Over the weekend, PCG took me to see “Paranormal Activity”.

I don’t know if you’ve heard about this movie.

I don’t know if you’ve seen it.

If you haven’t, might I suggest you never ever entertain the idea of viewing this movie ever in your life?

You’re welcome.

Let me preface this by saying that

1. I do not watch scary movies. There was that one summer Tom and I watched “The Shining” over and over on repeat but I think it was because after about six times, it stopped being scary and started being HILARIOUS. Jack Nicholson in the maze? Dude, that is comedy.

OH! I also went on a date in high school to see the Blair Witch Project. (They asked for our ID’s because it was rated R and I was only sixteen and I had to ask my mom to buy my tickets before she drove off NO I AM NOT KIDDING,YES I AM STILL EMBARRASSED ABOUT IT.)

Um. That’s it. I think.

I don’t watch these types of movies. I’m not a fan of them. I scare easily. My imagination goes nutso. Uh. Yes. So naturally, when PCG was all EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT THIS SCARY MOVIE! LET’S GO! I was all, DEF! I LUV SKERY MOVIEZ!!1!!1!!

…

Here’s the part where I punch myself in the face.

Also, we’re still prefacing so…

2. I’ve had a hard couple weeks. Work dumped this project on me, I’m there late into the evening, corporate America whine whine. By the time Friday rolled around AKA Movie Night, I was exhausted. I’m talking…delirious. To make it worse, I told PCG I would meet him after Bikram Yoga class. Therefore, I was not only exhausted, but exhausteder, starvvvvvvvving, delusional and stretched out of my mind.

But PCG was looking forward to movie night! And hey! ME TOO! I attempted to rally! I had some dinner! I told myself it was JUST A MOVIE and a movie that didn’t involve zombies ripping people’s flesh off so come on! You’re a big girl! You can handle it!

Guess what?

I couldn’t.

And I was not alone.

I will now give you a few examples of other people in the Queens movie theater who couldn’t handle it, for various reasons:

1. The old guy behind me who was snoring throughout the entire thing

b.) The foreigner next to me who kept mumbling in his native language and then intermittently tossed out a few “IS DIS FUCKEENG REAL?”

#h.) The woman’s baby behind me.

Yes. That’s correct. A woman brought her baby. I’d say about a year old? It was cooing and babbling for a good half hour until one quintessential Queens man turned around and said, ARE YOU F*CKING KIDDING ME WITH THAT BABY?

The baby was promptly escorted out by a mother who looked deeply offended. How dare someone curse at her and her baby. The baby she brought to a horror film in a movie theater.

But hey! Back to me. This is my blog after all.

YOU GUYS?

I was terrified. I was shaking, I was hiding my eyes, I was cringing, I was begging PCG to take me home. In fact, I almost pulled an Owen and screamed I AM SICK OF THIS right there, in public, in the dark.

That is how much this movie FLIPPED ME OUT.

Afterwards, I couldn’t get the images out of my mind. I drove around Astoria for awhile, I turned all the lights on when we got home, I tried everything. I could not erase it. And to make it worse, PCG wanted to talk about it, thinking it would help lighten the mood.

“Hey, remember that part…”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!”

By that point, I was so tired, so frightened, so sleepy that after a few instances of REMEMBER WHEN/SHUT UP SHUT UP, when PCG tried to make me laugh and tickle me a little bit?

I cried.

Flat out sobbed.

I yelled at him that he was scaring me and that he was a horrible human being while he just stood there mouth hanging open like, “Who is this person and why am I dating her and can I trick her into taking some Paxil?”

I got in bed and slept for thirteen straight hours.

When I woke up, everything was back to normal. No demons were possessing me or my apartment or anyone named Katie.

To be honest, I still can’t seem to shake certain moments of that film. But now that I’m well-rested and have my head on straight, I can bring them up in conversation, ad nauseum, without crying. And so, PCG is constantly subjected to me wanting to reminisce about this movie as if it’s some lovely experience we shared, as if I had the best time of my life, as if I didn’t start sobbing after I saw it because he tried to tickle me.

“PCG?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember when the door…”

“Laura?”

“Yeah?”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!”