Psycho

Yesterday was Halloween, in case you didn't know. So what did my overly-active imagination self do? I went to an outdoor showing of Alfred Hitchcock's 1960 film Psycho, where I finally watched the #14 movie on the AFI's 100 Greatest Films. I have now watched 39 of the top 100 films - must work on this. I'm not a huge fan of suspenseful movies, and last night was no exception. I thought the movie was okay, though highly unbelievable at times. At other points, I was hiding my face behind the blanket I brought, and covering my ears so that I couldn't hear the slasher music.

Once I got home, I checked every possible hiding place in my apartment. I checked my laundry room to make sure nobody was crouched on top of my washing machine waiting for me. I checked the pantry and my linen closet (in which only the skinniest of people could fit), my coat closet, behind my shower curtain, in my bedroom closet (I kicked my clothes to make sure villains weren't hiding behind my dresses), under the pillows on my bed, under my giant stuff dog, on my porch, under my dining room table, behind my couches, and behind all of the doors. And yes, I realize that some of these places were impossibilities. I mean, who could actually hide in a ball under my giant stuffed dog without me noticing. The person would take up space under the dog, so I hope I would have noticed that the stuffed animal was much higher into the air. Once I was done with my excessive checking, I wedged a door stop under my front door, and promptly slept like a baby.

I explained to my friends last night that I sometimes have terrifying zombie nightmares. I used to watch zombie movies without any issues, but ever since I watched Saw for the first time 3 years ago, I started having zombie nightmares. Weird, right? There aren't any zombies in Saw, so why would I have a zombie nightmare from Saw? When I wake up from these dreams terrified, I have to use logic to reason myself down from my state of frozen terror...

1. Zombies don't exist.

2. If they did exist, why would they be here in Texas?

3. If zombies were in Texas, why haven't they rotted from humidity already?

4. If zombies exist in Texas and have managed to withstand the humidity, why are they at my apartment complex?

5. If zombies are at my complex, why have they chosen to climb up to my floor?
6. If zombies are on my floor, why MY apartment?
7. If zombies are in my apartment, why would they be hiding in the other room, in my closet, and in my bathroom, waiting for me to wake up before eating me? Seriously, they would have attacked while I slept, right?

So, once I've talked myself through these steps, I work up the nerve to roll over and switch on the lamp next to my bed. Then I roll back over and lay unmoving until I've fully reassured myself that there are no zombies running at me and trying to eat my brains. Finally, once my eyes have started to droop again, I turn the light back off and go to sleep.

And that, my friends, is how I handle scary movies.