Shrill Escapade

 

Fine.. its Friday the 13^th and here I lie on my bed, writing this blog. My old and cracking bones can’t seem to find the right amount of energy to dress and paint the town red (Sheesh.. even the colour sounds corny at this moment). I can’t seem to swallow the thought of partying out tonight with the other scary people (They are actually quite scary in real life.)

I should be doing something productive, like reading an intelligent book (which I would conveniently forget even before I say the word “intelligent), write my monologue on how great my life has been till date (again, “intelligent” comes to mind), or I could start on the jig saw puzzle I see staring at me through its crisp box. But, as lethargy sets in, I am reminded of the years past when even the thought of Friday night would get me kicking and screaming “Party”!

The telly went on when I reached home this evening. With nothing interesting to watch, I switched over to National Geographic to watch an amazing sight and tale of Kevin Richardson, the Lone Ranger. He was playing with Lions and Hyenas like a little girl playing with her newly-gifted soft toys. I had seen an email forward of him a couple of times, but to watch it on the reel was mind numbing. He is indeed re-defining nature and its various laws.

Hence, I start questioning the simple facts of Friday the 13^th. There are enough blood and gore written about it, not to forget the zillion movies acted during this one-over-hyped night. The mere thought of horror fills my imagination with the blood-curdling screams, grotesque faces and mutilated bodies. Stereotype images are already filtered in my minds.. (as if the blood and gore didn’t do the trick, already!)

Whatever said and written (or typed), I am still the girl that loves her thrills. I may watch the movies and serials behind finger-covering -but-still-peeping eyes, yet with a tingling-and-titillating-filled heart. I may not watch it the first time around, but give me enough storyline and plot and I shall scout the papers for the re-run timings. Okay! I admit I won’t watch it on the big screen, but the small screen would do just fine for this wannabe, ambitious thrill-seeker.

Well, what am I waiting for.. going to switch on my telly, preparing my throat and voice for the shrieking and my nails to be bitten off..

Scream away, I shout menacingly!!