Halloween

I am no longer allowed to watch scary sh*t. My overactive imagination ran away from me last night after watching several of my favorite scary movies (“The Descent,” “The Exorcism of Emily Rose,” and “Paranormal Activity”) before watching all of Season One of “Paranormal State.”


Yes, I am well aware of the fact that the show Paranormal State is a lame docudrama/mockumentary, but I can’t help myself. I love to be scared. I love wondering what is going on, and if there’s something I am not clued into because I lack capacities to tap into it. Hell, I love wondering what my dogs are staring at when they stare into the distance of a blank wall.

Well, last night I might have overdone it.

Because Dog had knee surgery, she is unable to go up and down stairs. The basement in our house does not have stairs so I can take her directly out to the yard so she can relieve herself. I have been sleeping in the basement with her because I hate the idea of her being sad and lonely in the dark and the crate with the cone of shame. So, I slept in the basement. Last night was Halloween. Every single noise I heard became an encroaching malevolent spirit.

I quivered in the dark, awaiting the blankets to get ripped off of me. I heard the baseboards creak to life and imagined the moaning voice of a trapped ghost imprinting itself onto an EVP. When the room cooled (because the heat is electric, natch), I pictured a violent poltergeist swirling in black smog above me. Blonde Dog whimpering in her sleep from the foot of the bed became a warning sign that some spirit was ready to pounce. I heard footsteps above my head. I heard gusts of wind. I heard a cat meowing in the distance. All of this set my teeth on edge. All of it is explainable. (My dad got up to go to the bathroom. The trees outside were dropping leaves in the blustery October night. Oh, and we have a cat in another room.)

All in all, I think I slept a total of twenty minutes. I kept dreading 3am. I couldn’t bring myself to get up and go to the bathroom (all of ten feet away), convinced that something was going to get me. I kept telling myself, "Its OK. Dog and Blonde Dog are both sleeping. They wouldnt let something get you; theyd totally let you know something was there- especially since its bigger than a squirrel." It kept running through my head, but it didnt pacify me- especially since both dogs are really giant chickens, and one of them is injured and PO'ed about being back in the Cone.

So, as much as I love to be scared, I think I overdid it this time. I have put in place a moratorium on scary forms of entertainment. The bags under my eyes are tired.