Happy Friday the 13th! What are you afraid of? It’s exactly the same as any other day, just maybe a little more thirteeny. As far as I’m concerned, that’s lucky. I broke a mirror a couple of weeks ago, still within the 7 year period of having broken another. So I have to ignore all superstitious bullshit, because if it’s true, I’m screwed for 14 years and I’m not having that. Happy Friday the 13th! My favourite day.
If it’s scares you’re after, I can recommend Paranormal Activity(which apparently opens in the UK today). I had no real idea what I was going to see, despite the US Twitter frenzy, but I was in New York for the marathon, and it was Hallowe’en, and we decided that we wanted to see a scary movie. We asked the box office girl if PA was as scary as all the hype had suggested. She just opened her eyes wide and nodded silently – one of those slow nods which, if it had happened in a movie, would have logically culminated in a full 360 head-rotation and bile all over the popcorn. This didn’t happen. I hoped the movie lived up more to its potential than she did. Still, she took our money and gave us our tickets, so halfway there.
It turns out it’s kind of a Blair Witch idea, all shaky-cam and “we shot this ourselves”. There are no credits, and the cast are unknowns (and alright, though not particularly brilliant). For a lot of the film, nothing happens. My expectations were low: I don’t tend to like things that are over-hyped and “kind of a Blair Witch” had turned me off to begin with: I hated The Blair Witch Project and it didn’t scare me one bit. It tried way too hard to tell me how scary it was. I don’t like to do what I’m told. PA has the confidence to build reeeeallly slowly, and make you feel like nothing’s happening, even to get a bit bored, before whipping the rug out from under you and using your own mind and childhood fears to literally stand the hairs up on the back of your neck and churn your stomach. I know it churned mine. It churned my fiancé’s. And the guy sitting behind us commentated his churning with exclamations like: “Jesus!” and “That’s some scary shit!” and “What are you crazy! Get out! Get OUT!!” or, my favourite, the simple: “No, no, no, no, NO!”
It rained like crazy that night, which made me worry for the marathon conditions the following day. We got soaked as we walked up Broadway to our hotel, so we took hung our soggy jeans on the shower rail to dry them out overnight. Then, early to bed: I was to be up at 5am to get to the starting line.
At 2am, a loud noise. Not a knock, or a bang, but definitely in the room. It woke us both up, and we sat bolt upright, laughing nervously. An investigation revealed that the weight of the fiancé’s sodden jeans had dragged them off the shower-rail (he’d left his belt in the loops so it sounded odd as it crashed down onto tile). Ha ha ha! “Were you thinking of Paranormal Activity?” “Hah! NO….You?” “Haha! NO……Yes…” “Yeahmetoo…” We had to drug ourselves with Comedy Central to get back to sleep.
You may hate it. Two people walked out when we saw it – the quality’s not great and slick it ain’t. But it scared the pants off us. And off the shower rail.
I still did run the marathon next day. You can sponsor me here, if you’d like. Thank you.
