I no longer have a schedule. I can no longer wake up in the morning and blindly follow that same routine, shuffling my feet and stifling yawns throughout my boring classes. I have no boring classes to attend, and I have no where to go. Not yet, at least. So until then, I am right here.
Now forgive me, this blog is a little on the depressing side. To be fair, you must be aware with the fact that my partner in crime, the same one from earlier blogs, has left me for another country. I am not quite sure what New Zealand has that I don't have, besides the sexy accents, but apparently it seems attractive enough for Kyla to up and leave. Huh.
Luckily, wallowing in self-pity has been cut short, as my old friend, Abigail, has come to visit me for the entire month of July. Cue loud whoops in celebration. Seeing as the larger chunk of my family has fled the country for the summer, I have become rather socially isolated, as the children I am left at home to care for either don't like me enough to talk to me, or cannot form coherent words besides 'mamma', 'puppy', and 'froom'. Abby has come to save my voice from lack of use, and I find it is like old times, when she lived around the corner from me, and we found joy in mocking each other. I came to a splendid realization yesterday, when I realized the house was completely spotless: if I kept feeding her coffee, she will keep doing stuff. I believe she drank close to 7 cups of coffee, and the house hasn't been in this great of shape since, well, never. It's amazing. But apparently this is to be expected from her. She informed me she was raised to be the perfect housewife. I'm scared if my mom found out, I might be out of a job....
I have lived my 18 years without watching any horror movies. I am not going to try and convince you that I avoid these movies because I prefer movies with substance, or a storyline that applies to my life. I am not one of those folks who need to have a point to everything. Let's be serious, I write this blog. No, this is not the case. The truth is, I am just a giant chicken. I was scared of Aladdin until I was 13 years old. I don't watch them because I don't get a thrill out of being scared to the point of tears. Go figure.
HOWEVER. This all changed two nights ago. I watched both my first, AND my second horror movie. Why? I don't know. I really don't. I walked willingly into that room, knowing full well what I was about to do. Which movies did I watch, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. Boogeyman 3, and The Haunting of Molly Hartely. Now, the latter was a decent movie. But let's be honest, what's the point in writing about a movie that was good quality? Now, Boogeyman 3 was a completely different story. After it was finished, I hopefully looked over to a fellow movie-watcher, and asked "Are all horror movies like that?" She chuckled to herself, and informed me of what I was afraid of: "No, no, no. That was probably one of the worst horror movies ever. I wanted to turn it off 7 minutes in." Shoot.
Of course all the commercials were for all the upcoming horror films coming out. With the titles of these movies, plus the observations I made in the actual movie store, I have come to one conclusion: They need to make up some new ones. They just seem to make sequel after sequel of the same story. Even so, I find myself a little bit excited for this movie:
It looks gripping. Much better than the other 17. Now, excuse me while I embark on a housefly killing spree. It needs to be done. This is going to be a very long summer.
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