|
Big Fat 'Fraidy Cat
Turns out - I'm a huge chicken. This comes as no surprise to anyone who has ever tried to talk me into picking up the phone and calling a boy, but it came as quite a surprise to me on Saturday night when I found myself tossing and turning all night as visions of deranged men hovering over me with an ice pick floated through my brain. It didn't help that Oliver would jump out of bed every half hour and stand nudging my hand with his cold wet nose and making short grunty noises until I aknowledged him. I let him out in the backyard 5 times between 1 a.m. and 4 a.m. early Sunday morning. Each time I became more and more paranoid. By the time I let him out at 3:00 a.m. I had visions of dead bodies in the backyard (I mean, why else would Oliver, who is usually quite happy to crawl into bed hours before I even get there, suddenly want to run crazy and free outside in the wee small hours of the morning?) and the conviction that if I turned on the floodlight that illuminates the backyard, there would no doubt be a crazed lunatic standing and staring back at me. I immediately slammed the door and locked it. Oliver can fend for himself. He's the one with the razor sharp teeth and nails. Shut up. In any case, we both made it through the night alive (if a little sleep deprived) and the morning light showed no signs of dead bodies or crazed lunatics. I hope I'm going crazy. I think it's because I watched "Identity" all by myself right before I went to bed. I used to be so hard core about stuff like that, but apparently the older I get the more snivelly I get...or something. In any case, scary movies will only be watched in the company of others from now on. I also need a night light. Reading: Living to Tell by Antonya Nelson. Yes, that means I finally finished Farm Fatale by Wendy Holden. Again - that story had so much potential and it just never took off. My conclusion (after reading two of her books) is that Holden is a sloppy writer. I think that perhaps she has these great stories going on inside her head, but somewhere along the way they go horribly wrong - usually at the end. It takes a very special kind of talent to be able to end a book in a satisfactory manner and...well...Holden doesn't have that talent. In any case, Living To Tell is so far so good. More on that once I get past the 100 page mark. Recently Saw: The Vikings. Shut up. Carnivale on Sunday night. Ohhhhh man I love that show. It's so dark and sinister feeling and I think I must be pretty dense, but I am having a really hard time telling who the good guys are and who the bad guys are. There are only 2 episodes left this season, they're bound to be stunners. Identity on Saturday night - and after that big post about how I was scared out of my mind after watching it, I would like to just say that I didn't find the movie that scary. I mean, it wasn't enough to really hold my attention from start to finish. I sat in front of my computer playing snood until about 20 minutes towards the end when it finally hooked me. I think what happened is that my mind - which is far too creative for its own good, just latched onto the "psychotic lunatic killer" idea and wouldn't let go of it. Maybe that's the point. In any case, the movie was O.K. John Cusack is still my boyfriend after all these years.
|
NAVIGATE
new
|