My brother-in-law, Billy, had a film, The Suicide Tapes, in the Fantasia Film Festival (the largest genre festival of its kind in North America, I might add) and I went to support him. And to hang out with my sister, Erika, because we like each other and we like to eat a shit-ton of good food when we see each other. Always fun. Always.

Let me back up a minute, though, and make something perfectly clear: I hate being scared. I can't understand the logic in wanting to be scared. I don't do haunted houses or scary books or, worst of all, horror films. I have the scare-factor of a little kid so I just avoid that stuff altogether. I'm 36 years old and I have done a pretty good job at this avoidance.... until now. This "genre" film festival was all scary movies. I mean, everything from psychological thriller to slasher to whatever other kinds there are (I don't know because, again, I avoid them). I figured that I would watch Billy's film (it was my understanding that it was creepy, but not really scary, per se) and that would be it. Well, the first night in Montreal, we attended a "filmmaker dinner" before the screening with the guys who made the movie to which Billy's was attached, Absentia. Billy's film is a short and theirs is a feature. Everyone was excited because the screening was one of the few at the festival that had sold out in advance. The Absentia guys were really nice and as we got to know each other a bit, I blurted out, "Hey, listen. I hate scary movies. I get scared really easily - like, REALLY easily. I was planning to cut out on yours, but now I feel a little guilty about that. I'll try to watch it, but I might need to leave. It's nothing personal. But tell me about the movie. Is it gory? Bloody? Are there ghosts? What?" They couldn't believe I was at a horror film festival and hated horror films. But you know, whatever. Technicalities. They assured me that they wouldn't take it personally if I left halfway through the movie. And if I had nightmares, I had permission to slap the filmmaker (there was a second screening of the movies together the following afternoon, so I'd be sure to see him again). It all sounded reasonable to me, but I was still nervous.

We got to the theatre and the crowd was awesome. Packed! The seven of us attached to the films sat on the steps, along the wall - Erika in front, then Billy, me, and the four Absentia guys. It was terrible. And by that, I mean terrifying. I was so tense. I had to keep my eyes covered for a lot of it, but I couldn't block the sound. Ugh. About halfway through the movie, I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Good thing I'd slipped my heels off, because I jumped up and practically flew over the others behind me as I bolted out of the theatre doors.

Next thing I knew, I was waking up on the cold floor with two security people standing over me, freaking out. Everything was spinning. I hadn't puked, but I'd most assuredly fainted. They told me not to move. They called paramedics. I insisted on sitting up. The paramedics were there quickly and at first they thought I was drunk; then they thought I was on drugs; and then maybe crazy. As time (minutes) went by and I felt better and better, and let them take my blood pressure, etc., they decided that I'd been so stressed out by the movie that I must've been holding my breath, blocking the flow of oxygen to my brain or something like that. Yeah. Great. Because THAT wasn't embarrassing! Once I drank some water and felt fine again, I went back in the theatre. I sat next to Erika and told her what happened. "What?!" She whispered to Billy what had happened, who whispered to the Absentia guys what happened. Erika also mentioned something about me smacking the shit out of those guys. Again, that sounded reasonable. I kept my eyes averted for most of the rest of the movie.

Finally both movies were done and we went out for drinks as a group. The Absentia guys felt bad, but when they realized that I really was fine, they thought it was super cool that I fainted from fright. I guess that's a pretty good compliment. I guess. I don't know. I can't imagine I'll be watching another scary movie for a long, long time. If ever.

The rest of the vacation was pretty great. We had amazing Japanese food for dinner one night at a teeny, teeny, tiny restaurant named Kazu. The next night we had incredible French at L'Express. We walked all over from downtown to the old city and up to Mont Royal. We went back to Kazu for ramen (only served at lunch). We had poutine. We had crepes - twice. We found a place that made the best iced lattes in the entire world. We ate and ate and ate and ate. It was four full days of being tourists and it was glorious. It was also the longest I'd ever been away from my peeps. I missed them. I was ready to come home and cover them with kisses. Which I did.

Oh! I almost forgot! The second night we were there, our hotel phone rang around 3am. I don't remember it, but Erika says I jumped up in bed but didn't answer it. The next morning, our message light was flashing. Someone had left us an obscene message. It's not totally, totally nasty, but it's pretty bizarre - almost clinical. Here it is, if you're interested (but consider yourself warned that you shouldn't play this at work or in the presence of children):