Be Careful What You Wish For

I start out the day with one goal: write a post honoring America's celebration of blood, guts, goblins, and the unknown. After reading Isabel's haunted house story, I'm inspired to share stories about the strange goings-on that've taken place in my own family's apartment building, specifically on the first floor, after its occupant, my grandmother, passed away in 2000. Only the thing is, those goings-on didn't happen to me but to my siblings, so I leave cryptic messages on Ryan's and Samantha's voice mails after work, soliciting their personal experiences for shameless exploitation and cheap thrills for all the Internet to see. I'm able to make contact with my brother Geo, who doesn't have any stories about Nana but is kind enough to remind me that a woman died in one of the first-floor bedrooms and a man killed himself in our garage via carbon monoxide poisoning. "You can blog about that," he says.

By this time it's seven o'clock, and two of our friends have arrived for a private showing of The Exorcism of Emily Rose, a find I was quite proud of, a find that confirmed my suspicions that the desire to take in a respectable horror flick on Halloween must be regarded as a top priority not to be delegated to the last minute. (I painfully learned this lesson last year when Luke and I waited until the night of to check out a movie and were forced to succomb to the mediocrity that is The House of Wax.) We watch the movie, during which the phone rings twice, both return calls from each of my sisters wanting to scare the bejeezus out of me with tales of my grandmother running through the hallway of the first-floor apartment she occupied for sixteen years prior to her death at the same time I'm watching a college student gorge holes in the walls with her fingernails and spit out various names of The Devil in foreign tongues. I get ahold of Samantha after the movie and share with her my new fear that I'll wake up at three o'clock in the morning with visions of spiritual torture and reprimand. I tell her I still have one more movie to go and am now debating the intelligence of subjecting myself to Saw II. "Maybe you should, so you can get the nightmares over with all at once," she says.

Thanks, Sissy. Happy Halloween to you, too.

It's moments like this in which I find myself thankful for having What About Bob? in my possession. Much to Luke's chagrin.

Comments

[debra]

Dr. Leo Marvin: All I want is some peace and quiet!

Bob Wiley: Okay I'll be quiet.

Siggy: And I'll be peace!


I SO LUV that movie! (Sorry Luke)

[Liz]

House of Wax! Now that's scary.

[mhutchinson]

I love watching them, but hate trying to sleep afterwards. We watched The Amityville Horror, THAT was scary. Had my husband on one side, and my teenager on the other, all holding hands. (or whatever I could get hold of)
Never saw house of wax.

[Kelley]

I've been meaning to see House of Wax. I can't explain it; it's some kind of primal rubber-necking thing.

I love What About Bob? Is it too late to add vintage Bill Murray to your list?

[Lost A Sock]

You crazy thing you. I will never, never intentionally scare the bejeezus out of myself.

Try Weekend at Bernie's next time. It's got a dead guy, and yet nothing to keep you up all night. Or, Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead. But I don't remember that one well enough to recall the babysitter actually being dead? I just remember Christina Applegate being very, very cool to my young teenage self.

[Silly Hily]

Mol, I think the babysitter is actually dead in that movie. I like your "scary" movies. B/c I don't do the real scary movies. Can't. I freak myself out too much. Frema, I've never even seen Friday the 13th or Halloween or Nightmare on Elm Street or the original Exorcist. Yes, yes, it's true. Never seen them! I'm a big fat chicken. Bwak bwak.

[Luke]

And you didn't even have to be escorted to the bathroom last night, but then we didn't watch Saw II yet.

[David McNelis]

Baby steps to the elevator. Baby steps down the hall. Baby steps into the cab. Baby steps to the kitchen. Baby steps to the drawer. Baby steps to the knife. Baby steps to jab my....ow! that really hurts!

:)

That was one of my family's favorites growing up.

[mjd]

I saw part of The Exorcism of Emily Rose. Guess where? In church, PT showed the part where Emily Rose was apparently possessed, and the priest was there to exorcise the demons. Did you like the movie?