Personally, I have a love/hate relationship with horror flicks. I really like to watch them. Really, I wouldn’t turn one down no matter how “B-rated” it may be. Zombie movies are my favorite, but I will watch ANYTHING. In fact, I got started on “horror movies” way earlier than the average pup. I’m not sure whether my mom just didn’t see anything wrong with showing them to me, or if she really didn’t think they would affect me- but I can honestly say I remember watching Poltergeist at 5 years old.

As much as I like them  and I appreciate that my mother didn’t censor them from me, I have a feeling that movies of the horror genre had a greater influence on me than anyone would have guessed. You might even say I have been scarred for life. So in light of it being “National Scary Movie Week” or at least “My House Scary Movie Week ,” I share with you the 5 movies that had the most profound affect on me as a child.

Arachnophobia: I recently re-watched this movie and I have come to the conclusion that I must have been thinking of a different movie. When I watched it way back when, it was definitely, in no way shape or form- a comedy. This movie absolutely terrified me. I remember making my sister come and sit in the bathroom with me while I showered because I was thoroughly convinced that a spider was going to come up the drain and instantly kill me with it’s poisonous venom. I was scared to eat popcorn because of the scene where a spider is in the bottom of the bowl.  And to this day, if I see a spider, no matter what breed- chances are you will see me pull a cartoon and run straight through the door.

Child’s Play: I have to preface this with the fact that my parents were of the belief that I really liked playing with dolls. Every year they would drag me to the local doll show and buy weird creepy used dolls that I had to pretend to enjoy. Truth was, the only “dolls” I ever really loved was a Teddy Bear named Teddy, and my Teddy Ruxpin.  Even before I saw this movie I was convinced that my dolls would come alive when no one was around. I blame this on my viewing of Jim Henson’s “A Christmas Toy” about a kajillion times. (If you haven’t seen this, it was basically an earlier, more primitive version of “The Toy Story.”) I was already very sensitive about my doll’s feelings, and didn’t want any of them to feel more important than the others. So after I caught a viewing of Child’s Play at the ripe old age of 7, I was more scared than ever to piss any of my dolls off. Every night before I snuggled up to Teddy, (the regular stuffed animal not Ruxpin because he was hard) I would walk around my room and kiss each and every doll goodnight and tell them that I loved them.

There was one doll in particular that frightened me the most. It was nearly life sized and had red unruly hair, very a la’ Chucky. I grew convinced that this particular doll in a one piece swimsuit would be my demise. I paid it extra special attention, even though it really frightened the bejeezus out of me. I started noticing that it was never in the same place that I left it. I finally told my mother and she swore that she would get rid of it for good. She said she burned it. Years later, when I was a Junior in High School I came home to find that swimsuit doll on my day bead. You might say I went a little ballistic. I thought it had come back for the sequel. My family thought it was hilarious.

Image by Echo9er via Flickr

Pet Cemetery: My dad grew up in the house where my grandparent’s still live. He had 3 other siblings, and came from a family that really loved animals. I loved my grandparent’s house because they had woods in their backyard where my cousins and I would frolic and build forts and such. I loved it all, except for one little area, just barely visible from the back room where I had to sleep. Their pet cemetery. Ah hells no. This shit even has gravestones and everything. I never really thought much about it until I saw the movie. Then I would think of practically any excuse not to have to stay over at their house (even though it was my favorite place on earth) and if I did have to stay the night I would ask to sleep with my sister. On the occasions where I had no choice but to sleep in the back room, I would stay up all night, one eye steadily focused  the white grave stone in the distance. I imagined seeing dogs and cats and raccoons rise from the graves to attack me. Those gravestones still scare me to this day.

Image via Wikipedia

Jaws: My mom had an obsession with pretty much everything that could hurt me (vampires, zombies, spiders, boogie men) and sharks were no exception. Jaws was one of her favorite movies, and consequently one of the movies that I watched as a very young child. As if that movie didn’t scar me enough, every summer my family would make a six hour drive to the coast. My mother would spend the entire six hours reading true stories of shark attacks out loud. As a result, I spent the better half of every summer vacation scouting the ocean for sharks. While my cousins would all take their floats out as far as they could go, I would stay knee deep-eyes out.  I am finally to the point where I’m not afraid to go in the water, but you can bet I would be VERY aware of any dorsal-like fins that may appear in my near vicinity (3 square miles, to be exact.)

The Return to Oz: I haven’t seen this in a very long time (because damnit it was scary) but I do remember it quite clearly. I think. Am I even thinking of the right movie? All of Dorothy’s old friends were stoned (in the turned to rock sense, not doing drugs…)

She meets up with a talking reindeer, a weird robot thingy called Tick-Tock, and a man with an empty pumpkin head. If that is not creepy, then I don’t know what is. I was mostly scared of the lady that changed her heads like they were wigs. Even Dorothy played by that scary girl from the Craft, and she is creepy enough by herself. I don’t have much else to say about this movie, but I know it terrified me.  The trailer is below, just in case you are curious.

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As always, stay classy on this wonderfully beautiful Tuesday.

I’m still trying to figure out blogging, more specifically WordPress, and I finally started my site’s makeover last night. Tell me what you think! It still needs a few adjustments, but I have to give a huge thanks you to my friend L.A. for the header, and my roommate D.  for helping me with the technical side of things. As soon as I figure out how, I will put up one of those blog roll thingies with all of your sites on it. I’m also apparently in dire need of a RSS feed button, so if anyone has any input on how to do so, please let me know! I’m completely in the dark about all this technological bull crap!

OK. I’m done with my moment of sap.

Now for what I really want to talk about today.

Women do not go to sleep nor wake up looking like they are about to go to freaking prom!!!

Movies have always had a way of misrepresenting women. I can overlook most of these stereotypes, but this one in particular is really starting to get on my frickin nerves!!!

Women in film always go to sleep in pretty gowns. They swoop their hair up and pin it into place, where it stays put all night long. Their just applied makeup never smears to make them look like a zombie raccoon. And they never have to put zit cream on their face or retainers on their teeth.

I feel it is my duty to disclose to any of you men who might be reading this, who have constantly been disappointed with the way your partners look when they go to sleep, or even more so, when they wake up. If you’re searching for a lady that looks like a “lady” 24 hours a day. You are shit out of luck.

I’m sure there are some exceptions out there. There are probably some women who brush their hair  fifty strokes before they go to sleep. There are probably some women who go to sleep in their makeup and somehow manage to wake up without looking like Johnny Depp in Edward Scissorhands. And I am positive that there are some women who go out and purchase nice teddies and silk gowns to sleep in, especially in the beginning of a relationship.

As for me-most of my sleep clothes are stained, bleached, and belong in the trashcan.

My favorite sleep attire is actually a mustard yellow sweatshirt that goes down to my knees, and I have been wearing it since I was in the 3rd grade. The 3rd freakin grade. Back then it was a pretty yellow sweat dress that went down to my ankles. These days, I have chewed holes for my thumbs to go through, and there are spots on it that I do not want to identify. It has been washed so many times that it’s practically paper thin. It’s almost to the point where I’m afraid to sleep in it for fear that it will tear if I make a sudden movement.

Other choice nighties include a pair of my sister’s old shorts paired with my “I love Dinosaurs” t-shirt (L.A. said she had the same shorts in fifth grade,) my NSYNC concert tee with a pair of thin paint-covered cut- off pants (my mother has thrown these away at least 7 times but I refuse to give them up,) and an old black ankle length gown that must have been one of my mother’s maternity gowns- because it is a size XXL.

I have taken to showering before I go to sleep so that I don’t have to hassle with blow drying my hair. For this reason, I usually wake up looking like something that has recently been electrocuted.

I really try to be consistent about washing my face and taking off my makeup, but I will admit that I sometimes leave this task for the morning. This sometimes causes me to wake up and literally scare myself.

I have to admit though, that every once in a while… probably about once a month, I let those damn movie stereotypes get the best of me. I feel a little stir in my stomach and I want to feel like Claudette Colbert in “It Happened one Night,” or Audrey Hepburn in every movie she ever made. Even though I’m single and don’t have anyone I’m trying to impress, I sometimes want to pull out the silk nighty that is stuffed at the bottom of my underwear drawer. I blow dry my hair and will even go to the trouble of straightening it, while looking at myself in the mirror and singing Bye Bye Birdie’s “How lovely to Be a Woman.” I prance to my perfectly made bed and fluff  up the pillow before I put my night shades over my pristine face.

But only every once in a while.

Last year for Halloween, I went as Regan MacNeil from the Exorcist.

Which is pretty much what I look like most days upon waking up.