- When showing up to that costume party you were invited to, you chose to wear your regular clothes. You know, jeans, a t-shirt, etc. When people came up to you and asked what you were supposed to be, you said, “I’m a witch!” Now, what happened next puzzled you. The person you were talking to gives you a look of both confusion and pity. This was the look you were hoping for. You took this look as your cue to jump in and begin explaining about real witches in the modern era, much to the chagrin of Betsy in IT who just thought maybe you were going as someone from The Office. Now Betsy thinks you’re a stoner-hipster-freak and you look like a deranged douche.
- While you haven’t paid any attention to it all year, your eyes are suddenly glued to the 24-hour TV marathons of Bewitched, Charmed, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. When others criticize either the amount of time you’ve wasted, or the quality of the shows you’re watching, you begin to lecture them on the representation of more witches on primetime programming. They bring up Supernatural, and you attempt to smack them.
- You’re not allowed to go to any movie opening in the month of October, except for romantic comedies, because you cannot stop telling everyone how unrealistic, historically inaccurate, or just plain wrong the movies are. “Come on,” you say. “Everybody knows the witches in Salem weren’t burned at the stake.” Or, “Jesus, you really expect us to believe that that girl in the goth outfit did all that damage to that school with one freaking candle? She didn’t even summon Cthulhu!” Or, “That’s it! If one more movie comes out with magical, unbelievably beautiful supernatural beings who take their shirts off more times than they reference being undead or part of a coven, I’m labeling it soft-core porn and moving on to Rob Zombie slashers.”
- You decide that you’re a big enough magical bad ass, so you buy a Ouija board. You start playing with it, attempting to summon up several characters from folklore you thought were fake, only to discover you’re not quite that big of a magical bad ass. Now you’re looking for a new place to live.
- When children showed up at your house to trick-or-treat, you handed out candy. However, this was not the regular faire of chocolate, hard candy, or chewy fruity treats. No, this was special candy that you had bought last August. Sure it looked the same, but you have been secretly blessing it by the light of the full and dark moons. 3 months later, you have magical candy intent on bespelling the youthful populace into becoming your devoted slaves. And, of course, you thought the deranged aftermath was your magical doing and not the consumption of mass quantities of expired chocolate.
- You noticed that the next-door neighbors put out a life-size witch with a fake, plastic broom as a yard decoration. You became so incensed at the horrid fake broom - not caring about the green-faced, warty hag - that you made them one from scratch. You cut the tree branch under the corresponding moon phase, you plucked the most beautiful array of flowers and twigs for the bristles, and you bound it in an authentic manner with twine and branches. Then, you blessed it by the power of 3 witch Goddesses and laid it on their doorstep when they weren’t home as a present. A few days later, you became ticked off that they had mistaken your bundle of branches…I mean broom…as trash and threw it in the garbage. But, you showed them! You got it out and put it in the yard waste bucket. At least if they’re going to throw it away, they’re going to be green about it.
- You’re so upset by the stereotype of witches that you wore a conical hat to a costume party in protest. And you’re a man. Hey, everyone should know you can be a man witch.
- For no particular reason, you decided to start calling your cat or dog or parakeet your ‘familiar’. You never use this term in your daily life, but one month out of the year seems to turn Fluffy the cat into the four-legged instrument of magical DOOM. You also vehemently deny that this has anything whatsoever to do with seeing that movie on TV with the witches and the Halloween and the magic and stuff. No, you’ve always called your pet your ‘familiar’. Though, for some reason, you stopped doing so on November 1st.
- For your friend’s Halloween party you were assigned to bring the ‘Witch’s brew.’ Not wanting to appear stingy, you make several different kinds of your favorite brews. You showed up to the party with an assortment of jugs of various colors, however party goers never touched a drop after the first girl said she thought one jug looked like it had urine in it. Really…you shouldn’t have said that it did. In your defense, the description of ‘Witch’s brew’ should have included the caveat - a mixture of fruit punch and vast quantities of alcohol NOT a combination of bodily fluids and herbs from your back yard.
- When it came time to decorate your house for Halloween, you didn’t have to buy any extra decorations. You just went to your altar, grabbed as much witchy junk as you could carry, and put it all around your house. Despite moans and groans from your family, you argue that this is the one time of year when your witchy stuff isn’t relegated to one room in the back of the house. While this saved on your decorating fees, it led to some rather odd conversations when Tina from work popped over to say Happy Halloween. After taking a look around at your unconventional décor, she took a peek in your rather realistic cauldron and asked, “Umm… What’s in here?” Quickly realizing you’d left part of your most recent spell - whose target had actually been Tina (or, technically, Tina’s sweet parking space) - in said cauldron, you were left fumbling with words to only come up with, “Err… Oh! That’s where I kept that extra set of pictures of you from work! … burned…”
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Love and Lyte,