For obvious reasons, Conlin was Jesus for Halloween.  It's possible he got a bit carried away because he repeatedly sent me pictures of him in stoic poses with captions of the like: "Repent ye sinner."  I was Heisenberg from Breaking Bad which led to a possibly offensive moment where Conlin, er, Jesus blessed me to, you know, save Heisenberg's soul.  So happy Halloween from our politically incorrect family to yours.

On that note...(man, I really didn't set myself up for a smooth segue, did I?), I decided to revisit my dusty corner of the internet because I love writing and sometimes forget how much good it does my soul (even the rambling bits) and because my students have been not-so-subtly hinting that I should write more.

Speaking of which: one of my students informed me it is her life's goal to be mentioned on my blog and because I'm so rarely in a position to help people with life goals, I must snag this opportunity.  Hi, Bailey.  While I'm at it: Destiny and AJ, hi to you as well.

Okay, back to...whatever this is. (Next time I try to write while experiencing a sugar crash, someone hide my computer and, in a sing-song voice, dissuade my attempts, lead me by the hand to the couch, and hand me some saltines).

Anyway.  Here is a thought I had whilst passing out candy: I feel a fundamental disconnect with the children who rummage through the normal candy bars, find a frootie tootie at the bottom, and take that.  I mean, the chances of those kids growing up to experience well-adjusted adulthood are pretty slim, right?  As I see it, their behavior speaks of a flimsy character.

In addition to passing out candy, Halloween ambiance was created by making soup, listening to 50 cent, and reading (sometimes simultaneously, sometimes not).  And while I thoroughly enjoyed my high school experience, I must say that tonight has underlined what a relief it is not to be in high school trying to figure out which party to attend in celebration of a holiday I like from a distance but am panicked by up close.  Parties were a source of general loneliness for me in high school, for reasons mostly linked to me being a closeted introvert.  I just remember watching people interact and feeling like there was some sort of code I wasn't given.  I'm supposed to giggle when?  My hands are supposed to be doing what while I talk?  Eye connect, no eye contact, someone pass me the party manual quick.

...this post is spiraling quickly and while thematic, cohesive blog posts are not my current strength, recognizing when to jump ship is.  So I'm going to hit, "publish" and back slowly away from the screen before I start playing therapist to my own adolescent experiences.  Until next time.

(Seriously, sorry about this post.)