It is 1:42 in the morning and I am sitting on the edge of my bed trying to convince myself to go to bed. I'm not procrastinating or doing something retarded, I am trying not to freak out. I don't watch scary movies. I have a hyper-active imagination and so scary movies are never a good idea. Most regular movies are plenty intense for me. I'm that girl who screams when the character jumps out, even when I know it's coming. So, here's a cute little mathematical equation for you:
Creeper in X-Files movie+Nicole+no roommates+late at night= I-think-I-might-wet-the-bed-for-the-first-time-since-I-was-6 level of "scaredness."
This is one of those times where having more roommates would be nice... extremely nice... because I'm officially creaped out. I have now filled my scary movie quota for the rest of my life, and probably will never watch another X-files again... although... nope... I think I'm good. Actually I have no desire to watch anything but Disney for the rest of my life, and even then, those scenes with Scar, well, we may have to edit those out.
I've always been a bit of a wimp when it comes to movies. I have vivid memories of running out of the room and hiding for the scary parts, while watching Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood. As I got older this fear hasn't really subsided (not of Mr. Rodgers, of scary movies). This fear has been made even cooler by my "sympathy reaction." In a movie (or real life) when I see someone in pain I show my sympathy in the best way I know how. I pass out. I don't just save this for small occasions either. To date I have passed out in Seminary, at school, and on my poor freshman roommate (Sorry Emily... therapy... with time and therapy...) along with a plethora of close calls. When most girls pass out it isn't too much of a problem... you just chuck the petite blond over your shoulder and get her some air... What are you supposed to do with a 6'2'' girl? I'm not really the type to be easily thrown over a shoulder to be taken outside.
On another semi related tangent... this ranks as another time when having family on the other side of the world is convenient. Had I called my mother at this time last year at 1 in the morning, she would have lovingly threatened my life. It's mid afternoon in China, so instead we had a lovely conversation as she tried to talk sense into me.
*... creeper hibernating freaks don't exist... creeper hibernating freaks don't exist... creeper hibernating freaks don't exist...*
Tia, you are never allowed to let me do this again... oh, and sorry I clawed your arm... and probably woke up all your roomies with my shrieking...
I think I shall sleep with the light on... all of them... at once... and perhaps a crow bar in my hand. *crap, I don't own a crow bar... would a curling iron work... I'm so unprepared*
Mental note to self: buy a crow bar... or anything I could use to fight for my life...
Okay... I can do this... I'm going to post my freak-out session for your reading pleasure... continue to play Mendelssohn, and cuddle up with the teddy-bear that ornaments my bed... He'll keep me safe. If not, I've got my phone right by my bed... and it's loaded? *sigh*