About last night

Note to self: If you make the ending of your post mushy enough, the Internets will totally not even care that you used some form of the word "poop" five times in that same post.

Aw, Internets, I can't believe how forgiving you are. I mean when I was typing that last post, I had no idea where it was going to go and when I spent the good first half only talking about my digestive issues I really did think, "oh dear lord, they aren't gonna like this." But when I gushed about Mr. McMichael, you turned into a pile of lovestruck goo and forgot all about my previous references--there's a joke in there somewhere about piles of goo, but this is NOT going to be another post about poop! However, I can make it a post extolling the greatness that is Mr. McMichael. Sort of.

Ah, Mr. McMichael: an excellent cartographer, puddle jumper, corn maze solver, and boy howdy can the man scream. He sure is great, except when he leaves me behind to fend for myself against the psycho butcher with a bloody meat cleaver.

I love fall. Love the crisp weather, love the vibrant Pacific Northwest colors, love the cozy sweaters, the warm drinks, and comfort food galore. And I love that it's haunted house season, and I really love that Mr. McMichael is totally game for a good, cheesy, manufactured scare.

Last night he and I trekked outside the city to a local corn farm turned massive corn maze and haunted field.

Note to self: Even though you know the man with the chainsaw is going to chase you out of your haunted experience, and even though you're expecting it and you know it's not scary, it will still always scare the pants right off of you and cause you to trample a group of high school kids to get the hell out of that demon's way.

I will pay good money for people to scare the crap out of me. And sure, I know all the gimmicks, but there's something about getting myself lost in that environment that causes my adrenaline to go into hyper-flight, thus making all the pedestrian things that a logical person would expect (oh, of course someone is hiding behind that wall and is going to jump out at me) to cause me to let go of the hand I'm holding and run straight into a wall, oh and pee a little.

It's not Mr. McMichael's fault that I narrowly escaped peril at the hands of a demented butcher, he was just trying to run us to safety, but somehow I became disconnected from him (which is hard to imagine as we had been clinging to each other the entire time through that fright fest). Somehow he made it through a wall of curtains, and I was just a few inches too far to the right. So he's gone, and I've literally hit the wall and am screaughing (simultaneously screaming and laughing) as a man--who I know is a hired actor making minimum wage for his effort, but is nonetheless FREAKING ME OUT--is bearing down on me. All I could think was, "you can't touch me, you can't touch me, you can't touch me," and may have even blurted that out at him in the event he forgot the number one rule in his employee handbook. I manage to stumble through the curtains and proceed to scale Mr. McMichael's back as we high-tail it out of there. Through my laughter, I manage to let him, and everyone else around us, know that indeed I did just pee a little bit, and oh yeah, that butcher dude is STILL FOLLOWING US!

We got to the final segment and the man with the chainsaw, who we knew was there, popped out and chased us. And yes, we both screamed like little girls, and I think Mr. McMichael even pranced a little bit as we ran as fast as we could. Chainsaw dude was relentless, he kept following us and was chasing us toward the parking lot until I pulled Mr. McMichael to a grinding halt and buried my head in his back, because if I can't see the chainsaw dude, then he certainly can't see me, right? You'll all be happy to know that my tactic worked and we were spared chainsaw massacre, or maybe he had to go back for the little 12-year-old girls (actual little girls that have every right to scream in the pitch and tone Mr. M and I eked out) we passed in one of the early scenes of monster gore and zombie carnage.