I mean, I guess you could say that I did, in fact, ask to be exactly where I was the other day — that dreadful, unforgettable day.
If we’re being fair, I did pay for the movie ticket. I did willingly walk into the theater. I didn’t kick and scream like a child on the way to the dentist when I went to the 7:20 showing. And, alas, I did sit my own caboose down into the moderately comfortable theater seats by my own free will.
But, even if I had known, nothing could have prepared me for my unholy fate. On Saturday evening, Sept. 14, 2013, I died. Of boredom.
Don’t worry, though. I made it through. But it wasn’t easy.
After seeing “Insidious: Chapter 2,” an unintentionally hilarious movie coated with cliché one-liners and constant predictability, I congratulated myself for making it out alive. I realized that, during the whole film, my experiences paralleled those of the characters. While they were desperately searching for a way to escape the demons still haunting them from the first chapter, I was looking for creative, innovative ways to flee the daunting monster that was my own crippling boredom.
I’ll give it to you straight. The movie was not good. Of course, being a character in the movie wasn’t good, either. And yes, even though I did put myself into this position, you are bound to find yourself in unsavory situations like these whether you like it or not.
Unless you’re some sort of weird masochist, survival tactics will be necessary to your well-being. So, because I’m so nice and great, I’ll oblige you:
Step 1: Acceptance
Unlike the stages of grief, acceptance is the very first step toward survival. It is what it is. Josh and Renai Lambert (Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne) had to accept that their son was being taken over by a hungry succubus. I had to accept the fact that I was stuck in a movie theater for 100 minutes without my iPod or a pillow.
In this instance, there’s no fighting it. They dealt with the fact that their new demon son was much more interested in eating their faces at the dinner table rather than their prized family recipe, just as I dealt with my sudden desire for mercy.
Step 2: Anger
Now, just because you’ve accepted your fate doesn’t mean you have to deal with it like a mature adult. That’s dumb. Scream, shout and fight like a baby being force-fed pureed green beans.
If you’re fighting the demon that recently took over your husband’s body, use a weapon, like a hammer, sword, harpoon, baseball bat — whatever. This isn’t a game. Beat him (her) senseless!
But if you’re fighting your own state of mind rather than a physical presence, it is a game. Use your words and make it fun. Scream at random parts of the movie, and twerk on your seat every five minutes, Miley Cyrus-style. It’s not rude if you’re just being Miley.
Step 3: Recovery
How does one get over huge garbage dump-like situations like the ones the “Insidious” cast and I shared together? How will you live on never knowing for certain whether your husband is the man you married or an evil drag queen murderer? How will I get over the fact that I wasted two hours I could have spent not studying or succeeding?
Somehow, you’re going to have to get over it, and there are many options. My list of (legal) recommendations includes: ice cream, cats, impromptu dance parties, bubbles, crying, Netflix marathons and listening to “Stronger” by Britney Spears.
It isn’t foolproof, but my step-by-step instructions on survival ought to help you make it through the worst of the worst. I don’t know if James Wan is planning on directing “Insidious: Chapter 3”, and I have no way of knowing if the movies I go to in the future will be as insufferable as this one.
I do know, however, that at least I’ll have a fighting chance.