Why Halloween restores my faith in humanity
On Halloween night, I paraded around downtown Gainesville in search of a place to dance with my friends.
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On Halloween night, I paraded around downtown Gainesville in search of a place to dance with my friends.
It was a typical night for the Moure family the night I received my acceptance into the University of Florida. We sat in one of our favorite restaurants, Dunkin Donuts, chatting over some fine iced coffees and vanilla kremes, trying to ignore the idea that admission decisions were lurking. Both patiently waited for the time to roll around.
Guys it’s going down. Cue the wolf howls, ghosts, zombies, thunder, pumpkins, witches, skeletons and the divine distribution of candy.
I've been a klutz ever since I started wobbling around on my own two feet as a toddler. My dad always had to warn me, “Caterine, watch where you’re going!” I was the typical toddler distracted by anything that moved, made sound or sparkled.
It’s a recurring experience: uncomfortably avoiding the people that flier in Turlington. As you stroll on by, these people usually wear blank looks on their faces that scream “please, just take it” as they eagerly shoot their arm out, flier in hand. Or you may be lucky to encounter the person over-enthusiastically handing out fliers, the one who stops you to chit chat in regards to their event/party/meeting/idea/concert/candidate/free food/club/special. These people give 110 percent.
Have a big test tomorrow? Partying tonight anyway?