I am almost 100% serious.

Halloween is the Anti-Christmas. That statement can be interpreted two ways:  

1. Christmas is the celebration of the coming of Christ while Halloween is the celebration of all things devilish, even the antichrist.
2. Christmas is the best day ever, and on a scale of one-to-Christmas, (Christmas being infinity) Halloween consistently scores a negative-Christmas. (And you know, negative infinity is really not a lot.)

This blog post will solely address the second statement. I mean, I can see where the first statement is coming from, but whatever. Like, whatever.

***

Halloween is one night every year that children are encouraged to go door to door begging for candy. Gluttony is literally forced upon kids.  Children who are afraid to wear costumes (that was me) are forced to dress up as butterflies (me, again). Children who love to dress up are forced into an unspoken competition which is generally won by the kid whose parents spend the most money on his costume. For an entire month, all the kiddie TV shows and classroom activities are themed with ghosts and skeletons and zombies. None of these things are worth celebrating. None of these things are worth fixing your mind upon.

When I was in 3rd, 4th, and 5th grades, my mother decided she didn't care for Halloween. My brother and sister and I were forbidden to go trick-or-treating. (You read it, the f-word: forbidden!) We stayed home and passed out candy to the other kids. We kept tally marks of the most common costumes and we became increasingly jealous with every Batman at our door.

I am certain at this point in my life I slung around some terrible words, like "You're the worst mom ever!" and "People who hate Halloween shouldn't be allowed to have children!" 

I would like to retract both of those statements. 

***

In middle grades and high school, Halloween became more about trying to swindle as much free candy as possible, pretending to believe ghost stories, and venturing off to haunted houses. I am not a fan of getting sick to my stomach, wetting my pants, or wetting my pants.  No one is. Not one ounce of anything good comes out of Halloween night for teenagers. I suppose this is also the age when people can begin to be categorized as "hooligans," who smash pumpkins and play ding-dong-ditch, etc. Pumpkins should not be smashed and door bells should not be ditched. 

In tenth grade, I was friends with two German exchange students. We obviously had to go trick-or-treating together so they could see what the big fuss is about. Most of us in the group dressed up like silly things: a piñata, hippie, prom queen, disco ball... but the two German exchange students dressed up like terrifyingly spooky witches. We went door-to-door in the most affluent neighborhood because they would give the best candy. (Seriously? Who was I?) Every time a family answered their door, the two witches would yell with thick accents, "Trick or treat from Germany!" 

No one believed that they were actually from Germany.

***

Now as a college student, I find Halloween is pretty different. It's avoidable (yesss) but all the same disheartening. In stores, almost every single adult-sized costume for women is suggestive and revealing. Women who would otherwise wear more clothing are allowing the objectification of their bodies for just one night. 

Why? What is so special about Halloween that we're "allowed" to do this? Nothing. Nothing is special about Halloween. It's just an excuse. I suppose if you're really looking for an excuse, you don't need much of one. I am not saying that girls who wear little clothing on Halloween are trash. I am not saying that at all. I am merely wishing they would reevaluate their wardrobe choice and hold to the standards that they set for themselves 364 other nights of the year.  

I really don't mean to be so grouchy about it all. This year I tried to acknowledge the presence of Halloween. Paige and I placed two little pumpkins above our doorway.   But they rotted an entire week before Halloween.

Awkward Harnesses

Today, Emily and I spent consecutive five hours with helmets on our heads. Maybe they were a little too tight.

After correcting about 200 harnesses and helmets, we needed an outlet.

Also, Emily taught me how to whistle using an acorn. 

Ain't no party like a cookie baking party!

...because a cookie baking party has mountains of cookie dough! 

 My small group is the best. A once or twice each semester we have traditional cookie baking marathon. This time, we baked ONE MILLION(x10^-4) cookies! Dark chocolate chip, oatmeal butterscotch, and chocolate with vanilla chips. Are you drooling yet?

Hard at work, or something like that.

Making a mess and getting judged for it.

Friendz 4evur.

This junk is ridiculous. Thank you Pinterest and thank you Whitni.

Maybe this photoset isn't actually funny. But I can't stop laughing at it.

The night included many SNL references to we finally sat down and watched some old sketches together while the cookies cooled.

The whole gang— not quite ready for the picture, but looking good anyway.

You are correct; these do look outrageously delicious.

We looked at the hundred-or-so cookies we baked and realized we could not and should not eat them all. So we brought them as an encouraging treat to the night shift nurses at a nearby hospital, where our Bible study leader is an interning chaplain. The nurses were confused and excited to see us delivering cookies at midnight!

Happy, happy Ana with the cookies all packaged up and ready for delivery.

We've all got another year and a half of dorm life before we live with real kitchens. And once we do, it may not be such an exciting endeavor to bake cookies. So until then, I'll keep marveling at the opportunity to mix things in a bowl, stick it in an oven, and come out with a delectable treat.

Dogkward

Awkward Photo Saturday. Celebrate with a bandana.

You know me and Linus: no nonsense, all football.

Better Late than... Whatever

Last weekend was Fall Break! Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, my brother and sister and I romped around Orlando, Florida. More specifically: Universal Studios. Most specifically: Harry Potter World. Here are the best pictures.

Kyla demanded that we ride the Dr. Suess carousel. I didn't complain.

This playground reminded us of one at Sesame Place we used to play on when we were little.

#thatawkwardmomentwhen Thing1 and Thing 2 push your sister out of a photo because they like your brother's shirt.

#thatmagicalmomentwhen Olivander fits you for your own wand.

A Day Late

Awkward Photo Saturday (Accidentally postponed to Sunday): Vacation Edition!

Thing 2: Hold my hand! Matlock: I'm uncomfortable, but okay. Little Girl: What's going on? Green Shirt + Aviators: Stand back, this could be dangerous.

Eddie's Attic

Proposition: Eddie's Attic is the best music venue in the Atlanta area.

Granted, I've only been to about eight different venues, which is surely a small fraction of all. But I've been to Eddie's several times so I think I'm experienced enough to say how great it is.

Five-minute walk from campus, located in the cutesy part of Decatur's square.

Shockingly fantastic food and desserts, at reasonable prices.

Good music, of course! This was the opener Friday night, Seryn.

The artists rave about how welcome they feel. The Vespers love Eddie's and I love The Vespers, therefore I love Eddie's.

It's teensy. And everyone listens attentively. You can feel that everyone is happy to be there.

And P.S. we met all The Vespers, but got a picture with just one. She looks like a Scottie, anyhow ;)

Awkward House

Awkward Photo Saturday: real estate edition.

Log cabin with dead palm trees, large rocks, and fake topiaries.

The Great Hall

Letitia Pate Evans Hall, circa 1950

Much of Agnes Scott College's culture revolves around our dining hall. Agnes Scott's small, quirky student body is required to buy a meal plan, so Evans Hall is an intrinsically comical place for people-watching.

Tonight in the dining hall I saw my favorite professor eating dinner by himself. I said hello and we chatted for a few minutes. He was sitting at a small square table with one tray full of salad, ham, and potatoes and another tray full of dessert and a soft pretzel. It was adorable.

There's always a group of girls huddled around the scanning station, standing and eating.  The group changes depending who is currently scanning people into the dining area. If it's a group of Juniors or Seniors, they say "hey," smile, and scan. Polite and efficient. If it's a group of Sophomores, they grin, tell you what's for dinner, scan your card, and say "You're so very welcome!" Enthusiastic and exhausting. If it's a group of Freshmen, they avoid eye contact, scan, and look startled when you say "thank you."

No one pities the loner. People sit by themselves all the time. I sit by myself all the time. It's refreshingly normal. Introverts welcome.

Everyone gets excited when we see catering staff setting up for a fancy event somewhere on campus. The next day we will have fancy leftover pasta salad, fruit salad, salad made of leaves, and exotic cheeses. Sometimes I only go to breakfast on Saturday mornings in hopes of finding fruit leftover from a rehearsal dinner. 

The popular professor table. Every Thursday they meet at 11:40am and eat at a particular large round table at the back of the seating area. They may seem like just a friendly bunch of professors, but everyone knows they're popular and exclusive. And everyone dreams of one day being invited to sit with them. Ways professors can get invited to the table:

• Have a baby, and it better be cute. You will only be invited when your child is with you.
• Be the adviser for the winning Black Cat Trivia team. That'll earn you about two weeks.
• Look like handsome young Frankenstein and marry an Episcopalian princess.
• Don't blink, ever, and be super witty when talking about your pets. 
• Throw swanky dinner parties where guests make fun of people who think they understand Robert Frost's poetry.
• Go on sabbatical to write a literary textbook.

Holidays make people go bonkers. I now try to avoid the dining hall on holiday dinners because chicks will trample you if you are between them and chocolate covered strawberries.  Halloween? Apparently we've never seen candy before. And even though the dining hall serves cake almost every day, on Birthday-Day we act like savages attacking the enormous sheet cake. Freshman year at the Christmas party, Paige and I had to sit outside because the dining hall was too wild and packed. 

Evans is beautiful, sure. But I fail to understand why so many people book their wedding receptions here.  Do they know what goes on inside these walls? Drag shows, date raffles, capping weeks... this is no place for a formal reception.

Letitia Pate Evans Hall, circa 2009

Ten Out of Tenn

Ten incredible, somewhat-indie musicians from Nashville, Tennessee touring together. Their last stop: Atlanta. It was such a treat.

Paige, Johnnie, and I arrived over an hour before the show started. We earned our incredible view of the stage.

This crazy woman later jumped on stage to grab a set list for me. My hero.

When all ten artists came out on stage, I was so overwhelmed. Four of them were on my Bucket List of Concerts. I didn't know where to keep my eyes. I wanted to watch them all at once.

Gabe Dixon started off the show with my favorite song of his, Running On Fumes.

Tyler James on trumpet, Andrew Belle, Trent Dabbs, and Matthew Perryman Jones.

KS Rhoads and Trent Dabbs, bro-ing out.

I was most excited to hear Andrew Belle play.

...So excited that he deserves two pictures.

Butterfly Boucher rocked bass the entire time- even on her own songs.

Seth Philpott. We'd met once before, so when we chatted before the show, he (pretended that he) remembered me. I was honored.

Erin McCarley happened to be in Atlanta, so she played a surprise song. It was fantastic.

Matthew Perryman Jones and Butterfly Boucher are straight-up rock stars.

Trent Dabbs- the creator of Ten Out of Tenn.

Possibly my favorite picture of the night, all because of Mr. Dabbs' goofy jacket.

Johnnie especially took a liking to Tyler James.

Oh my goodness. Katie Herzig is incredible. Like eerily good. Like perfect.

Fantastic show. They ended the night by coming out into the crowd and singing Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire. We left immediately (but not before snagging a set list) because we had to dash to the Black Cat dance... and because the security guard asked us to leave after Johnnie jumped on stage. Not a big deal. Driving away, we saw the ten jamming out in the middle of the street in front of the venue. Dangerously cool.

The Awk Award

And, the Awk Award goes to... this picture!

Middle part, anklet, buck teeth.

7th grade was hard.