I am not a fan, at all - not even a little tiny bit - of blood and gore movies. I don't like them. As a general rule I won't watch them but, with that said, I have to confess that I'm eerily fascinated by the remake of War of the Worlds with Tom Cruise.
The special effects are truly astonishing and talk about blood and gore! Jeez-louise. The fine mist... Yeah.
But every time it comes on the television and we don't have anything better to watch, my husband turns it on. Every time I cannot take my eyes away from certain scenes. The one in the basement with the crazy man in particular. It's gripping and terrifying and even though it lasts what seems like forever on the one hand (by the clock) it is so frightening, the tension is so high, that it seems to pass in a minute.
I thought the Exorcist was lame. This is not.
(If you're reading this over your Rice Krispies or bangers and mash, sorry - it's about to get distasteful) I thought that Alien, once the penile projectile burst through the guy's chest (seriously - it looked like a dick with teeth), the movie was laughable.
I was going to upload a picture of it, but then I thought that you might, indeed, be eating and I don't want to put you off. More, I don't want to be responsible for projectile anything hitting your computer. That would be bad and I would feel awful about it, so best not.
The one movie that really got me the most was The Town That Dreaded Sundown. I watched it when I was still living at home when I was nineteen or so and I still remember it. That one scared the crap out of me to the point where I, literally, had nightmares for three nights running - and I turned it off at the scene with the trombone. It's almost (and yes, this is the crazy lady talking again) as if that was me, as if I lived that and that's why it affected me so tremendously.
For creepy and tense I like Silence of the Lambs. An excellent movie with remarkably little blood given that Hannibal the Cannibal likes to chew on people. Like the nurse whose face he ate.
What got me going on this today is that last night, while we waited for the SF Giants pre-game show, we watched War of the Worlds. As always since the first time I glimpsed it, I was fascinated by the basement scene. The nut job, the little girl, Tom being the Hero (with the capital 'H'), the creatures, wondering (even though I know not yet) if. Will the creatures find them? Can Tom and the others hide in the dark room with the filtered light from the spaceships glimmering through the windows.
In the entire movie, that one scene is the very best.
Then, the movie ended (thank goodness) and we watched the Giants baseball game. It was a really good game. The Philadelphia Phillies (the Girl-horses) took a one to nothing lead. The Giants came back and tied it. Vogey did what Vogey does so often - he choked. Gave up four runs before he was relieved.
He was heartsick. You could see it in his reaction. God bless the guy - he tries and he tries so damned hard, but he just doesn't have 'it' anymore. Not since he had his hand broken in 2013. I don't know what Bochy is going to do with him. He's been given all the chances, but he just can't do it.
Anyway, we were down four to one and didn't think the Giants would come back, but they did. They scored four runs so it was five to four. Then they added another three - eight to four. The game ended eight to five after the Girlhorses scored another run in the top of the ninth with two out. A great night.
After the game my hubby wanted to watch Svengoolie. It's camp, pure and simple. The silliest of the silly 'horror' movies - whatever is cheap or free - and it's on every Saturday night at 10:00. Last night it was 'The Invisible Man' - which is actually quite a good movie. Last week it was 'The Creature That Walks Among Us', the third in the 'Creature from the Black Lagoon' nonsense, and that's typical of the quality.
Eventually (10:30) I came up to bed.
Now I am a lady of a certain age and I want to throttle the moron who tittered 'horses sweat, men perspire and women glow'. God dammit! I am a woman, of a certain age, at a certain stage of my life and I sure as shootin' do not glow. I sweat. I sweat buckets. And I hate it and there is not a bloody thing I can do about it because I am not going to start popping pills that might work on this but will probably screw something else up. As a result of my own recalcitrance, I suffer and grind my teeth.
When I go to bed, or when I get stressed or when I get angry, embarrassed, upset, just about anything, it's like my personal sauna kicks to high. The water hits the already red hot stones and WHAM sweat.
Caffeine is a trigger, but I'm not going to stop drinking coffee. Wine is a trigger, but I don't drink wine all that frequently (rarely), and I'm not going to stop that. Spicy foods, another trigger, another 'hands off' item. Make my choices and live with them, whining as I go.
I've been lucky, really. I am not in my forties or early fifties. I dodged this particular bullet for years after when some women hit this Stage of Life, so I'm fortunate. On the other hand, waking up in a pool of chill fluid in the middle of the night at any time of life sucks. Big time.
When I was little it was different fluid, but it sucked then. Now it's sweat and it sucks now. It simply sucks.
"They" those guys in the basement (I wish I could find that cartoon panel...) say that this Stage of Life lasts two to three years and then either stops or at least diminishes. God I hope it's only that. I started this Stage of Life two years ago so you'd think I'm almost done with it.
I hope so, I really do.
So guys - count your blessings. You don't spend thirty-five or forty or more years dealing with cycles and you don't end up spending however long this situation is going to last dealing with sweating like a horse on a hot day in a Florida swamp.
And, on that happy visual note - have a lovely day! :)
Best~
Philippa
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