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Dude, lj's, err, excuse me, undeadjournal's banner is freaking awesome. It's stuff like this that makes me love Halloween, even if I'm not a big scary movie buff (I blame my parents for that one, we weren't allowed to watch scary things as kids and by the time I was introduced to such classics as Halloween and Children of the Corn my brain had already glommed onto other things to be scared of). Imma eat your brainzzzzz!!!

Actually, I've always been a fan of Halloween. First it was the candy and costumes and now it's the whole feel of the holiday. It's one of the few holidays where the pagan roots still shine through and highlight the hidden depths of the most mundane things. There's something about the mystery and spirit of the holiday that sets me all a'tizzy.

Not surprisingly, one of my favorite Halloweens was during my sophomore year of college. We closed ourself off in a salt-lined dorm room, lit some candles, and had a tarot card reading. It hit all of the right buttons.

( Cut because I think this is going to get long )

So, there you have it; I believe and don't want to believe all at the same time. And if I ever actually saw anything with my own two eyes I'd probably run screaming like the little girl I am.

You know what? If I had my way Halloween and Thanksgiving would be fused together. The American Thanksgiving is ridiculous. It's supposed to be a harvest festival but we celebrate it at the end of November which is definitely not harvest season. I'd make it more like the Days of the Dead in Mexico with a day or so of rememberance and reflection on those who have gone on, a night of revelry, and a final day of thanksgiving for all we still have and the promise of the coming year. I'd schedule it right at the end of October and possibly incorporate the New Year/Old Year element of Celtic Samhain as well. But maybe not since I like the way the midwinter week of festivities from Christmas to New Year's comes together.

And there you have it, my .05 on all sorts of things. Having opinions is fun.

(no subject)

This afternoon, I decided to make some gingerbread on a whim. It came out fairly well, if I do say so myself. However, this post is not about my amazing baking skills.

It is, instead, about how I dumped gingerbread dough straight down my shirt. While the cakes were baking (I used mini-pans to make individual servings easier) I decided to lick out the bowl. I switched on the TV and was just about to put a heaping spoonful in my mouth when my phone rang; by the ringtone I knew it was my mother. In that second the dough missed my mouth and slid right down my chest and lodged itself in the area that was left uncovered by the v-neck of the dress I was wearing.

So there I was, on the phone with my mother with dough down my cleavage. She yammered on and on while I tried not to keep the dough from sliding any farther than it already had. It's a shame I was alone, I bet the look on my face was priceless.

It was easily cleaned up, once my mom got off the phone. But, yes, today will forever go down in the annals of baking as the day I dumped dough in a very interesting place.

There you go, aren't you all so happy that I was in a sharing mood? I'm sure none of you could've survived another day without knowing all about my doughy misadventures. That's okay, I'm a giver. ;-)