, because my dog looks just like one...
and he's just as sweet and cuddly as can be...I think. He may transform during a full moon...I dunno. But, I can't do werewolf movies...vampires, no problem. Regular ghosts...piece of cake. Little girl ghosts...negative. Swamp things...maybe.
So, I don't believe in ghosts or monsters anymore. But I mean, come on...who doesn't pick up a little speed when walking from the garage to the bedroom in the pitch blackness in the dead of night...just in case something creepy is watching you through the window...nobody? Just me? You're all liars.
Anyways. My puddin bear just got home early! Woot! So, we're gonna make some supper and head to see a movie...Bedtime Stories...shouldn't be too scary. Adam Sandler is a little weird...but I think it'll be fine.