Halloween Candy Personality Quiz

Leave it to Facebook to help you determine which U.S. President you are, what horror monster you’d be, your favorite color and if you’ve ever attended college. Online quizzes are the new GED; and you know you’ve taken at least one (dozen).

I thought I’d create a quiz to determine what your Halloween candy behavior says about you. It is entirely accurate, so be aware, you might learn something disturbing about your personality.

1. Do you hand out: a) king-size Kit Kat bars, b) fun-size Kit Kat bars, c) what’s a Kit Kat bar?, or d) apples.

kit kat

(This is the WRONG WAY to eat a Kit Kat!)

2. Do you search your kid’s Halloween bag for: a) full-size chocolate bars, b) unwrapped candy, c) isn’t everything mine already? or d) apples stuffed with razor blades.

3. How long did your Halloween candy last when you were a child: a) a few weeks, b) a few days, c) a few hours or d) I gave it to my little brother.

4. Which Halloween candy will get your car egged: a) Tootsie rolls, b) Hubba Bubba, c) pencils/erasers, or d) apples.

5. How much do you spend on Halloween candy: a) more than $100, b) between $50 and $100, c) less than $10, or d) I don’t buy candy.

6. What do you do with leftover Halloween candy: a) give it to a children’s shelter, b) give it to neighbor kids, c) you’ve already eaten it, or d) I don’t keep candy in my home.


7. Which of these is NOT appropriate to give out on Halloween: a) toothbrushes, b) fruit, c) sample-size dish soap, or d) candy.

8. What is your Halloween candy of choice: a) candy bars, b) suckers, c) chewy taffy or d) apples.


If you answered mostly A, you are trying to hard. Kids don’t appreciate your efforts. They’ll probably kick your pumpkins before they leave.

If you answered mostly B, you’ve put the holiday in perspective, but kids will still kick your pumpkins, and probably steal your Halloween lawn ornaments.

If you answered mostly C, you are most likely male and didn’t even realize it was Halloween until strange children in costumes knocked on your door, begging for food. Your car will definitely get egged.

If you answered mostly D, you are obviously a health nut, and need to be slapped. Not only will children avoid your home, they will place warning sides on your fence letting the neighborhood know it’s not worth coming to your home. And they’ll kidnap your cat.

fun size

When it comes to Halloween candy, there really are no wrong answers. If you drop in it my bag, I’ll most likely eat it. And I won’t kick your pumpkins, either.

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Top 5 Fashion Trends I’ll Never Wear

Each year I pick up magazines showing the “must have fashions”. This year’s fall season’s Games of Thrones-inspired clothing lines include flowing cloaks, fur-lined jackets and bloody swords. (Disclaimer: I was wearing a vest with a fur-lined collar and Ringo the Dog sat next to me, judging me, and saying, “Hey, Cruella. You gonna skin me, too? You gonna make some mittens out of my fur?”)

Super models walk down the runway in everything from cellophane to jellyfish tentacles, and still look flawless and beautiful. They can wear any fashion trend and not look stupid. Unlike the rest of us. Here are several fashion trends I will NOT be donning this year:

1. Uber-Layers–Start with a pair of leggings. Add a tank top, a button-down shirt, a cable-knit sweater, a cardigan, a military jacket and a scarf, and you have a chic, warm look for any occasion. Right? Wrong. If I wore that many layers, I’d have to turn sideways to walk through doorways, and I wouldn’t be able to lower my arms all day.


(Stylishly on my way to work.)

2. Fall Florals–These delicately-detailed  daisies are designed to defrost the dark days of December. However, when I wear garb with garishly graphic garden geraniums, I more closely resemble a gargoylish gridlock of gloomy grandma.

3. Color Blocking–Bold colors! Geometric shapes! Waist whittling! Shape enhancing! You be the judge.

color blocking

(Left: Elegant super model in a color-blocked dress. Right: Me, in a color-blocked dress.)

4. Statement Eyes–I’ve been making statements with my eyes for years. My eyes can say, “You’re kidding, right?” or “You’d better run. Fast.” or “I’m so very tired.” or “You’d better feed me before I eat your ear lobes.” But today, “statement eyes” means bright, daring and confident. Using adventurous color schemes, glitter, jewels, false eyelashes and jeweled false eyelashes, young women are wearing eye-opening make-up to create their looks.

 eyes(It’s also handy to have an emergency eye-wash station nearby.)

 5. Capes–Thirty years ago, I would have loved to walk through town wearing a fur-lined, velvet cape. Now, I’d be suspected of witchery, and thrown into someone’s dungeon for trial. Only very self-assured young women (or Stevie Nicks) can pull off the cape trend, which hopefully ends before spring.


(On second thought, there are some people who could use a good cursing. Maybe I’ll stop in at Halloween City and pick up the latest fashion trend.)


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Ringo’s Healthy-Living Advice

Ringo the Dog has weighed exactly 84.9 pounds for the last three years. Luckily, he’s a border collie/lab and not a Chihuahua, or he’d be an incredibly huge mutant.

I could learn a lot from Ringo about creating a healthy lifestyle–if I cared to do that sort of thing. When he and I were discussing the subject, here’s what I learned about incorporating heart-smart habits into my lazy life:

  • Eat treats one at a time. Ringo gets a couple of tasty biscuits, flavored with things dog love most–like peed-on tree stumps and dog crotch. But he’ll take one snack to his special treat-eating space on the carpet, and enjoy every single bite. I, on the other hand, eat treats by the bowlful without the use of my hands.


(I will die face-down in a pie tin. And I’m okay with that.)

  • Get regular exercise. Ringo takes two walks every day. That means I take two walks every day. Occasionally, I’ll change things up and we’ll try “jogging” for a few blocks. The problem is, I jog so slow there’s time for him to sniff a few plants, pee on a couple of shrubs and chase several gophers, all without falling behind me. But he keeps me moving.
  • Only eat when you’re hungry. If Ringo’s not hungry, he won’t eat. Sometimes his breakfast becomes his dinner since he’s had no desire to eat.  I eat until I start leaking French fries. And then I keep eating. (And I wasn’t even eating French fries.) But there are also those times he sits with his nose in  my lap while I’m eating chocolate, pizza, (anything, really) as he waits for crumbs to drop onto his lolling tongue. So I guess it’s okay to splurge once in a while.
  • Get lots of sleep. Napping is Ringo’s second-favorite thing. (His favorite thing is attacking/molesting my daughters when they come to visit.) When he’s tired, he’ll plop down and sleep. On any surface, in any location, in any position. He doesn’t feel guilty, make excuses or try to pretend he wasn’t sleeping. He embraces his naptime.


(Sound asleep. And snoring.)

  • Let off some steam. Sometimes you just need to bark at the neighbors. Or frantically dig holes in the backyard. Or run through the doggie door at high speeds. Or dance around the kitchen while waiting for your walk. Those are much healthier choices than eating a gallon-sized bucket of cheesecake bites or bitch-slapping the stranger in front of you at Walmart.

If I can incorporate even ONE of these healthy-living tips, I will be on my way to a happier, stress-free life. Time for a nap.

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Picture Day: Where Dysfunctional Thinking Begins

School children across the country endured a Picture Day this month. No problem for boys. They throw on their least smelly shirt, run a mousse-covered comb through their hair and walk in the rain to school.

Girls spend most of the month agonizing about this one day each year when their looks will be documented for the laughter of posterity for centuries. I dreaded Picture Day like a math test. Each year I hoped my youthful face would bring modeling agents flocking to my door. Not so. Every year there was a lack of agents or flocking on my porch step.

I’ve learned it’s not that I’m not photogenic, it’s just my face is really stupid looking. Let’s travel back in time to first grade, when there was still hope for my photographic future.

1st grade

Notice  the obvious lack of front teeth. Well, my dentist felt my teeth were being lazy, taking too long to grow in. So he devised a tortuous plan to slit my gums, attach a chain to my teeth and pull them down with the help of a pair of oxen. You think I’m joking.

The result created my second grade photo (below) and a fear of all things dentisty. If you can’t tell, I’m the one on the left.

Big Teeth

Let’s jump ahead to fourth grade where, not only did I have to contend with front teeth the size of 2x4s, but with glasses as well. And the homemade, avocado green, polyester jumpsuit.

4th Grade

In fifth grade, I decided to drastically change my look. I thought I could get the attention of my next-door-neighbor Coleman if I looked identical to his celebrity crush Farrah Fawcett. I’m pretty sure I nailed it. (Again. I’m the one on the left. Uncanny, I know.)


Things only spiraled downhill from there. By eighth grade, my Farrah hair was in full bloom, in what I hoped would prove a distraction to the hideous silver braces I wore to fix my front teeth that my dentist ruined in the first place.

8th grade

I’ve avoided all things photographic ever since. My husband never understands why I run from cameras and group photos. Maybe he gets it now.


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Things Driving Me Crazy Today

Didn’t we just survive Tuesday one week ago? It’s back already?

There are only two ways to keep it together on Tuesday: 1) Go back to bed, or 2) hear me whine about what’s driving me crazy today.

  • Standing in line at Café Rio, silently practicing my order.
  • When the dishwasher breaks and I think, that’s okay, washing dishes by hand is therapeutic. But two days later I’m just throwing plates and shit away because I hate washing dishes.
  • 3 a.m.
  • When my zipper comes unzipped at the bottom.


(You had one thing to do, zipper.)

  • Running up the basement stairs so the monsters don’t get me. Still.
  • Repeating a favorite song so many times that I start hating it.
  • Not having time for a much-needed mental breakdown.
  • Trying to pry apart an English muffin without smashing half of it.  You couldn’t cut this thing all the way through?


(Damn, English sense of humor.)

  • Knowing that explaining something really slowly to stupid people doesn’t make them understand it any better.
  • Wishing the bottle of body wash would run out so I can use a new fragrance.
  • Having music shame. Definition: Rocking out to Iggy Azalea at the gym. When someone asks what I’m listening to, I say Adele.
  • Never finding my name on the personalized Coke bottles.


(I’m always just the friend.)

  • Not knowing if I pulled a chest muscle, or if I’m experiencing heart failure.
  • Never being quite sure what to do with my hands if someone’s talking to me while I’m standing up.
  • Avocados.

There. Now you can go back to bed!

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Concert Stage Fright

I was a teenage mom, so I spent my high school years changing diapers and watching Sesame Street. As a result, I missed the whole “going to a concert” event that, I guess, is some rite of passage into adulthood. During these concerts, certain behaviors are taught that I never had the chance to learn.


(I might not have been cool, but I did know my ABCs.)

Now that I’m much older, those rock bands from my youth are touring again. Journey (to the rest home), Styx (slowly traveling to the underworld), Kiss (your youth good-bye) and (rusty) Metallica are all making their comebacks–and by “comebacks” I mean performing in concerts sponsored by Viagra.

I’ve had the chance to attend a couple of concerts, but because I never learned those concert behaviors, I feel out of sync with the rest of the crazed (and grayed) attendees. Granted, Richard Marx and Kenny Loggins aren’t exactly the type of rock star where I can throw my underwear on stage (because my granny panties would smother any person they landed on) but I can still rock with the best of them, as long as I take ibuprofen two hours before the event.


(Kenny Loggins concert. After a certain age, everything is a Danger Zone.)

So maybe you experienced concert goers can give me some answers to the following questions:

1. When it comes to clapping along to the beat, how long do I clap, and how do I gracefully stop clapping after I realize I’m the only one still clapping? Do I clap for the entire song? Just for the chorus? Or should I sit with my arms crossed and watch in disdain as others clap?

2. What’s the purpose for the encore? How arrogant do you have to be to run off the stage and wait for thunderous applause before finishing your concert? We  know you’re going to do more songs. You’re wasting our time.

3. Why do musicians take a perfectly good 4-minute song, and turn it into a 15-minute remix,  complete with extended guitar riffs, never-ending chorus repeats and breaks for applause? I get it. Footloose was your crowning glory, but c’mon–I can barely tolerate the original length–don’t torture me with the uncut version.

4. What is the point of seeing rock stars “up close and personal” when I’m too far away to see anything. For all I know, I just paid $60 to watch an impersonator doing a 45-minute show.

5. Why should I pay for tickets when, for the cost of admission, I could buy the musician’s complete album collection, and listen to the songs more than once? A free iTunes album download should come with each ticket purchase.

I guess I missed the boat when it comes to age-appropriate concert revelry. But it’s okay. I heard Herman’s Hermits is touring, and they’re just grateful people show up.

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It’s. Still. Summer.

There are people out there (yes, I’m talking to you), who love to discuss the waning days of summer; who anticipate the slow dimming of the sun as society returns to a state of hibernation. To these people, I say, “Shut the hell up.”

The only thing that gets me through stupid Utah winters, is the idea of summer. In January, I’m already counting the days until I can pack up my heavy sweaters and run around barefoot in the grass. I’m like the Olaf of Salt Lake.


(I’m totally cool with summer.)

But YOU. YOU can’t stop talking about pumpkin spice candles, pumpkin spice lattes, pumpkin spice lotions, pumpkin spice spice or any other fall squash-related products. Here’s a clue–IT’S NOT FALL YET!!!! Give me just a few more weeks of watching summer sunsets, wearing shorts instead of parkas, being eaten by mosquitos while I munch on gooey s’mores and walking Ringo without having to wear LAYERS.

Plus, it was so dismally rainy here in August that I’m pretty sure we should get a do-over for the past month.


(In the house. In the rain. In August.)

I’m working with local legislators to create a law banning NFL and high school football Facebook posts, discussions or games until after Sept. 22. As part of this law, it will be punishable to sell fall-related foods, clothing or craft items until the first day of autumn. (Hey, it makes as much sense as the majority of Utah’s laws.) There will be no Halloween costumes. No candy corn. No scarecrows decorations. No delightfully arranged fall centerpieces. NOTHING until summer is officially over.

Give me time to mourn the waning of warmth without your insane anticipation for the fall season.


(My daughter and grandson enjoy summer, too.)

My mind is simple. I enjoy simple things. A fresh peach, a handful of raspberries, a BLT with real tomatoes (not grocery stores knock-offs), the sun on my face–even a few more freckles on my shoulders. On the first day of fall, I will wake up with a deep sadness, but will look forward to autumnal traditions, including enjoying the beauty of the season.

But until then, I will rage against the dying of the light!

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