So I’ve been awake since about 3 a.m., more or less, after seeing “The Conjuring” last night and worrying, in the illogical way that you worry in the middle of the night, that something ghostly might grab my foot if I let my guard down. (Actually, at my house something very well might grab my foot in the middle of the night, but it’s not a ghost — just an overly excitable cat.) “The Conjuring” was very well done — stay tuned for my review later this week — but I don’t usually watch horror movies because of the way the good ones haunt my dreams, to put it mildly. For example, I’ve never made it all of the way through “The Exorcist,” and I have no intention of ever watching “The Shining” again.
Some people love horror movies — like, I’m guessing, most of the freaked-out-but-happy crowd at the screening last night — and some avoid them like the plague. In general, I avoid them, but every now and then I’ll send myself to a non-gory one to see how I do. I shrieked last night during the screening, more than a few times. Yikes. It might be a while before I go to another one. How about you?