Saturday, May 29, 2010

OH. MY. GOD. WANT.


Please, oh pleeeeeease someone get this for me!!!

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Of Crime Shows and Imaginations

So I really have an obscene amount of things I need to post about, not the least of which is my parents' visit now almost two weeks ago (le sigh), but I wanted to start with this.

I have come to the conclusion that I watch way too many crime shows. This is a fairly new thing for me, since I had never watched an episode of any of the acronym shows (the CSIs, NCIS) or the others: Bones, Criminal Minds, Castle, The Mentalist while in the US. Since moving here, however, it's all I watch, granted, it's the only thing that's on other than reruns of According to Jim or Charmed. So now Miguel and I have several "crime nights" a week.

Now, I fancy myself pretty used to seeing violent acts and stuff on tv, I don't really squirm when seeing a particularly gruesome body (though I usually choose not to eat much during those), nor do I have nightmares. Unfortunately, however, I think my tolerance is wearing off.

I have always been wary of going into a dark (supposedly) empty house or building (i.e. when house sitting, or during a power outage), but now my imagination is getting more vivid. When letting myself into the basement of the cafe, I often turn the lights on and look around for a body. When I get upstairs and open the bathroom or storage room door, I do the same thing, waiting to hear the heavy thud of something grisly falling out.

Now, today, not 20 minutes ago, my crazy imagination reared its ugly head here in my apartment. I had just stepped out of the shower, when I heard a heavy knock on the door. Not being prepared for a visitor, and kinda panicking, I yelled (in English) "Who is it??" No answer. I heard footsteps, and then a far off knock, probably upstairs. I tried to put it out of my mind despite my pounding heart and get on with my post-shower ablutions. No sooner had I turned on my hair dryer, there was another loud KNOCK-KNOCK, and no footsteps. I tiptoed by the door in my bathrobe with no intention of opening the door, all the while cursing my lack of peep-hole and praying that this was not some kind of attacker that could break through the door after realizing that there was no one else in the building. I waited silently for a while, listening, feeling my heart beat faster and harder than normal. After a while I heard the footsteps retreating back down the stairs and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I would live, at least for now, to see another crime show.