Friday Night Frights

This will have to be quick. I have less than 6 hours to complete an application to one of the film studio’s writer programs. Truthfully, I should be writing that instead of writing this, but I wanted to share this funny interlude. Also, I might be addicted to blogging.

This past Friday night, I left my puppy Ruby alone for only the second time in 3 weeks (the first being Kaz’s birthday on November 5). The occasion was a night out with my best friend T, who is also a producer, and has been my producer. In keeping with the theme of this blog, T is hands down the baddest bitch I know.

Around Halloween, T sent me a link to a theater show with the message “bought us tickets for November 16.” I never clicked on the link - if T bought us tickets, I knew it would be good.

Turns out it was an “interactive horror play” called DELUSION, The Blood Rite, produced by Jon Braver and Neil Patrick Harris.

T and I (and others) showed up at a large mansion in Korea Town, where we were greeted by an Elvira-looking hostess who proceeded to tell us the “set up.”

“The year is 1918. You’re all soldiers returning from World War 1. You were drawn back to this mansion because you were all patients here once under the guidance of Dr. Frederick Lowell. Since his sudden death last year, his family is now trapped in the mansion under an evil spell. Only you can free them of the spell, but you will have to risk your lives and limbs to do it.”

Then she asked us for our blood types, followed by: “Who among you is the bravest?”

“T!” I blurted out.

“Bloody hell,” T said.

I should mention that T speaks with a mixed South African/British accent (that gets stronger when she’s in business meetings).

For the next 45 minutes, T led our group past a drunk gravedigger, many severed human limbs, an axe-wielding butcher, growling insane asylum patients, a possessed grandmother in a tub, an evil priest and a horned, furry beast - all of whom which she argued and haggled with, while I held onto her coat sleeve like a 5 year old.

Afterwards, we caught up at a local dive bar over some much needed drinks. Among other things, I told T about this blog. She immediately launched into a tirade about all the reasons why I shouldn’t use my real name.

“What if someone starts stalking you?”

“Oh, come on. Why would anyone want to stalk me?” I snorted.

The Bartendress chimed in, “I think you’re perfectly stalkable.”

“You see!” cried T.

“Well, certainly no one would want to steal my identity. I owe almost $200,000 in student loans!”

“Now you’re just being silly,” T said, smacking my arm.

After more harassment (it’s pointless to argue with T), I finally agreed to change my username on here. Perhaps the haunted mansion had left its mark. In any case, though it was a great night, I was relieved to come home and cuddle with my own little furry beast.

Curious if you blog with your real name or a pseudonym?  And why?

Btw, if you're in LA and want to experience something thrilling and fun, definitely try and see this show: http://www.hauntedplay.com/home-2012

Happy Monday, folks.