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Five Places to Get Your Scare On

10/15/2015

 
I do a lot of Halloween attractions. I’m a horror writer, after all, so I feel like I’m obligated to check out these haunted houses and spooky spectacles for you.

Here are some of my favorites:

1.     Trail of Terror, Wallingford, CT—We did the trail a few years ago with my sister-in-law and brother-in-law. The line was long, but there were zombies doing the “Thriller” dance to entertain us as we waited. The power went out (really—it wasn’t meant to be part of the experience) when we were about a third of the way through. We were trapped in the dark for the better part of an hour. The truly terrifying part was how badly I needed to pee. However, the best moment of the Trail of Terror was at the bathroom facilities afterwards. Jason’s sister Joy waited until her brother was in the porta-potty, then started banging on the port-a-john walls and screaming. I nearly wet my pants from laughing so hard. Maybe you had to be there. But I’d highly recommend doing this attraction with my sister-in-law.

2.     Eastern State Penitentiary, Philadelphia, PA—This prison is absolutely worth touring during the day, and I do suggest you do the audio tour with Steve Buscemi narrating. At night in the fall, they turn it into a fabulous haunted attraction. The actors are spooky, completely into their roles, and there are seven different sections of the prison to walk through. So much fun!

3.     Six Flags Fright Fest, nationwide (I went to Agawam, MA)—I won’t lie: I’ve had better. But you have to hand it to Six Flags: they try. During the day, they have “Monstertainment” in the form of performing vampires, ghouls, and mummies; at night, they open up the Wicked Woods and Zombie’s Revenge. It’s fun, though repetitive—Area 51 hasn’t changed much from year to year, and throwing some cobwebs on the Buzzsaw doesn’t really make it more terrifying. But the Demon District and Midnight Mansion are fun. As with everything at Six Flags, their main goal is to part you from your money: many attractions require an additional fee.

4.     My cousin Lori’s house, Columbia, CT—Okay, so this isn’t open to the public, but she and her husband Frank delight in, and I quote, “scaring the living crap out of the neighborhood kids.” She had a ghastly pumpkin-head scarecrow on the lawn one year, and at least three kids pooped themselves when it moved. Hee hee! Too bad you can’t visit her.

5.     Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights, Orlando, FL—If you want to do Halloween right, you have to visit Universal during Horror Nights. They change over nine different attractions to make them haunted, and I’m not talking about some cheap nylon cobwebs. These people have the budget to change the whole freaking ride to make it so terrifying, you will be filling your shorts like the kids who live on my cousin Lori’s street. They think of everything, even shutting off the bulbs on the drive-in theater so the sign reads DIE-IN. Absolutely the pinnacle of Halloween fun.

So there you have it: my top picks in Halloween horror attractions. Apparently, for me, Halloween means soiling yourself repeatedly. If you can’t afford the trip to Orlando this October, I highly recommend trekking over to Philly. The prison’s awesome, the food is good, and they also do a haunted downtown tour of the city at night.

You do what you must to get your scare on. I’m going to Lori’s house.
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Fright Fest. The truly scary thing is that belly bag.

Vacation

8/21/2015

 
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On August 18, 2005, I moved off Block Island and rejoined mainland life. Imagine my surprise a decade later when I realized it was my "mainland anniversary"—and I was sitting on a ferry with my mother, heading to the island for a week's vacation. Perhaps I need to expand my horizons and travel to different places. You might be right. But I really needed a vacation, I was craving quality time with my family, and the rent was cheap enough. Off I went.
Mom and I took this picture on the ferry. Hard to believe that until I actually saw this photo, I used to think those sunglasses made me look like Jackie Kennedy.

Papa Bear
When we arrived on the island, Dad was there waiting for us. He was eager to show off his new pizza stone. A friend had advised him to oil it heavily before using, which had resulted in a bit of a flaming oil fire. Dad spent the afternoon trying to burn off some of the oil in the stone by heating it up on the grill on the deck, which resulted in a deck fire.

The good times had only just begun.

My sister and her family arrived the next day. But what is there to do on Block Island, you might ask? Honestly, not a heck of a lot. We decided to head to the beach.

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Here are my and my sister's feet. Everybody always says they can tell we're sisters just by looking at us, but I think that's silly. Her manicure is in "Aphrodite's Pink Nightie" pink, and I'm wearing "Lunch at the Delhi." See? We're nothing alike.

Shortly after we spread out the blanket, a dog came by and pooped in the sand. Its owner was then kind enough to dig a hole and bury the poo. This prompted my father to wisely observe, "Never bury dog crap below the high tide marker." We moved our blanket.
The dog droppings, it turned out, were an omen. There we were, my nephews swimming in the ocean, my mother, sister and I reading and snacking on sand-flavored Doritos, when it happened.

A seagull pooped on my mother's arm.

We tried to assure her that it was good luck. She was not amused. (I was, and Mom, I apologize again for getting the giggles for two hours straight.)

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It was time to pack it up for the afternoon. We returned to the house, ate dinner, and decided to try again the next day.

When we arrived at State Beach the next morning, things were looking sunny. We saw this big guy eyeing my mother, but she was packing heat this time, and he wisely backed off when she threw a flip-flop at him.

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The beach was pretty crowded. We had to walk quite a ways to find a spot where we'd all fit. Luckily, once we passed the sign that read END OF GUARD ZONE—SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK, there was plenty of room.

Here's my sister Kim, my brother-in-law Tim, and me, posing at that fun little sign.

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Nobody else seemed worried that we'd be swimming at our own risk, so who was I to argue? We set up our chairs and watched the boys swim. I got a little emotional, reminiscing about the days when Nathan would toddle into the water, chasing random balls or seaweed, while baby Evan would sit on the beach in his diaper and eat sand.

To give you an idea of how far back I had to go to reminisce about such things, here's a shot of the boys now. They've grown a bit. I have to give them credit, though: when I asked them to pose, they weren't a bit shy. I love those guys.

So there you have it. I don't have anything witty or wise to write about this week, because I'm taking some time off to relax. This week, I get to be one of those annoying people who shows everyone their pictures of summer vacation.

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