Take a moment to think of a fairy tale. You may be conjuring images of prince charming, frog kisses, a castle, a villain or a strong man saving the princess. And they all lived happily ever after.
Russian fairy tales, on the other hand, do not include a princess charming or a beautiful maiden; they include evil old witches who eat children.
Halloween not only bewitches the United States with trick-or-treating and jack-o-lanterns, this frightful yet delightful holiday has cast a spell on many countries, making All Hallows’ Eve a worldwide celebration. Some of these worldwide traditions have even crept their way into U.S. culture.
These hopeful jack-o-lanterns wait for you to pick them up. The one to the left hopes to become a wolf, the one in the middle hopes to be a Mickey Mouse and the one to the right just wants to be loved. Endless possibilities.
On Halloween, kids get the opportunity to dress up and assume another identity. For me, it wasn’t enough to just dress up as a witch; I wanted to be one.
When I was little, my sister and I would pretend we had magical powers like Sabrina, the teenage witch. We wrote a book of rhyming magical spells and rode around on our mom’s vacuum cleaner, like Sabrina did on TV. We dreamed of having magical powers and of discovering an Other Realm through the linen closet.
It’s not really that weird to fall in love with a serial killer…right?
I mean, I watch “Dexter” like it’s my job and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen just about every single “Law and Order, SVU” ever made at least twice. I’ve seen “American Psycho” upwards of 10 times and every time I finish, I fall deeper and deeper in love with Christian Bale.
Besides ghosts, goblins and evil witches, Halloween is the time for kids to rot their teeth out and satisfy their ultimate sugar rush. When I was a child, my parents would always triple-check the candy that I had collected in my trick-or-treat bag to make sure that some creepy person didn’t poison me.
This week, I had originally planned on digging into an analysis of attraction; however, some recent beauty-centric events —namely a few Ralph Lauren photo fiascos — have gotten me a little side-tracked. So, attraction will just have to sit on the back burner this time around.
Beep. Beep. Beep. I toss and turn in my bed and see the alarm flashing the numbers 7:40 a.m. in the dark. Geez, am I late already?! I was supposed to meet my friend 10 minutes ago down the street so that we could catch the metro together from Plaza de España to Moncloa, the main metro stop for the Universidad Complutense de Madrid (UCM).
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