Scary Movie Nights

   My sister and I love to be afraid, but we hate to be afraid alone. Hence the birth of scary movie nights, which are nights where we stay over at the other's apartment, let the kids run rampant in their rooms, fix a nice dinner for everyone, and let the terror begin. Except, some nights there is not much terror, because horror is really a hit-or-miss genre. Some of the stuff we have watched was really, incredibly stupid. Lose IQ stupid. We are dumber people for watching those movies, literally.
   But some nights we do find the hit. And then it's awesome, because there is nothing better then sister-baiting after a good scary movie. After Paranormal Activity, every time there was a strange noise, I took great joy in telling my sister that it must have been Katie. We watched that movie when we still lived together, and in the apartment we lived in, we had a funny burner on the stove range. When you would put a pan on this burner, the pan would slide off. Sometimes not right away either; sometimes the pan would wait until it was full of hot food and then slide off, and I swore up and down to my sister that this was the work of the demon from Paranormal Activity.
    After Sinister, waiting for my sister in the car to take the kiddos to karate, she came up and asked who was sitting in the driver's seat. We all replied no one, because no one was, but she insisted that she had seen someone, so I took the opportunity to lay the blame at Mr. Boogie's feet. She didn't even want to get into the car after that.
   Recently, we watched Mama, and as I came back into the room after spending time getting ready for bed in the bathroom, as she was just drifting off into dreamland, I leaned over and whispered softly into her ear,  "Momma." Which earned me my favorite reaction yet, her sitting up in bed and shrieking "GOD DAMMIT, Marie!!!!" My sister is a really loud person, with a voice that carries, so I would not be surprised if all my neighbors heard her lovely sentiment as they drifted off to slumber land themselves.
   These are the best moments for me; the awesome moments that really make all that family time really worthwhile. Sister-baiting is the greatest entertainment in the universe. Of course, the strangest thing of all is how my sister gets so frightened in the first place, because she doesn't actually give her complete attention to the movie playing. During the scariest part of any movie that we watch, if you look over at her to see her reaction, you will notice that she is not looking at the screen at all. She will be on her computer playing facebook games, glancing at me to get my reaction so that she can tell when the worst is over.

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There are no words for that.

   

The Dolls With Big Eyes

They are looking at me. 

   I was vacuuming my apartment, a shocker, I know, but I have company coming so I wanted everything to be nice. I started on my daughter's bedroom, and something was bothering me. I was jumpy and kinda freaked, but at first I wasn't sure why. Then it hit me. The dolls. Their eyes were following me all around the room. Everywhere I moved, those big eyes seemed to be looking straight at me.
   Ever tried vacuuming a room under that kind of stress? Not easy, but I know myself, and I know that no freaky doll eyes are really following me. I can't shake the feeling of being watched though, and I keep glancing nervously at the dolls, which sit on my daughter's desk. My daughter has a workstation bed, which is similar to a bunk bed, but with a desk area on the bottom instead of a lower bunk, and the bed on top, which is full size. She sleeps, every single night, with these dolls right beneath her. And the fact that she has placed them on her precious desk means that they have some value to her, so I can't go chunk them in the trash bin outside, which has crossed my mind.

The root of this fear. 

   Besides, they aren't doing anything right now, but what if throwing them in the trash bin sets them on a murderous rampage? Nuh-uhh! I am not messing with those dolls, but I don't take my eyes off of them the entire time I am vacuuming the room. And I am glad that my daughter is not here to witness her mother's fruit cake freak-out. Because I know good and well that there is nothing alive about those  dolls, and their eyes just seem to be following me because doll makers use big ass eyes in dolls. The problem in not the dolls. The problem is that I watched Chucky to many damn times. But I love to be freaked out, and I can never seem to help myself when I come across a scary movie. I have to watch it. This is the price that  I pay, I guess. I have to freak out about things like murderous dolls, evil furbies, possessed furniture, gremlins, and witch's knifes. I need to stop watching all that supernatural mumbo-jumbo, but I can't help myself! I have two freak-out flicks planned to watch with my sister this very night, and I'm just gonna ignore those big-eyed dolls in the next room. Bring on the fear!!!