Catherine Burford

It's that time of the year, my friends. This is that one day of the year where we ramble on about what we're thankful for and never post about it again for another year. Facebook and Instagram are bloated with pictures and statuses of the people and things that we're thankful for, and then we spend the next year building up a collage to post for the next Thanksgiving. Most folks I know would post pictures about their families or careers. Don't get wrong, I AM grateful for the things in my life, but I don't often feel the need to make a ginormous post about it. Today, I am making an exception, but I'm not going to boast about the usual things that I've been grateful for my whole life. Instead, I wish to project a spotlight on a particular group of people that have shaped my life in the past year.

Dear Sia, I first started listening to your music when I was fifteen. I had to do a jazz routine to "Clap Your Hands", and I immediately fell in love with your sound. When "Titanium" was released, I was in a state of depression and the lyrics gave me the strength I needed to keep moving forward. "Breathe Me" was one of the songs that I would listen to right before I fell asleep, and it made me feel like I was falling slowly and gracefully. I've lost count of how many times I've seen the music video for "Chandelier", and it made me feel proud of my weirdness. "The Greatest" was released the year I came out of the autism closet, and it had the biggest impact on me. Not only did I use the song for a one-woman show about autism the following year, but I also once ranked it at Number One on my list of Autism Anthems. Heck, "I'm free to be the greatest" was in my Instagram bio for four years. I loved it so much and I didn't see the point in changing it until now.

When Wes Craven released Scream back in 1996, he truly changed the horror genre. After over a decade of slasher movies being overdone and beaten like a dead horse (pun intended), this classic provided a fresh take by providing humor, wit, and self-awareness. While it certainly wasn't the first horror comedy to break the fourth wall, it was effective enough to create a slasher renaissance. The next five years saw a whole slew of Scream copycats that included I Know What You Did Last Summer, Urban Legends, and Valentine. Even though that hype train has since left the station, Craven's beloved love letter to the horror genre continues to influence some of today's horror movies. Last night, I saw what could possibly be Generation Z's version of Scream. I am, of course, talking about Freaky.

WARNING! MILD SPOILERS AHEAD! I'm autistic and I absolutely love horror movies. Ever since my dad made the mistake of showing me Frankenstein at the age of eight, I've been obsessed with the genre. I don't have a favorite sub-genre, so I'm down for anything. Earlier this week, I showed my autistic friend (let's just call him Bud) a trailer for a horror movie called Come Play, and he asked if I was willing to drive forty minutes to his hometown to watch it. The last movie I saw in theatres was Birds of Prey back in February, so it was worth the forty minute drive just to sit in front of the big screen again.

"Please pick up your phone." "I’m sorry. Grant just walked in." "Why didn’t you break up with him last night like you said you would?"