My sister Catherine said to me today, "You are so overly dramatic sometimes."
Eh hem. This annoyed me. I'm overly dramatic? I'M overly dramatic? SHE'S the one who's overly dramatic. And if you don't agree with me, just keep reading, because I'm about to convince you.
My Mum went up to Lane Cove today, because she wanted to hire The Exorcist on DVD.
This was weird to me, because my Mum is the kind of woman who can't even sit through Jaws; last time she tried, she ended up cowering on her hands and knees behind the couch. I'm not even kidding. Jaws. I mean, it's not even horror. It's more like action. Slash comedy. Still, something about that big plastic shark must really freak the shit out of her, because she just can't handle it. The Exorcist, on the other hand? Spinning heads, projectile vomit, a demonic omnipresence? Sure, no worries.
Weird. Not that I was complaining. After all, The Exorcist is practically the only decent horror movie I haven't seen, and besides - who doesn't wanna see a 10 year old kid crawling around upside down and puking blood? Nobody I know!
Anyway, back to Catherine. The whole Exorcist tangent relates to the story, I promise. So Mum announces her plan to hire the movie, and invites Catherine and I to watch it with her. Here's how that conversation went:
Mum: I'm gonna watch The Exorcist, anyone want to join me?
Catherine: The Exorcist? Are you serious? Do you want me to move out? You do, don't you? You want me to move out! Oh, my gosh, The Exorcist. I cannot believe you would ask me that.
Jacki: Dude, don't be such a pussy!
Catherine: Jacki you know I hate scary movies!
Jacki: It was made in like 1972! How scary can it be?
Mum: It's not scary at all.
Catherine: Jacki shut up!
And so on. Yeah. Yeah. You see what I mean? She claims she'd rather move out of the house than risk walking into a room where a moderately scary movie is playing. And then SHE calls ME dramatic.
The whole thing turned out to be a moot point anyway, because Blockbuster was all out of of The Exorcist. Mum got The Secret Life of Bees instead.
I'm sorry, but I fail to see how The Secret Life of Bees works as a consolation for The Exorcist. Really. It's like going to the movies, paying to see Saw IV, and walking into Nanny McPhee (which, incidentally, is actually a kick-ass movie, but that's not the point).
Sigh x 2.
I'm surrounded by idiots.