IQ - Scawy
Who's a slacker?
I AM!!!
I haven't posted anything in a couple of weeks. Whoops.
So, here we are, coming up on the Hallowe'en weekend, and I am bombarded with ads for the various and sundry haunted houses around town every time I leaf through the paper.
I don't do haunted houses. Those of you who know me, know that I don't do well with freaky-ass things. I can handle a movie with some violence (a la Lethal Weapon, Indiana Jones, etc). But a film that sets me to wondering whether perhaps a madman with a knife has gotten into my basement without my noticing, despite the fact that I'e been home all day? Or a TV show that makes my skin crawl by showing me a man being eaten alive by ants? Uh-uh. Just can't do it. The logical part of my head (it does exist, you just haven't seen it very often) gets pushed aside rather abruptly and gagged by the illogical part of my head that sees no reason why the life-sized brass rubbing of the 16th-century knight that used to hang in my parents' stairway shouldn't suddenly come to lie and chase me down. So no haunted houses for me, thanks.
The last time I was in one was when I was probably 15 or 16. Aside from the room in which there lay a coffin precisely like the one my friend had been laid to rest in some weeks earlier (oh, yeah, THAT opened the floodgates), there was another room that scared me. No, terrified me. Petrifed. Paralyzed. Beyond consolation. I realize now that the chainsaw this man was wielding probably did not have an actual chain on it, and therefore would not have severed my leg from my body with unbearable pain and torture. But when he cornered me (and the saw was running, that much I'm sure of), you could not have convinced me otherwise, without having Christ himself make an appearance.
I screamed myself hoarse, because I really did believe my life was in danger. And no amount of back-patting/hugs/reassurance from my friends (who did manage to stop giggling at me, once they realized that I was about to actually go into severe hyperventilation) would convince me that it was all just in fun. No sir, not fun at all.
So I'll let the rest of you whose brains are actually grounded in all lobes attend the haunted houses. I'll be waiting outside, noshing on caramel apples and concentrating on looking at the prettypretty moon. Or pondering your answers to today's Insightful Question:
What are you afraid of? What terrifies you? What irrational fear do you have?
As for me, the fear of being stabbed in the back as I come up the stairs from my basement is a pretty strong one (never mind that I've just been down there and know for certain that nobody else is there). And as for things that might (indeed will) eventually happen, I'm pretty frightened of the day I come home and one of my pets doesn't greet me at the door anymore.
That, and the idea that perhaps Congress will change our Constitution and allow Dubya one more term.
*shudder*
I AM!!!
I haven't posted anything in a couple of weeks. Whoops.
So, here we are, coming up on the Hallowe'en weekend, and I am bombarded with ads for the various and sundry haunted houses around town every time I leaf through the paper.
I don't do haunted houses. Those of you who know me, know that I don't do well with freaky-ass things. I can handle a movie with some violence (a la Lethal Weapon, Indiana Jones, etc). But a film that sets me to wondering whether perhaps a madman with a knife has gotten into my basement without my noticing, despite the fact that I'e been home all day? Or a TV show that makes my skin crawl by showing me a man being eaten alive by ants? Uh-uh. Just can't do it. The logical part of my head (it does exist, you just haven't seen it very often) gets pushed aside rather abruptly and gagged by the illogical part of my head that sees no reason why the life-sized brass rubbing of the 16th-century knight that used to hang in my parents' stairway shouldn't suddenly come to lie and chase me down. So no haunted houses for me, thanks.
The last time I was in one was when I was probably 15 or 16. Aside from the room in which there lay a coffin precisely like the one my friend had been laid to rest in some weeks earlier (oh, yeah, THAT opened the floodgates), there was another room that scared me. No, terrified me. Petrifed. Paralyzed. Beyond consolation. I realize now that the chainsaw this man was wielding probably did not have an actual chain on it, and therefore would not have severed my leg from my body with unbearable pain and torture. But when he cornered me (and the saw was running, that much I'm sure of), you could not have convinced me otherwise, without having Christ himself make an appearance.
I screamed myself hoarse, because I really did believe my life was in danger. And no amount of back-patting/hugs/reassurance from my friends (who did manage to stop giggling at me, once they realized that I was about to actually go into severe hyperventilation) would convince me that it was all just in fun. No sir, not fun at all.
So I'll let the rest of you whose brains are actually grounded in all lobes attend the haunted houses. I'll be waiting outside, noshing on caramel apples and concentrating on looking at the prettypretty moon. Or pondering your answers to today's Insightful Question:
What are you afraid of? What terrifies you? What irrational fear do you have?
As for me, the fear of being stabbed in the back as I come up the stairs from my basement is a pretty strong one (never mind that I've just been down there and know for certain that nobody else is there). And as for things that might (indeed will) eventually happen, I'm pretty frightened of the day I come home and one of my pets doesn't greet me at the door anymore.
That, and the idea that perhaps Congress will change our Constitution and allow Dubya one more term.
*shudder*
posted by PammyJean at 4:44 pm
6 Comments:
I have no fear. Fears yes, multiple ones in fact. I've always watched those documentaries about mysterious happenings. Then ususally after I go bed, something moves that wasn't supposed, or so I think. Ghosts, well maybe.
Aliens, more than likely. Too friggin' real for me (they exist). I watch the skies and ponder. Then I freak out. Of course the one I like the most is courtesy of the movie American Werewolf in London. I'm walking home and going up the stairs to my apartment, and there it is, some beast ready to chase me, and then rip me to shreds.
Can't say as there's a whole lot that truly scares me, especially when I know it's just a put-on. But, I gotta admit that some of the sound recordings at the Bigfoot Researchers Organization site freak me out a little, especially the 911 call.
And I know this may sound silly, but for some reason the movie The Blair Witch Project freaks me out completely. Perhaps it was that I first watched it alone, in the dark. Or perhaps it's the subject matter: campers being terrorized. Or perhaps it's "first-person perspective". Or maybe all three and more. But that movie really, really gets me.
Eesh - many, many things...from the silly all the way to terrifying. But mostly creepy. Silly things - spiders and miller moths. Terrifying - anything that jumps out at me that I didn't see coming (I'm with Pam - I can't do haunted houses for that very reason). Creepy - the ideas in Blair Witch Project (the ending scene really gets me), The Sixth Sense (I believe that stuff happens, but I don't think I could handle it happening to me) and Seven (thoughtful killers terrify me) - among other things that would take too long to list out here (plus I'm giving myself the heebee jeebees just thinking about it now).
In no particular order.
1. Clowns
2. Old age
3. Dentists
4. People who still think Bush is a good president.
5. Fundies of any stripe.
Oh wait, you asked for irrational fears.
None then. :-)
Fundies?
So I'm guessing you don't watch the TV show "Supernatural." ;) I love it and yet it scares the crap out of me everytime!
As for fears, well deep water creeps me out to the point where it's hard for me to swim in the deep end of a pool. You can blame watching "Jaws" at the age of 7 or 8!
Irrational? not really sure cause none of 'em feel irrational! Spiders, bugs, ants. Basically anything that bites cause I tend to swell up. Had a nasty dream once in which my brothers dumped a bag of bugs on top of me.
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