Katie Pumpkinhead’s Pumpkin Patch

 Something you may or may not have known about me, but possibly suspected:  I trick-or-treated until I was way past the age that society seems to deem “too old”. And, since every October, the question of “How old is ‘too old’?” seems to come back around, I thought I’d share my experiences, in defense of those “big kids” who may come around on Halloween night. As you obviously know if you know me at all, Halloween is my absolute life, and has more or less been such since my first experience with trick-or-treating at the age of four. Trick-or-treating was a magical thing to me, as a kid whose parents set strict bedtimes and very rarely ventured out for more than typical mundane tasks. It was just such a deep contrast to the rest of my life in my childhood, that it quickly became my favorite thing to do. Perhaps Halloween became my favorite holiday because every other aspect of my life was just boring, but I digress.  Anyway, I waited with bated breath for Halloween every single year from

 One of the big things I have been looking forward to this Halloween season is seeing how the Halloween movie franchise finally ends. Halloween has been an iconic part of my “spooky seasons” since I was very young, even before I actually watched the movies. And, even though I may enjoy Freddy Krueger’s sense of humor just slightly more than Michael Myers’ more “strong and silent” approach to slasher-dom, the Halloween movies are always my go-to when it comes to rewatching an OG slasher. The atmosphere is just perfect. While many people seemed to be on the fence about Halloween Kills, I absolutely loved it and it’s one of my main go-to movies, period, not even just within the Halloween franchise. So I naturally had pretty high hopes for Halloween Ends.  To say that I was disappointed, just might be an understatement.  Halloween Ends was basically  the Necro episode  of American Horror Stories, minus a few details, with a little bit of Laurie Strode and Michael Myers thrown in. The movie

 As you probably know, my taste in Halloween-y things ranges from things meant for people years (okay, sometimes decades ) younger than myself, to the darkest of horrors. I love spooky cute, but I also love a good gore fest, especially when it's set on Halloween night. It probably comes as no surprise that I absolutely love the Terrifier movies and particularly the character of Art the clown. And I consider myself extremely lucky to have caught Terrifier 2 in the theater on opening night. Before you ask, no, no one threw up or fainted at my showing. A couple of people got up and presumably went to the bathroom but I didn't see a sense of urgency in these people that told me they were about to toss their popcorn. At almost two and a half hours long, this is a movie some people simply may need a pee break halfway through. A few people behind me did gasp a lot, though.  Aside from a few moments that triggered my ommetaphobia, I got through it perfectly fine and thoroughly enjoyed

 I'm really not the type to "gatekeep". I don't think there should be any sort of justification needed for enjoying something, no matter how your enjoyment of it measures up, or doesn't, to that of other people. There's nothing wrong with being a lifelong fan or a brand new one, discovering something because your parents loved it or because it suddenly became popular. I actually, personally, have a strange relationship, or rather non-relationship, with music because of judgement and gatekeeping. It's crappy. But yet, I can't help but feel a strange, and, I can't lie, pretty negative curiosity toward the people I like to refer to as "once a yearers". This is my term for the people that only celebrate Halloween once a year. For the record, I don't actually think there's anything inherently wrong with enjoying seasons, you know, seasonally. As many of you know if you've been reading my blog for awhile, I have a weird love for Val

 When I was seven years old, I saw a movie that changed my life. I was a scaredy-cat kid who loved Halloween, and it was hard for me to find things relating to that that I could watch, and not have anxiety over later on.  But then came Hocus Pocus. I saw the movie for the first time during one of those “free preview” weeks that the Disney Channel used to offer, back in the days when certain channels were “premium subscription” and your parents wouldn’t pay the price to keep it permanently. Ironically, I believe Hocus Pocus aired the day we put the Christmas tree up. To say I fell in love with this movie would be the ultimate understatement. I became obsessed .  I dreamt of being best friends with Dani Dennison. I woke up every morning hoping my cats would talk to me, all the while begging for a solid black one. I desperately tried to emulate Winifred Sanderson, to the point of trying to speak like her. (I have a weird memory of asking the family dog something along the lines of “Why do