I LOVE Halloween!

I am writing today to express my outrage. Well, OK, maybe it isn't outrage I suppose I should save that for something really important. But it is aggravation and mild irritation at what I consider the watering-down of my favorite holiday. Halloween.

Is it not bad enough that the aisles are already full of Christmas stuff by October 1? Is it not bad enough that the Halloween decorations and costumes, already crammed into some forgotten aisle or back corner, are on clearance the week before the holiday? Is it not bad enough that mega-churches have to make Halloween about religion by setting up crazy-ass "Judgement" houses which are essentially supporting the Halloween stereotypes anyway? But with a (to me) disturbing and harmful judgemental overtone that is being drilled into kids' heads and transferring to other areas of their lives? (school bullying, anyone?)

Nope. Apparently all of this is not enough. It is, in my opinion, just a fun holiday. It is a time to dress up, it is a societal ritual. It is about community and neighbors and being spooky and eating candy. Any efforts to make it more than that are, in my opinion, ridiculous. Now, I am all too aware of the origins of the holiday. However, like with most other holidays, it has become about more societal and commercial things anyway, so I just feel we should be celebrating it as such. Or don't celebrate at all. Last I heard you had a choice. For the majority of us there are no sinister overtones, there are no frightening rituals, you aren't challenging or increasing any one's power, or betraying a loyalty by trick or treating. Unless, that is, you believe you are. Unless you give one day out of the year that kind of power. Unless you are of a belief system in which the day is a high holy day. Or a sinister evil day. Otherwise it is just a day. October 31st.

And thus the basis of my post. I woke up this morning thinking Halloween was over. When I looked at my calendar, imagine my surprise to see the date. The 31st. See, here in my town Trick or Treating was last night. October 30th. I heard through friends that it was one day last week up in our old town in Pennsylvania. Some of you reading this may appreciate this, but others may wonder. Why? Well, I can't speak for Pennsylvania, but here it is because the 31st fell on a Sunday. And apparently unless it is Christmas, having a holiday on Sunday is just not OK. Or is it because Halloween is so very evil? And do not give me that "it's a school night" crap, because if it were on a Tuesday we would have been Trick or Treating on a Tuesday. It is over by 7:30 anyway. Don't give me that "church" crap and how it is against their values and should not be held on Sunday. Because many, many churches held events that were called other things, but involved kids dressing up and getting candy. At the church. Or on the town square. Sound familiar? Exactly HOW is that different? How is it less evil or sinister. I must be missing it somehow, what with my pagan views and all.

My memories of childhood Halloween are wonderful and scary and fun. They are all mixed up with birthday memories, and hayrides, and fall festivals. I remember going to school in costumes made by my mom and trick or treating with groups of my friends in big neighborhoods and our parents walking along with us to make sure we said "thank you". I remember the one house where the lady met us at the door with a huge crystal bowl of FULL SIZE Hershey bars and I thought "she must be RICH! Score". I remember coming home and my brother and I dumping our candy out and trading out for what we liked, giving mom all the "old people" stuff that we didn't like. (i.e. anything not sour, chocolate, or anything with coconut or nuts in it) I actually remember the time when you got homemade treats in your bag like cookies, popcorn balls, caramel apples and such. I also remember the year we all started having to get our candy x-rayed and only individually wrapped would be acceptable from then on. Someone had laced candy with razor blades and hurt children. I think it was a Thursday. Even as an adult, I still consider it my favorite holiday. I have had some really fun adult Halloweens, and I love being able to dress up and be someone else for a little while.

Like with everything else, kids have an innocent view of Halloween. It is about candy and getting to ring doorbells, getting to dress like your hero or the bad guy, seeing new people, and candy. And watching a Charlie Brown special. Oh, and did I mention candy? I doubt there is 1 six year old who will tell you stories of devil worship or anything else as the reason they love Halloween.  They don't see all the  bad overtones and hidden meaning that we adults read into it. It is just a fun day for them. Shame on us adults for trying to water that down.

Oh, and Happy Halloween!

Where Does My November Go? NaNoWriMo

This spring I went through a little bit of a jump start, creativity wise. I got energized, excited about writing and actually committing to writing, not just talking about it like I have done for the last so many years. Starting this blog was one of the commitments I made to provide myself with a creative outlet. I committed to spend a minimum of 2 hours each day writing. I began a novel. It now sits, printed, over 80,000 words yet still unfinished, in the corner of my office.

Over the summer, a lot of my attention has been diverted to other things. Diet and exercise, starting a new business, securing freelance design work, and working on a lot of not-for-pay jobs. I have spent time doing things that needed to be done, thinking about things and how to do them and yet not getting them done, or just doing things I enjoy simply to enjoy them and forgetting about everything else. In May, during a particularly ambitious burst, I signed up to participate in National Novel Writing Month, affectionately known as NaNoWriMo or just NaNo, which is held annually in November. I was giddy.

And now it's November. In two days. I have had trouble being stressed and mentally I am just not at my best, or at least not the best I have been this year. Personally it has been both a wonderful and rewarding year and also an incredibly stressful one, for many different reasons. I am having trouble focusing my energy and getting a grip on all the things I have to get done in a day. As I tend to do when I am overwhelmed, I end up spending hours every day drifting aimlessly, hovering on the Internet, participating in Tweet Chats and many other pointless activities that, truthfully, should be at the bottom of my list. (or not on the list at all)

Because of this lack of focus, an enormous to-do list, and hours that I owe to my new business now that it is finally getting a good start, I had made a decision not to do NaNo after all. No one else knew of my commitment. I could quit and who would know anyway? Who would even care? I could write a novel at any time, couldn't I? And besides, I couldn't imagine for the life of me what I would write about. I didn't want to rehash what I already started, and continuing on that seemed like a cheat. I was barren of ideas. The harder I tried to think of something the worse it got.


Enter: some of my online writing buddies over at the 100 Word Challenge. Velvet Verbosity posted about her intention to participate this year (with the most serendipitous timing) right after I posted a comment about committing and then not wanting to do it. I had several comments and messages telling me that, yes, I needed to go on and do it. Yes, I can do it. And yes, I should do it. People (you know who you are) cajoled, encouraged, guilted, and otherwise assured me that the sky wouldn't fall if I didn't complete my 50,000 words by November 30.

So, I am doing NaNo. My writer friends (real and virtual) will realize the commitment required. My non-writer friends should just trust me and be willing to encourage me if at all possible.  Once I committed mentally (and via Twitter) the basic line of my story came flying into my head within a day or so. Which only goes to show the power of thought and putting your desires out into the universe. This is kind of a big deal. It is a huge commitment of time and energy and I don't take it lightly. All I have to do to "win" is finish the 50,000 words. But the joy of reaching that goal will be all the reward I need.

Dreaming Reality

Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity. The 100 Word Challenge is an exercise in which we write exactly 100 words in response to the weekly prompt word. Click the link to read the other entries–good stuff over there! 

This week's prompt was "unbidden". 

The thoughts came to her unbidden. Morning, noon, and night the whys and what ifs echoed through her head like a loudspeaker that she couldn't silence. Even as she slept thoughts turned into dreams. Dreams that felt so real they startled her awake. She would sit for hours on the edge of the bed, sweaty and shaken, trying to figure it out. Was this the reality? Or the dreams? What if she had begged? What if he had stayed? Always the same questions echoed in her head. She couldn't stop them any more than she could stop her own breath.

Strange Days Indeed

I mean really, how many times do you start your day by backing into the BOOKMOBILE? That's right. I said it.

This morning, as I was leaving a business meeting, I backed my car out of a parking space and heard a crash. I knew the Bookmobile was right behind me, but way underestimated how far it stuck out of the space. And I backed right into it. The passenger side back bumper took the majority of the hit and the Bookmobile had a paint scratch and a big hole/split in the bumper. (Oh, for the days of the metal bumpers)

So I trekked over to the library, which is next door to where I was parked. Neither of the people working at the desk wanted anything to do with the situation and one of them called the lady who is in charge. I was so embarrassed and speaking quietly, being in a library and all. So the lady picks up the phone and says, in I swear what was most definitely an OUTDOOR voice, "THIS LADY HIT THE BOOKMOBILE IN THE PARKING LOT. ON ACCIDENT..... THE BOOKMOBILE...SHE HIT THE BOOKMOBILE....IN THE PARKING LOT..." Seriously, Shhhhh.... that's what the phone is for. To keep you from having to shout up to her. After I waved to the twenty or so people sitting at the first floor computers (who were now all looking at me with fire in their eyes) I looked up in the direction the lady was shouting. I could see the director through a glass window in her second floor office, throwing her hands on her head. Her silent mouth exclaiming "oh, no!", her face distraught as if I'd smashed her kitten. I turned the other way to smile wearily at the lady working the desk. "She wants me to get a police report" she said, hesitantly. "Of course". I smiled, sighed, and wondered once again....why me?

How in the world do I get myself into such strange situations? To top it all off, the director came down to the first floor to give me a little ribbing.(I am just going to go ahead and assume she was joking, because she really could have been nasty about it, couldn't she?) "Why didn't anyone ever hit the big, ugly bread truck Bookmobile? Why is is always the cute little one that is all painted up nice?" Then she asked my name and when I told her she said..."Oh, Mitch's wife?" Yep. That's me. Mitch's wife. (Because although I have achieved Internet fame, no one in my hometown seems to remember who I am (sarcastic font, remember?))

To top it all off, the policeman shows up, like, 10 minutes later. In his cruiser. To take the report. Now, for those of you who don't live in my small town, the police station? Is RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET from where this happened. SERIOUSLY. We took longer inside looking up the non-911 number to call to report the accident than it would have taken to walk over there and tell them in person. **Sigh**

The culprit. I think it was entrapment.

So later when I stopped by the newspaper office to drop something off to my best friend Amy, I had to give her the scoop on the happenings. Being as she's a crack reporter and would find out anyway y'all. I mentioned that the policeman said "So, you were just backing up or what?" (**really?***) and I had to bite my tongue not to say "NO, I am waging a war against literacy and thought I would start by crashing my SUV into the Bookmobile! That will teach those uppity shut ins not to read so much." She got a huge laugh out of that and said "I so wish you had said that. It would have been too funny." Yeah, right. I do NOT need to go to jail today, not even library jail.  Oh, and by the way? The Bookmobile? Less than a year old. Yeah. My life? Honestly...

Oh, and PS. Whoever tattled to my mom? About my blog? I will find you out. She is demanding explanation. Do NOT tell her about the Bookmobile. I just can't handle one more "Marsha shouldn't be driving" remark. Yeah. Thanks.

It Was Time

I got a new picture! Ms. Amy (bestfriendsince8thgrade) Ellis took pictures for hubby and me yesterday afternoon, despite the impending rain, and did a wonderful job as always. She was kind enough to indulge me by taking a new photo of me for my blog, seeing as the one I am using was taken with a cell phone and is at least 2 years old. I love it, thanks Amy! Hubby says it will be the photo on my book jacket. (I so wish)

As a former Realtor, I have a thing about keeping photos updated. Too many were the occasions that I met a realtor whose photo I had seen a million times and had NO idea that it was the same person. I actually once asked a friend if that was so-and-so's mother, and it turned out it was her. The violator shall remain nameless, but the photo on her cards, signs, and flyers had to be at least 25 years old.

So, all my Realtor friends, please do not be offended. I love you all. But remember Erma Bombeck's advice of "when you look like your passport photo it's time to go home". And make a new rule. When you DON'T look like your business card photo, it is time for a new photo. Call my friend Amy at Images by Amy Ellis. She'll fix you up! By the way, if you still look like your photo after 20 years, then good for you keep using it. But be sure to get a second opinion on that before you do.

Oh, and check my new Magnolia ring in the shot above. Hubby's birthday gift to me, I just HAD to make sure we got a shot with that in there. I love it. Thanks, honey!



See? Isn't she great? She even makes the likes of us look like models!

The Week in Review

Post-Sangria Art by Me

OK, well, I am glad for once that my week is over. It has been a crazy, confusing, exhausting whirlwind of events. My BPW club celebrated National Business Women's Week in a weeklong series of events for members and local women as well. As the VP of the club and unwitting volunteer to co-chair the week's events, needless to say I was kept busy last week. My friend Brownie (snickerdoodle as hubby calls her) did the lion's share of the work as Chairwoman, but I helped where I could, and received more credit than I deserved. We cooked a Sunday lunch for about 20 people, we organized vendors and donations for Friday's Working Women's Luncheon, she organized a beautiful banquet on Monday and an informative political forum on Thursday. And in between, we acted like complete morons trying to learn how they play bingo (it is different from the last time I played in the late 70's with my grandma!), and had drinks out at a Mexican restaurant.

Birthday came and went. I had an unexpected surprise when we planned to go out for Wednesday night event with bro- and sis-in-law at the "church of our choice", Saint Margarita's holy house of chips and salsa. Hubby and I were exhausted after a very busy weekend and being out Monday and Tuesday nights. I was about to call and cancel on them when I got a text with all the girlfriends included saying to meet up at 6:30 and there were 10 people coming that night. I had not the first clue that plans had been made for everyone to meet up for my birthday drink. The night ended up being a wonderful stress reliever with my besties and a couple of hubbies and we had a lot of laughs, as usual. My lovely friend Rachel arranged for me to be sung to in Spanish. And yes, I had to wear a very large sombrero. Thanks a LOT, Rach.

I wear a lot of hats, but this is NOT
my best look!

Me, Debbie, and Rachel (the perpetrator)

Then I was presented with a GIANT fried dough thingie filled with ice cream and sprinkles. Which I passed over to hubby. It looked great, but I have already gained back 4 pounds of the weight I lost due to birthday nonsense and was trying to avoid any further backsliding.

See, on Tuesday, my actual birthday, I finished off 1/4 of a pecan pie that was leftover from Sunday's luncheon. I don't even know why I ate it other than the fact that I love pecan pie and it was sitting on my kitchen counter. Taunting me. I ate it one forkful at a time, walking back and forth from my office to the kitchen and swearing each one to be the last. I know people who don't have food issues don't get this. I told a fellow BPW member what I had done and she said "Well, that's OK, it was your birthday."
Me: "Yeah, but I shouldn't have eaten it. At all. I am not supposed to have any sugar. For 2 more weeks."
Her: "Wait, you mean a quarter of a piece of pie, right? That isn't that much."
Me: "No, a quarter of the whole pie. Minus the crust." (In my defense, it was honestly not a full sized pie, it was small, but still)
Her: (with an absolutely horrified "who the hell are you" look on her face) "oh."

I was not supposed to be eating any sugar. At all. I know this. For the duration of my 6 weeks post diet maintenance. I should never have even brought the stupid thing home. But it was delicious. Stupid deliciousness. In retrospect, though, not worth the 4 pounds that I now have to worry about. I guess if I can realize that, I am making progress in this complete mind-f*@% that is weight loss and impulse control.

Anyway, to end on a positive note, I was honored at our banquet on Monday night to be one of two recipients to receive a Non-Traditional Student Scholarship which will allow me to continue on my path toward an MFA. It is an honor, and I am so very grateful. So, I guess I don't totally suck.

I am looking forward to all my catch-up work this week. I see in my future a return to water aerobics to work off this 4 pounds and try to get back some balance. If I can't find evening classes, you can look forward to more stories of the annoying "old" women in the classes. They truly are priceless. And annoying. I am going to be better with writing and blogging, trying to get back into a routine. And I have a lot of phone calls to make. My dad, who had surgery 12 days ago, is home and recovering nicely. The tests showed that it was colon cancer, but at 83 we don't know yet that they'll want to put him through the stress of chemo. His doctor was very aggressive at getting everything out when he did the surgery. So we'll see. I am so thankful for all the thoughts and support and questions on his progress.

In an unrelated development, my BFF since 8th grade Amy has invented a new iPhone accessory (also post-sangria) to assist with our damnably slow internet connection here in the boonies. We've dubbed it the iTennae and she swears it actually worked, helping her send an email that "had" to get out. I think it will catch on, patent is pending. Her husband John looks dubious.

Amy, inventor extraordinaire

Anyway, that is all the updating I have for today. Ya'll have a good week!

These Thoughts Inside

(Forgive me for posting my horrible poetry this week. This has been rattling around in my head for a while now. I have committed it to paper in many different versions. It just seemed to fit the prompt and I thought I would give it a try. Writing poetry in exactly 100 words is even more difficult than I realized.)

Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity. The 100 Word Challenge is an exercise in which we write exactly 100 words in response to the weekly prompt word. Click the link to read the other entries–good stuff over there! 

This week's prompt was "within". 

Unsocial, egocentric,

degrading and mad.

In lightning quick flashes

they enter my head.

Worshipful, wanting,

and lasting all day

they stumble around there

then fly far away.

All of my thoughts–

whether petty and small

or delusions of grandeur,

of having it all.

These thoughts live within me,

they'll wane and they'll waiver.

A few I push away,

but others I savor

in the mental equivalent

of self-flagellation.

They're the very embodyment

of bad behavior.

Sugar and spice.

Loving but hateful.

Thoughtful and spiteful

and everything nice.

Feel guilt, feel pride,

superior and snide

Only I know these thoughts inside.