don't tell mom, the babysitter's hobnobbing with satanists

Unless you’re Paris Hilton, chances are when you hit your teens your parents put a stop to your weekly allowance and forced you to get a “real job”.

Wait, ARE you Paris Hilton? OMG hi! I totally saw you at the Scream Awards last year and you were, like, skipping down the hall and I thought that was funny. And I’ve totally copped your method for avoiding talking to people- you know, pretending to talk on your cell phone? Except I’m always forgetting my cell phone so I end up, like, talking into a fruit smoothie or my elbow and people look at me all funny. Are you and Nicole Richie still friends? I saw that episode of The Simple Life where you worked at Sonic for a day and it was—

Sorry, got off track for a second there*. The point is, jobs for teenagers tend to suck, don’t they? Retail this, fast food that, mow this, deliver that; no wonder teenagers are so damn sullen all the time. In my opinion, the worst of the worst job is the one that girls are most often saddled with: babysitting. If you’ve got kids, I’m sure they’re lovely. If you can relate to kids and you love babysitting, you’re awesome. Me? I just don’t really get ‘em- nor do I get the appeal of looking after someone’s kids for money. The idea of getting paid something like a dollar an hour to be saddled with the enormous responsibility of, you know, someone’s life is a bit much for me, even if the family should offer up “all the sodas you can drink!”

I say all of this after having successfully completed the Babysitter’s Training Course in 8th grade. Might I add, I even passed with flying colors- I emerged from the course with an arcane knowledge of snack mixes and I correctly circled “Call 911” in response to the question “What should you do if the baby explodes?” Regardless of my stellar performance, my certificate declaring me a competent babysitter didn’t inspire me to seek out work in that particular field as a teen- I chose the “retail hell” route instead. In fact, in my life I’ve babysat exactly one time...as an adult...for a co-worker who was in a real bind. I spent the day with her three ADD-riddled punkass brats and while it was happening, I wanted to kill myself. I came home with the migraine to end all migraines and something like $15 for my troubles. If I still had that stupid babysitting certificate lying around, I surely would have set it afire with only the power of my rage-filled thoughts!

As if that day weren't enough to put me further off of babysitting until the end of time (plus a week), then horror movies certainly would be. Hi, Laurie Strode, anyone? Or "Have you checked the children?" Babysitters, as a rule, do not fare well in the horror realm.

"Oh my God...there are children in the house?!"

Yesterday, Cinematical brought news of House of the Devil, a flick currently in production about a babysitter getting mixed up with a family of devil worshippers. Seriously, they had me at the devil-worshipping mom is played by Mary Woronov.

In my mind, this movie will be a throwback to an era when movies about Satan and Company were abundant and nonsensical. These kids today will deem House of the Devil "slow and boring", whilst I will deem it "atmospheric and awesome". The supernatural '70s will be back, baby- back in a big way! We'll see the DVD release of many weird and creepy thrillers such as The Haunting of Julia. The success of House of the Devil will show studio execs that original properties can rock and the remake train will derail for a little while. A seismic shift will occur in the world of horror moviemaking, and I can't wait!

So say we all.


*You know, I get off-topic and go all tangent-y here at Final Girl all the time. It's kind of what I do, though I'm not necessarily saying it's a good thing. Do you think it's a good thing, or do I ramble on about irrelevant crap so much that you get bored and confused? I'm always scolded gently reminded by editors at other websites for which I occasionally write that I need to stay on-topic more and be more precise. Is my style being hampered by The Man, or is my "style" only a "style" in my head? Has writing only to please myself- on a blog of all places- led to my growing a garden in desperate need of a trim? No, that's not a euphemism, yes, it probably doesn't make sense...and yes, I'd really like to know what you think.