I visit a lot of states in the New England area when I'm pimping my books. It always amazes me how different each little colony really is when I'm traveling through it, which seems strange to me, because honestly, New England, we're not that big. Here's what I've discovered about our little corner of the country in my travels:

Maine: Overall, I like Maine, but mostly because I truly adore all of the Maine residents I know (Judie, Peter, Holly, JP, Danny, and Tommy, who arguably compose 2/3 of the population). Also, they have funny buildings with cows on top of them. 

The downside to Maine is that it's too big. You people who live in the 38 other states that are bigger than Maine might pooh-pooh that statement, but believe me, in New England, Maine is a mighty behemoth of endless highways, occasionally littered with moose carcasses and bear dung. Driving to Maine is like driving forever, with nary a lobster shack in sight to mark the end of your journey.

Also, Maine is cold and it has blackflies.

Massachusetts: There are some weird things going on in Massachusetts. First of all, why their drivers feel that they have to live up to their rather dubious nickname (hint: it rhymes with Massho—never mind, that's actually it) is beyond me. Is there some sort of special drivers' ed school they all attend that teaches them that direction signals are optional, as are passing lanes?

Second of all, it rains a lot in Mass, even when the neighboring states all have sunshine and warm breezes going on. I don't know why this is—maybe God is punishing Massachusetts for giving us the Kennedys? Regardless, the damp weather in this state puts the "England" in New England.

That being said, Massachusetts is a lot like Connecticut, which I consider a good thing. They understand our pain when it comes to the high cost of living, road construction, and governors who are suspected of fraud. I suspect that if the entire state of Connecticut was sucked up by aliens and transported just over the border, most of us wouldn’t even notice, except we'd be the only people not talking funny, and we’d complain about the rain more.

New Hampshire: I will admit that I haven't traveled deep into the heart of New Hampshire—Portsmouth is about as far as I ever get. (I had a great-aunt who lived in Nashua, but again, we're really still looking at "just over the border.") Here's what I've discovered about New Hampshire: they have deliberately set up their highways and side roads to confuse the heck out of tourists. I'm talking, of course, about rotaries and roundabouts.

One time while visiting Portsmouth, my friend Cat and I decided to take a little road trip (we urgently needed Cool Ranch Doritos, so an emergency supply run was necessary). We drove half a mile away from the hotel, got lost in a roundabout, and (I am not making this up) wound up in MAINE. Maine! I didn't even think that was geographically possible!

New Hampshire: a lovely place to visit, but I usually only wind up there when I'm lost.

Rhode Island: As a former resident of Little Rhody, I can tell you that Rhode Islanders are a proud, proud people. I liken this to short man's syndrome: their ego is really out of proportion to their stature. Maybe it's because they're sure they have the best food in New England. I'm not gonna argue with them, because Rhode Islanders are a feisty bunch.

Rhode Island is beautiful, and with the abovementioned food (johnny cakes, New York System hot wieners, clam cakes, and doughboys), it's very easy to get fat while living there. I know I did.

Vermont: Did you know that in 1968, Vermont passed an ordinance banning all roadside advertising from its highways? And that said ordinance still stands today? AND that they apparently don't believe in pesky things like lights on their highways? Now imagine you're driving in Vermont when it's not broad daylight. They have mountains, so there's lots of fog, too. You're low on gas and you need the facilities. But there is nary a highway sign nor even a dimly flickering streetlight to guide you to where you want to go. That's right: you're gonna die.

On the plus side, the one event I did in Vermont resulted in the largest number of book sales I've ever had in one place. So Vermont is clearly full of readers, which means it can't be all bad. And those mountains? They're the Green Mountains, which means they have Green Mountain coffee at all the rest stops—if you happen to accidentally stumble across one in the dark.
 
Connecticut: Ah, Connecticut. My home state. Famous for having the most boring nicknames ("The Nutmeg State," "The Insurance Capital of the World" . . . have you fallen asleep yet?) and for having the highest number of potholes per square mile in the nation. We can't keep a sports team—the Hartford Dark Blues (MLB), the Hartford Blues (NFL, and see what I mean about stupid names?), the New England Blizzard (ABL), and the Hartford Whalers (NHL) have all left Connecticut simply because our residents refuse to leave their homes between November and May to attend a sporting event. We're bland, blasé, and antisocial.

We're not all bad, though. Connecticut has long been cited as the one state in the nation that does not have an accent. That's right: the rest of you should be talking like us. And we are adamant about making sure there are bright lights and cheap advertising plastered all over our highways. Let me reiterate this once again: this is a good thing.

Also, we have the UCONN women's basketball team. So there's that.

There you have it: my review of New England. Each state has its own personality and character flaws, just waiting for you to explore them. Have fun. Personally, I don't like to leave my house between November and May.

Have you ever noticed that the Internet is chock-full of do-it-yourself tips, tricks, and handy advice? I don't know about you, but it seems like every day I'm seeing "Six Life Hacks You Can't Live Without!" or "You've Been Cutting Your Watermelon Wrong!" or even "Why Waste Money at a Salon? Try This at Home!"

Wait a minute. I hate wasting money. And I could use a trip to the salon. This sounded promising. So I decided to throw caution into the wind. I clicked on the link.

First up was a list of suggestions for highlighting your hair at home. Most of them involved sunlight, but I found one that required no sun and only one ingredient: hydrogen peroxide.

Now, I've highlighted my hair with hydrogen peroxide before. It was a go-to beauty trick that I remembered from the '80s. It didn't work then, but maybe hydrogen peroxide had new, improved ingredients. Color booster. Something.

I separated a few strands of hair and soaked them in peroxide. Then I wrapped them in aluminum foil, because I had a vague memory of my sister doing this back in high school. She'd worked as a receptionist for a hair salon, so clearly she was a hair-highlighting expert. I couldn't wait for my lustrous new locks.

After thirty minutes, I peeled off the foil, washed my hair, and blew it dry. I peered closely at the mirror. I squinted. I pulled out a flashlight and aimed it directly at my head. The cat thought I was playing a game with her and jumped up to attack the flashlight beam, slid into the sink, and got her paw caught in the drain. I had to use cat treats and a spoon to set her free. During the whole ordeal, not a single highlight glimmered on my head.

Conclusion: Hydrogen peroxide works about as well now as it did back in high school.  There are no new ingredients.

Not one to give up easily, I moved on. Next up was a homemade facial scrub that would exfoliate the skin and give me a brighter, more youthful appearance. The best part about it: it was easy to make. Just take a skin cleanser (I used Cetaphil), mix it with sugar, and start scrubbing. I could do that! I immediately began imagining how much younger and healthier my skin would look.

The recipe called for equal parts face cleaner and sugar, but measuring would take at least 30 seconds, and quite frankly, I didn't feel like wasting that much time. I dumped some Cetaphil in my palm, added sugar, and mixed. It felt grainy. It smelled like frosting. You know: good.

I scrubbed it in my skin. I took special care to exfoliate my lips, too, because the article said not to forget this often-neglected area. Interesting . . . this facial scrub tasted pretty darn good. I decided it was time to rinse in hot water before my facial scrub turned into dessert.

Do you know what happens to sugar when you add hot water? I found myself with a thick mask of syrup all over my face. I scrubbed with a washcloth, ate up as much as I could, and finally gave up and went with a scouring pad to get this crap off my face.

Conclusion: Yes, my face did feel exfoliated. I felt much more attractive, particularly to ants and flies. And I got to have a yummy afternoon snack, too. I'm not sure if my brighter, healthier skin was from the homemade facial scrub or the Brillo pad, though.

It was finally time to go in for the kill. I needed a makeup overhaul. The article I found listed 32 tips to make your eyes wider, lips fuller, and cheeks more contoured. I decided to try them all. Honestly, I thought the results would be hilarious. Surely I would wind up with an "after" picture for the ages. I giggled to myself as I started with the cheek contouring. This would be horrible! Which would be great!

The weird thing was, these makeup tips . . . worked. I blended darker colors in the hollows of my cheeks, and lighter concealer to hide the bags under my eyes. I extended my lipstick past my lip line for the impression of fuller, more kissable lips. I followed the secret-Hollywood-insider instructions to make my eyes look wider and brighter. I thought for sure I'd look like Courtney Love after a night on the town. But I didn't. I looked kinda . . . nice.

Arguably, I should have stopped here.

Since all was going so swimmingly, I decided to push a little further. You know who was pretty? Andie MacDowell, back in the day. She was gorgeous. I wanted that look.

Except that when I googled her picture, I found a much more intriguing look. One that I knew I could pull off. Sleek. Sophisticated. Scary. And I had all of the tools (and props) I needed right here at home. I decided to go for it.

And so, my droogs, I finished off my home makeover in style. Pretty? Maybe not. But I felt like a bolshy devotchka. And really, isn't that the point of it all?

It's the most wonderful time of the year, and to celebrate Halloween, I've decided to list my favorite horror movie baddies of all time. Don't agree? Too bad. It's my blog, not yours.

10.  Michael Myers from the Halloween series

Though Donald Pleasance and Jamie Lee Curtis really make this movie for me, the fact that Michael Myers just won't die no matter how much you shoot, stab, and impale him is unsettling. I've got some bad guys in my own family. I'd like to think they'll die eventually. This guy just won't.

9.  Church from Pet Sematary

Maybe Gage creeped you out in this movie, but for me, it was the cat, Church, that did it for me. I love cats, but seeing Church all feral and possessed by demonic forces upset me more than the kid wandering out in front of a semi. I've never wanted to have kids, and my indifference to Gage's roadkill status just kind of proves that I made the right choice there. So the kid's a creature from Hell now. Eh. It's the poor mangy kitty-cat that still bothers me.

8.  Pinhead from the Hellraiser series

First off, you should know that I hate needles, things resembling needles, and witnessing anything that goes in to or under the skin. (Even splinters make me squeamish.) So it bothers me just to look at this guy. He does get major karma points, however, for being smugly amusing. My favorite Pinhead quote: "Do I look like someone who cares about what God thinks?" If I'm going to Hell, I fully expect Pinhead to be the guy waiting there.

7.  Norman Bates's mother in Psycho

Poor Norman Bates. He had so much potential. Shy in an endearing way, with the boyish good looks of Anthony Perkins (in the movie, anyway). If only he wasn't such a mama's boy. She really ruined his life . I guess it's true . . . we all go a little mad sometimes.

6.  Cujo the dog in Cujo

As I have previously mentioned, I am a cat person. But I was rooting for this giant, slobbering, slightly rabid Saint Bernard in this movie. Sure, he was terrifying, and he made me wet my pants a few times. But we, as the audience, were trapped inside that car with a shrill, screeching Danny Pintauro. His high-pitched wailing and sniveling made my ears bleed. I was with the dog—good Lord, I wanted that kid dead.

5.  Kane from Poltergeist II: The Other Side

This movie, as a whole, was disappointing. However, Julian Beck as the creepy preacher is just terrifying. Beck was dying of stomach cancer when this movie was shot, and as a result, he looks gaunt and gruesome. After sleeping with the lights on for years after watching the first Poltergeist, I'd just gotten used to the dark again until I watched Kane hiss "You're all gonna die!" and fished out my nightlight again.

4.  Jack Torrance from The Shining

Jack Nicholson was amazingly scary as a man losing his grip on reality in the most horrible of ways in this movie. The haunted hotel, the creepy twins, the elevator full of blood . . . I had nightmares. But the scariest part of all was that this movie raised a terrible question: If you can't trust your dad, who can you trust? (Answer: Scatman Crothers.)

3.  Jason Voorhees from the Friday the 13th series

Though this is not my favorite eighties slasher series, I have a lot of respect for the villain, Jason Voorhees. Mostly because I've met Kane Hodder, the guy who plays him, several times, and he's a sweetheart. He's also really proud of the role he played in these movies, and even has a tattoo inside his lower lip that says "KILL." (Because the killer's theme music is "ki-ki-ki, ma-ma-ma," which, of course, is short for "Kill her, Mommy!") You've got to love a guy who embraces a character that much.

2.  Hannibal Lecter from The Silence of the Lambs (and an honorable mention: Buffalo Bill)

This movie was brilliant. Anthony Hopkins was amazing as Hannibal Lecter. Ted Levine was ubercreepy as Jame Gumb. I cite this book and movie all the time when I'm talking about how to make your audience uncomfortable—by making the villain appealing. (James Spader on The Blacklist is another excellent example of this. Ooh! Maybe television baddies are next! But I digress.) I could watch this movie over and over again—and have.

1.  Freddy Krueger from the original Nightmare on Elm Street series

I LOVE Freddy Kreuger (and Robert Englund). I loved him when he was dark and sinister in the first A Nightmare on Elm Street, and I loved him as he cracked jokes while filleting teenagers in later installments. "Hey Dylan, ever played skin-the-cat?" Ha ha! That's comedic gold, my friends! Apparently, I'm willing to root for even a horribly burned, undead child murderer if he can make me laugh.

I'm always a little nervous starting a new job assignment, mostly because my coworkers often think I'm a weirdo. On my last assignment, they were a little taken aback when I showed up the first day wearing a necklace of a panda bear that looked like Gene Simmons, and honestly, that was from my more conservative jewelry collection. However, this new assignment started close to the Halloween season, which turned out to be very, very fortunate for me.

When I wore my pewter "Freddy Krueger Glove" necklace on the first day, my boss thought it was great that I was getting in to the spirit of Halloween so early. Umm . . . what? This was my normal, everyday jewelry attire. But okay. I'd roll with it.

My Jack Skellington bag, skull socks, twins-from-The-Shining cameo necklace, blood-spattered hair clips, and chainsaw earrings were all met equally with delight and approval. What was going on here? I once had a boss who told me my tasteful and subdued black cat earrings were "not appropriate" because they "showcased my personality" (and good lord, we certainly couldn't have that, could we?). But now I was being encouraged to let my inner crazy shine. Was this all an elaborate hoax? Was I about to be fired?

When October 1st hit, things became clearer. My wonderful, wonderful boss had not been allowed to decorate until the first of the month (apparently this had come up in years past), but once October hit, he, too, could embrace his inner ghoul. By the end of the day, the office was decorated with spiders, amputated hands, impressive homemade cannibal rats (including half-eaten rat babies), pumpkins, ghosts, and a giant witch dressed in gossamer, hanging from the ceiling. This explained a lot. What I had here was a kindred spirit.   

My office-mates were equally embracing the Halloween festivities. One woman came in wearing a pumpkin on her head. Another decided it would be fun to try and dress up every day for the entire month. (A third unfortunate soul reported that she had nightmares after we had an important group discussion on whether or not The Exorcist was really based on a true story. Our bad.)

There's nothing quite like the feeling that you are embraced and accepted in an environment. And my particular fascination with all things dark and scary had finally, finally found a home. These were my people. I go into work these days with a smile on my face, humming the Addams Family theme song, wondering what the day will bring today. Papier-mâché eyeballs? Gummy spiders? I've already brought in trays of finger cookies (you know, cookies that literally look like fingers), brownies iced to look like tombstones, and sandwiches with fangs. I was awarded Employee of the Month for October.

I'm not sure what's going to happen when I come in wearing my embroidered skull sweater come November 1st, but for now, I'm going to enjoy this while I can!                                        

Let me just say for the record that I love my current job, and just as importantly, my current commute. The job is fun, my coworkers are nice, and the commute is half as long as my last one. I still have about 40 minutes each way to think about deep, important things. Am I polishing up my latest novel in my head, or solving world problems as I drive? You be the judge. Here's what went through my head today as I drove:

• It's rain, people, not snow. Learn how to drive!
• The guy in front of me has a bumper sticker that looks like a hot air balloon and says "FAT" on it. What does that mean? Seems vaguely insulting. Maybe I'll honk at him.
• Ugh. If you're going to hit a squirrel, make sure you kill it. That's all I'm saying.
• My bad knee hurts this morning. Is this due to the rain, or due to the three pounds I've put on this week thanks to the arrival of Hostess Halloween Glo Balls™ in stores now? Am I fat? Really, if nobody gets your stupid fat hot air balloon bumper sticker, why have it on your car at all?
• Are there still people in the world who think OJ didn't do it? How does Marcia Clark deal with that?
• Wow, the lead singer Jimi Jamison of Survivor just died, and he was fairly young. Only 63 . . . You know who I love? Survivor winner Richard Hatch.
• Catchy tune. "I'm all about that bass, 'bout that bass, no treble." Why did I give up playing the cello?
• The guy in the car next to me can't be more than 30. That's a shame, because he's got a terrible comb-over going on, which, trust me, is the least attractive hairstyle in the world. I'm tempted to roll down my window and scream "Shave it all OFF, man!" Could I get arrested for that?
• You know who hated being arrested? Richard Hatch.
• There's something unpleasant I must acknowledge about getting older. I hate to do it, but it has to be said. While it's true that Nick Rhodes has always been my favorite member of Duran Duran, out of all of them, John Taylor is really aging the best. My sister was right: he's still hot. And, let's face it, Roger Taylor looks darn good these days. Who would've predicted that?
• Oh, Dylan McDermott has a new show out this fall according to the radio? He was in Steel Magnolias, a movie I could quote endlessly. Like Young Frankenstein. I quote that movie all the time. "Werewolf?" "There wolf! There castle!" Ha ha! Seriously, people, it's RAIN, not sleet!
• Did I comb my hair this morning?
• I'm sure there's a story I can write about the snapping turtle hatchery we've got going on right now. Hmmm . . . using turtles as a murder weapon . . . an unhapp—oh, look! I didn't know there was a Whole Foods there!
• They're repaving this part of the highway. Jeez, that tar stinks . . . I wish chunky black boots would come back in style. I mean, I still wear them, but it would be nice if they were actually in style.
• What, are we not in Connecticut? Yellow means floor it, people!

As you can clearly see, I've been quite busy philosophizing and solving the issues of the world during my morning commute. Clearly, there's Aristotle, Nietzsche, and me. My planned musings for the drive home this afternoon: More squirrels, whether or not rain has been proven to lower driving IQs, Pepperidge Farms snickerdoodles, and a little debate in my mind about whether or not Richard Hatch was truly the best Survivor player ever. (Answer: yes.)


Available now! Insanity Tales, a collaboration with my writers' group, featuring me, David Daniel, Dale T. Phillips, Vlad V., and Ursula Wong! Order ten copies today!