Happy Halloween!

A lot of you know about my obsession for all things dark and macabre. So it comes as no surprise that I really, really enjoy a good horror flick.

Over the past couple of years, I've sort of made it my personal mission to find the scariest movie ever made. About two years ago, my brother and I actually sat down and watched about a thousand hours of film in this quest. And you know what?

The more movies I watched, the less scared I became.

I've sat through countless hours of stabbings, disembowelments, freakish monster rapes, eye-gouging, brain eatings and a lot of limbs being hacked off with piano wires and I have to say, nothing really shocks me anymore.

It's kind of eerie, this desensitization, and perhaps that's the most frightening thing of all.

The way I look at it there are three different kinds of scary: there is the visually graphic, gory, special effects kind of scary (i.e. House of 1,000 Corpses, Hellraiser), then there is the element of surprise scary (i.e. The Ring, The Grudge), then the psychologically disturbing scary (Last House on the Left, Audition).

What I am in search of is a movie that has a subtle mix of all three. Something so scary you feel the urge to leave right in the middle, or so scary that you have trouble separating the movie from reality--trouble seeing past the fact that "it's just a movie". And I'm not interested in snuff films or anything of that nature. Just pure, dark creativity.

What I'm looking for is a controlled thrill, a playground for my fears. If I could bottle the way it felt watching Nightmare on Elm Street for the first time at 10 years old huddled under a blanket on my parent's couch, breath scared right out of my lungs, palms sweating, riveted....I would patent that shit and sell it as a drug.

Because it sure is addictive.

That dark underbelly of things. Unchartered fear.

And you can be sure if there is an unexplored, poorly lit hallway, I'm going down it.

So now, a few of my favorites.

The Eye
Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original)
Un Chien andalou
The Thing (remake)
In Cold Blood
Ôdishon (Audition)
Poltergeist
Young Poisoner's Handbook
Last House on the Left
In the Mouth of Madness
Jacob's Ladder
Jaws
The Exorcist
The Ring
Suspiria
When A Stranger Calls (original)
Spoorloos (The Vanishing)
The Descent
A Clockwork Orange

Happy scaring!

I'm going to eat your children.

I am Jack's broken heart.

1911-2007

Thanks to everyone for all their love and support. Losing a family member is hard, but it's harder not to wonder where I would be without all of you.

Last night my mom, sister and I went through old albums picking out photos of my Grandma for the service on Thursday. The thing is, I wasn't sad. Only when I was driving back home in the rain by myself did it really hit me.

You know all that guilt and regret that is so classically movie-scripted that people feel when someone dies? I always thought that was so cliche; that I'd never be one of those people. But I have to tell you, those emotions have me by the throat right now, feet dangling.

I could have been a better granddaughter. I could have visited when I said I would. I could have called more. Squeezed harder when I hugged her goodbye. Listened more intently.

I could have done all of that and now here I am, a fatally flawed character in my own tragic movie script. Reading the same lines that every character before me read. Going through the same motions that I scorned so easily as an observer before.

Then I remember how amazing her life was. Living through the Great Depression, raising a family of successful children all by herself, being a loving grandparent to 11 and great-grandparent to 19.

I can only hope to be lucky enough to live 96 full years with the people I love.

I'll miss you Grandma and I loved you very much.

...

Today has been the most explicably complicated, sad day I have had in a while.

And I realize I am very lucky to be able to say that. One day is not so bad in the scheme of things.

Hahahahahaaaaaa.

This photo just surfaced from my Housewarming Party last weekend.

I think it pretty much says it all.

My adorable, adorable (did I mention adorable?) niece.

F*#k you, f**$#ing gas station attendant at the BP on Clark & LaSalle!

For the SECOND time, the unintelligable gas station attendant at the BP near my house fucked me over. No, literally bent me over my car with his sneakly prowess for undermining innocent customers.

Let me preface this with I rarely stop at that BP because it's always overpriced and crowded, but I was running late this morning, so it left me no choice.

The only pump open was Full Service, and I didn't have the time or patience to maneuver into Self to wait, so I pulled up.

And there he was. My nemesis.

A cocksucker with a clipboard.

"$15, Regular, Unleaded please."We stare at each other for a moment intensely like two gun fighters in a western showdown.

He says, "Will that be cash or credit?"

I hear, "I'm about to fuck you big time."

He fills the tank as some jackass behind me inches closer to my bumper. The station is packed and I need to get on the road to work. I hear "Lanes blocked at Stockton & LaSalle due to an earlier accident" on the radio.

I sigh defeatedly as the attendant walks up to my window and shoves a crumpled receipt into my hands.

"Thanks", I mutter and shift to drive to try and catch the light at Clark & North. By the time I uncrumple the receipt, I am already speeding down Lake Shore Drive with the rest of the morning commuters.

"$45.50!!!???"

That motherfucker got me again.

I drive a Toyota Scion XB. It clearly does not need premium gas. Hell, I could fill it with lawnmower clippings and it would run. The most I ever pay to fill up is $25, if that. My knuckles turn white against my black steering wheel.

At this point I am pissed and shove the crumpled receipt back into my purse. I drive angry all the way to work.

And it's raining. And traffic blew on the Stevenson. And now I'm at the office and someone drank my Vitamin Water.

Fuck you, October 16, 2007.

I'm done with you.

Once again, I toy with the idea of becoming a grown up.

I know a lot of you have seen me through many iterations of my famed Sidekick. Love it or hate it, it is always with me.



Most of you remember this, which was my first horrific experience leaving my Sidekick for the Motorola Q. Those were dark, dark days. I was like an addict going through withdrawal.

For the sake of my professional career, I'm going to attempt to kick this juvenile habit once again.



Wish me luck.

Photos are surfacing...

Table Eight 4 Life.

Grand Hotel, Minneapolis, MN: 7:00 p.m. CST

These are the only two photos I captured before my camera died. I think the one of Chris wearing my earring is especially frameable.

These are proof that I did attend Em's wedding, even with a fever and head that felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls.

Word.

Daily News.

I found this article to be incredibly interesting. Mostly because I don't share the view of my fellow countrymen that the culture of Americans is superior to that of other countries.

"American culture" seems like an oxy moron to me.

Read me!

Sorry, Peter, no mention of America Jr. Er, *cough, cough* I mean, Canada.

Congratulations, Emily & Matt!

This weekend I am flying to Minneapolis for my good friend Emily's wedding. Emily and I are like two peas in a pod. Judge for yourself below:



Em and I met through the lovely blog community, Xanga. Of which I used to be an active member.

Normally, I don't befriend girls that easily. Girls are catty and judgmental. I think the reason we get along so well is that we were both upfront about our cattiness and passed judgments right from the beginning. Well, four years later, she is still one of my main bitches. It seems like literally yesterday we were both nursing broken hearts, leaning on each other, and now look at you. All growns up!

Anyways Em, I love you and can't wait to see you this weekend! I won't forget something blue, mama. :)