Horror Movies, Haircuts, & Hot Dogs
Remember when I said that I was going to start recommending horror movies since we're getting closer to Halloween? Remember how I recommended one and then seemingly abandoned that project? Well, you're in luck. I was at Target yesterday and I tried on this hot dog costume and I remembered that I vaguely promised I would recommend some horror movies. So here we are. ''Tis the season!
Also, here is me in said hot dog costume doing that douchey bro pose that I secretly love because I don't know how to properly pose for a photo like a normal human being:
Anyway, my movie recommendation today is Hush. It's got my boy John Gallagher Jr., in it. He's been in such things as American Idiot on Broadway, Spring Awakening on Broadway, Short Term 12, and, if you took my advice and watched 10 Cloverfield Lane, you'd recognize him from that as well. There are other people in this movie, but I don't love them like I love ma boy, Johnny.
This movie's kinda like your typical break-in movie, but the woman whose house is being broken into is deaf. And, of course, this lady decided to live in the middle of a literal forest. Alone. In a house with a bunch of windows. Obviously, things are not adding up in this lady's favor.
What I like about this movie is that it takes that fear of a break-in to a whole other level. If you're associating it to Don't Breathe in your mind, I wouldn't. Hush came out first and was actually inspired by the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode where everyone lost their voices. Also, I remember there being something weird about Don't Breathe. Like a strange twist that didn't sit well with a lot of critics. I'd Google it, but I am very tired.
Why am I tired you ask? I had to get my hair cut yesterday and that is an ORDEAL. (Also, spoilers, but I write these the day before they come out, so technically the yesterday I referred to is presently today as I type this. Did your brain explode? Don't worry about it. Time is a social construct.)
So haircuts are traumatic for me because when I was younger, I never got a haircut I liked. The person would be cutting my hair and it'd get to the point where I'd think they're almost done and I'm like, yeah, this is finally a good haircut. However, the hairdresser NEVER stopped at that point. They'd always keep going until it was too short and silent tears would fall from my eyes.
I always wondered if the hairdressers noticed and just didn't care that a child was silently weeping in their chair. It's tough to come back from that when the haircuts of my youth were that terrible. It's why I always let my hair grow out a little too long because I hate finding new hair cut places. It stresses me out to no end.
However, this place I found was awesome. It was run by a bunch of Armenian people who somehow instantly figured out I'm Greek. They gave me recommendations of Mediterranean places to eat and, when I said I was new to the area, they said if I ever needed anything to let them know. Like what sweet, sweet people. Did the lady that cut my hair flat iron the bangs so I looked a little like a Myspace scene kid? Yes. In my book, that's a million times better than silently crying in a chair.