Halloween is next month, which I find so exciting my little heart quivers. Halloween means October. And October means fall. And fall means leaves. And pumpkins. And cold air! And the smell of burning wood! And! And!


I may or may not be slightly neurotic overly enthusiastic this time of year. And I'm sort of a dweeb. I want jack-o-lanterns on my doorstep, should I have a doorstep. I want haunted houses and corn mazes. And I want to sit outside in the crisp air with a sweatshirt on and watch the leaves blow.

Oh, God. I'm making even myself gag. All this positivity and cheer! I love life! Hooray!


OK, anyway. I always think that come June, I'm in heaven. It's summer, the sun is shining, the pools are open. But then the mosquitoes come out and the heat rises and I can't breathe because, do you see the air? It's like Jell-o. We chew it.

Fall is such an anti-summer, and I love it. Out come the jeans again, and the sweatshirts. We no longer eat the humidity, and instead feel crisp and dry. And I can run with the crunch of leaves beneath my feet.

And there I go again with the cheese.

Point is, it's almost fall. And that is magical. And Halloween's my favorite. And I hereby solemnly swear to avoid Halloween revelry with all of my soul so I don't end up squatting in an alley with flex cuffs on.  Amen.