Showing posts with label halloween. Show all posts
Showing posts with label halloween. Show all posts
Friday, October 30, 2009
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Cute Monster Witch
What Your Cute Monster Says About You |
 You are a vibrant, vivacious person. When you live, you live as wildly and loudly as possible. You are very bold. You are willing to stand up and be a leader. Your inner demon is intensity. You have a tendency to let your passions take over. People think you're cute because you're fiery. When you get worked up, it's charming. |
You Are 45% Witch |
 It's unlikely that you're a witch. At least, no one thinks you are. You may still be interested in witchcraft, but you're by no means a stereotypical witch. While you don't seem all that witchy, people may think you're a bit weird. You're definitely a little offbeat. No one really knows what to make of you sometimes. |
What Your Jack-o-Lantern Says |
 You tend to be a bit of a grouchy person. The scrooge of Halloween. And while you may complain about it, you would miss Halloween if it didn't come around. This Halloween you should embrace your inner grump - be a warlock or a witch. The candy you should give out: sour patch kids |
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
Halloween Blogthings
What Your Halloween Habits Say About You |
 A bit of an introvert, you like the special occasions just as much as everyone else. You just have your own unique way of celebrating Halloween. You definitely think of yourself as someone who has a dark side. And part of having that dark side means not showing it. Your inner child is stubborn and a bit bossy. You fear those closest to you finding out who you really are. You dread people discovering your secrets. You're prone to be quite emotional and over dramatic. Deep down, you enjoy being scared out of your mind... even if you don't admit it. You are a traditionalist with most aspects of your life. You like your Halloween costume to be basic, well made, and conventional enough to wear another year. |
You Are a Ghost |
 Mysterious, independent, and often unseen - you always do things your own way. You are introverted, shy, and even a little secretive. People are dying to know you better, but you're a difficult person to know. A lot of your contributions to the world are left invisible and unfelt. Your greatest power: Blending in really well Your greatest weakness: Being too passive You play well with: Witches |
You Are |
 An Evil Pumpkin Face You would make a good pumpkin bomb. |
You Are Not Scary |
 Everyone loves you. Isn't that sweet? |
Just Empty Space
I think of space when I think of that day. Kind of odd I guess. But space as an element, a thing you can almost reach out and touch, something that you could hear if you listen during a quiet time.
An empty space is mysterious and unknown. That's likely why we fear it. Around the corner, at the other side of a dark room, the backseat of the car when you know no one is sitting there. Our hitchhiker was like that. Something in the space that you could almost feel but not actually see, smell or touch. Just something sensed enough to give a creepy feeling and start us looking into dark corners expecting to see her there.
Her, was the girl who died, of course. Alone, in the rainstorm, under a bridge, she drowned in her over turned car. I thought it was a sad way to die. Hoping to be found and yet time passing with no help. Could she see the clock on her dashboard, watch the seconds and minutes pass as she died. The water rising but not filling the car quite enough to ease the pressure so she could force open a door and escape. Or was she already gone when she hit the water? Did she never even know she was dying until she was dead?
Did she now wait on the bridge, looking at the world of the living and want to come back, to join us again or just finally get home.
My husband parked the car there, at her bridge. He'd noticed the floral offerings at the side of the road and wanted to take a look. We often made road trips to cemeteries, abandoned farms and houses. He liked to put them in a more gruesome and haunted light. He's into horror. I'm not a horror fan, not someone who'd stay up after midnight to watch movies about murderers, violence and gore.
He remembered hearing about the accident and her death on the news. We talked about it. I was sad for her. There was nothing left of the car of course, it had all been towed away, put away and dealt with. He wanted to take a better look, maybe find some car part left over or something of hers which had been overlooked. So he picked his way down the weeds and stepped around the muddy shore searching for a souvenir.
I took some photos of her flowers. They were looking pretty weathered and shabby but I was glad her family and friends had given her a memorial, a tribute. Then we got back in the car, thinking of how welcome a hot chocolate would be. The girl was in my mind, as any tragic figure lingers awhile before becoming just a memory and passing thought.
Did he look over his shoulder first or did I? I'm not sure. More likely my husband did, he was driving and had a reason to check the rear view mirror now and then. He didn't say anything. Just drove on down those wet dirt country roads, splashing through puddles but not laughing about the spray of water as he usually would have. I decided he was feeling a bit somber, as I was myself. When I noticed he was a bit jumpy I laughed and asked if we were being followed, maybe he wanted to play at being secret agents and spies as he sometimes liked to do on drives along quiet roads.
He didn't answer right away. Then he asked if I could see, or did I feel, anyone in the car, in the backseat. I gave a quick look, humouring him. I was all set to say "Of course not", but I did catch something out of the corner of my eye. Just something in that space. I turned around in my seat, pushing the seat belt off my neck, for a better look. Nothing. Of course nothing. We hadn't brought anyone else along, not a dog, not so much as a goldfish.
"No", I said. I didn't laugh or make a joke about it though.
We drove farther, closer to the road into town. Each of us would sneak backward looks. I could see him look in the rear view mirror several times on a road where we were the only traffic.
He pulled the mirror down to focus on the back seat. I scrunched down to watch the back from the passenger side mirror. It began to feel really creepy in that car. Something was in that space of nothingness, something we couldn't see.
Just behind my head I could feel eyes, keeping silent, soundless as the dead, ironically. We hardly dared to breathe ourselves. I wished my husband could find the bravery I lacked and flip on the radio. Surely something as normal and ordinary as the radio could chase away the skin crawling creepiness of whatever lurked in the backseat.
She must have been so cold, dying in that deeply chilled water. How desperate she must be now to find some warmth, something human, to not be alone and quite so dead. If you believe in ghosts surely you could see how she might want to sit in our warm backseat with the heater making the car so toasty warm. Only now I was getting chilled just thinking about heat sucking ghosts sitting just out of sight, right behind me.
Another quick flick of my eyes to the backseat. My imagination pictured her sitting there. Her eyes dark and haunted, bruised looking. Her body so cold, right through, unable to feel warmth. Dripping water. I imagined hearing the little plop, plop, plop of water as it dripped from her cold, dead self. Maybe she would shiver, not knowing that a ghost isn't alive and wouldn't need to shiver.
It was a long trip back to town, we didn't speak again. How can you speak about what isn't there.
At the coffee shop, back in the living world where the spaces are all filled with artificial light, noise from the living and the smell of bacon and eggs, it was very easy to shake off the creepy feeling and put it down to just imagination. But, the feeling came with us when we got back in the car. I feel it still.
It's been days since we took that road trip. I'm often alone in our apartment after my husband takes the car to work. Those spaces of time which I used to do laundry, make dinner, wash dishes and vacuum are no longer just the passing of time. My space is captured by something I only feel, see out of the corner of my eye. It's her I'm sure. I think she is sad, missing the people she knew and the things she liked to do.
Since that day at the bridge I've stopped looking in the backseat when I'm in the car. I avoid mirrors especially, they give me a very creepy feeling. When I brush my teeth each morning I look down, avoiding my own eyes and anything that might be in that space behind me. I never take that space for granted any more.
You see, she isn't the only one there now. I think they followed her to our home. Someday they'll fill all that space. Taking it all. I hardly dare to take a real breath any more. I never look into corners and I always have the lights on. Someday they will suck out all the space around me. I don't know what will happen then, when the dead fill the space of the living. My husband thinks I'm crazy so I just don't talk to him about it any more. But I can see he gets nervous too, sometimes after dark when the apartment is quiet and he gets that creepy sense of something else, something that hitchhiked back into the living world with us and won't now let us go.
--
My Halloween story. By me.
Get 31 Days of Halloween chills and thrills on Calpurnius.
An empty space is mysterious and unknown. That's likely why we fear it. Around the corner, at the other side of a dark room, the backseat of the car when you know no one is sitting there. Our hitchhiker was like that. Something in the space that you could almost feel but not actually see, smell or touch. Just something sensed enough to give a creepy feeling and start us looking into dark corners expecting to see her there.
Her, was the girl who died, of course. Alone, in the rainstorm, under a bridge, she drowned in her over turned car. I thought it was a sad way to die. Hoping to be found and yet time passing with no help. Could she see the clock on her dashboard, watch the seconds and minutes pass as she died. The water rising but not filling the car quite enough to ease the pressure so she could force open a door and escape. Or was she already gone when she hit the water? Did she never even know she was dying until she was dead?
Did she now wait on the bridge, looking at the world of the living and want to come back, to join us again or just finally get home.
My husband parked the car there, at her bridge. He'd noticed the floral offerings at the side of the road and wanted to take a look. We often made road trips to cemeteries, abandoned farms and houses. He liked to put them in a more gruesome and haunted light. He's into horror. I'm not a horror fan, not someone who'd stay up after midnight to watch movies about murderers, violence and gore.
He remembered hearing about the accident and her death on the news. We talked about it. I was sad for her. There was nothing left of the car of course, it had all been towed away, put away and dealt with. He wanted to take a better look, maybe find some car part left over or something of hers which had been overlooked. So he picked his way down the weeds and stepped around the muddy shore searching for a souvenir.
I took some photos of her flowers. They were looking pretty weathered and shabby but I was glad her family and friends had given her a memorial, a tribute. Then we got back in the car, thinking of how welcome a hot chocolate would be. The girl was in my mind, as any tragic figure lingers awhile before becoming just a memory and passing thought.
Did he look over his shoulder first or did I? I'm not sure. More likely my husband did, he was driving and had a reason to check the rear view mirror now and then. He didn't say anything. Just drove on down those wet dirt country roads, splashing through puddles but not laughing about the spray of water as he usually would have. I decided he was feeling a bit somber, as I was myself. When I noticed he was a bit jumpy I laughed and asked if we were being followed, maybe he wanted to play at being secret agents and spies as he sometimes liked to do on drives along quiet roads.
He didn't answer right away. Then he asked if I could see, or did I feel, anyone in the car, in the backseat. I gave a quick look, humouring him. I was all set to say "Of course not", but I did catch something out of the corner of my eye. Just something in that space. I turned around in my seat, pushing the seat belt off my neck, for a better look. Nothing. Of course nothing. We hadn't brought anyone else along, not a dog, not so much as a goldfish.
"No", I said. I didn't laugh or make a joke about it though.
We drove farther, closer to the road into town. Each of us would sneak backward looks. I could see him look in the rear view mirror several times on a road where we were the only traffic.
He pulled the mirror down to focus on the back seat. I scrunched down to watch the back from the passenger side mirror. It began to feel really creepy in that car. Something was in that space of nothingness, something we couldn't see.
Just behind my head I could feel eyes, keeping silent, soundless as the dead, ironically. We hardly dared to breathe ourselves. I wished my husband could find the bravery I lacked and flip on the radio. Surely something as normal and ordinary as the radio could chase away the skin crawling creepiness of whatever lurked in the backseat.
She must have been so cold, dying in that deeply chilled water. How desperate she must be now to find some warmth, something human, to not be alone and quite so dead. If you believe in ghosts surely you could see how she might want to sit in our warm backseat with the heater making the car so toasty warm. Only now I was getting chilled just thinking about heat sucking ghosts sitting just out of sight, right behind me.
Another quick flick of my eyes to the backseat. My imagination pictured her sitting there. Her eyes dark and haunted, bruised looking. Her body so cold, right through, unable to feel warmth. Dripping water. I imagined hearing the little plop, plop, plop of water as it dripped from her cold, dead self. Maybe she would shiver, not knowing that a ghost isn't alive and wouldn't need to shiver.
It was a long trip back to town, we didn't speak again. How can you speak about what isn't there.
At the coffee shop, back in the living world where the spaces are all filled with artificial light, noise from the living and the smell of bacon and eggs, it was very easy to shake off the creepy feeling and put it down to just imagination. But, the feeling came with us when we got back in the car. I feel it still.
It's been days since we took that road trip. I'm often alone in our apartment after my husband takes the car to work. Those spaces of time which I used to do laundry, make dinner, wash dishes and vacuum are no longer just the passing of time. My space is captured by something I only feel, see out of the corner of my eye. It's her I'm sure. I think she is sad, missing the people she knew and the things she liked to do.
Since that day at the bridge I've stopped looking in the backseat when I'm in the car. I avoid mirrors especially, they give me a very creepy feeling. When I brush my teeth each morning I look down, avoiding my own eyes and anything that might be in that space behind me. I never take that space for granted any more.
You see, she isn't the only one there now. I think they followed her to our home. Someday they'll fill all that space. Taking it all. I hardly dare to take a real breath any more. I never look into corners and I always have the lights on. Someday they will suck out all the space around me. I don't know what will happen then, when the dead fill the space of the living. My husband thinks I'm crazy so I just don't talk to him about it any more. But I can see he gets nervous too, sometimes after dark when the apartment is quiet and he gets that creepy sense of something else, something that hitchhiked back into the living world with us and won't now let us go.
--
My Halloween story. By me.
Get 31 Days of Halloween chills and thrills on Calpurnius.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Halloween Before Christmas
Has anyone else but me realized how co-ordinated Halloween and Christmas are? Think about it. One holiday is all holy and polite and traditional and good will to all man and give the women an overload of work. The other holiday is all about causing trouble, being mischievious, eating candy, knocking on doors to get more candy, dressing up as spooky or slutty things (depending on your age and gender, or whatever... lets not get technical).
It's very good timing that Halloween comes first. People get rid of their evil thoughts and pent up energy so they can settle down and be good little girls and boys for Christmas. Can you imagine someone getting it backwards and acting like it was Halloween at Christmas time? Some goofball dressing up as Zombie, the Snowman, Vampy Claus or Witcherella the Angel. They'd be soaping windows and spraying shaving cream on cars cause no one would be ready for trick or treating. You know... this is starting to sound like something HappyandBlue would do. If you live in his town be warned.
Of course, there is always someone who will try to put Christmas in Halloween. Like those Grinches who tried to get Halloween banned completely. What kind of a sour puss or tight ass do you have to be to want to bann Halloween? No one thinks of it as a devil worshipping festival (except that guy back there in the last row, skulking out before anyone sees him now), sheesh... get over it.
It's very good timing that Halloween comes first. People get rid of their evil thoughts and pent up energy so they can settle down and be good little girls and boys for Christmas. Can you imagine someone getting it backwards and acting like it was Halloween at Christmas time? Some goofball dressing up as Zombie, the Snowman, Vampy Claus or Witcherella the Angel. They'd be soaping windows and spraying shaving cream on cars cause no one would be ready for trick or treating. You know... this is starting to sound like something HappyandBlue would do. If you live in his town be warned.
Of course, there is always someone who will try to put Christmas in Halloween. Like those Grinches who tried to get Halloween banned completely. What kind of a sour puss or tight ass do you have to be to want to bann Halloween? No one thinks of it as a devil worshipping festival (except that guy back there in the last row, skulking out before anyone sees him now), sheesh... get over it.
Tired of Xmas? Revert Back to Halloween!
Yes, I know it's December, even though it looks like Autumn outside. I found Halloween sparkly graphics too so I'm including them in honour of the weather and for the people who are sick of Christmas already. Not that I am.
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Saturday, October 21, 2006
The Raw Stuff of Life
"We cannot tell what may happen to us in the strange medley of life. But we can decide what happens in us - how we can take it, what we do with it - and that is what really counts in the end. How to take the raw stuf of life and make it a thing of worth and beauty - that is the test of living."Joseph Fort Newton.
That exceptionally cool Witches (haunted) dressing table comes from Patrica Paul Miniatures, her Haunted Housewares collection. These would be really fun to have in a dollhouse. Not that I still have one. Not even the excuse of having a daughter to buy or make them for.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Halloween Dolly
The Halloween grrl came from Sew Darn Cute, a craft site.You should also see the Weird Grrlz 1st Annual Round Robin Art Doll Swap.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
From The Holiday Gazette
The Holiday Gazette:
Halloween is tied for being my favourite holiday. Even though it's still September my mind is on ghosts, ghouls and goblins. Mostly haunted houses.
I guess that goes along with my interest in urban exploration which is having a look at abandoned buildings. I've taken a few photographs of two abandoned houses in my area. I didn't dare to go inside without having someone else around. Just in case I had an accident. I don't have a cell phone to call and let anyone know where I was. Assuming they could find the out of the way and off the beaten path location.
What is the attraction to an old wreck? I really don't have a good answer. Maybe it's the mystery or the loneliness of the place. A version of that cheer for the underdog thing. An abandoned house can't get much more underdog.
My nephew called them "wrecky rat bird" when he was a little boy. We had been telling him about an abandoned paint factory we saw on a road trip. He must have clicked on the idea of it being a dwelling for rats and birds cause that was what he began calling all the ruined places we saw on that trip and afterwards. It's stuck too, I still call them that when I'm talking about them. Even though no one else knows where the term came from it's not so hard to figure out.
Hope you are having a few little tremours of Halloween, even though it's not October yet.
Friday, September 15, 2006
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