I’m getting into the Halloween spirit. I enjoyed the holiday as a kid but it wasn’t my absolute favorite; (I’m a foodie so like all the major Food Holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter). “But, Holly,” you say, “you get to dress up and get free candy! There’s nothing better than that! And Spooky and scary movies, who doesn’t love that?”
I can answer that for you, I don’t!
But I do enjoy the dress up bit. I would alternate between dressing up as a witch or a black cat. Actually, one year I dressed up as Holly, the Christmas Elf. It was inspired by the movie ELF and my name is Holly, so it was a no brainer. But I wrote my name on my costume and a neighborhood dad was with his kids and said, “Hi Holly.” I was like, “Dude, how do you know my name?” He looked at me and said, “It’s on your shirt.” I was confused, embarrassed and probably 13.
I LOVE halloween, and who doesn’t, really? As someone who has lived in 3 of the 6 New England states and considers themselves as a true blue New Englander, it feels like my duty to hold this, the hallowest of days, in high regard.
This time of year we see lots of Halloween articles, lots of “fall is the best!” articles, and while it is fun to regale in lists of “best pumpkin treats!”, this is not quite one of those articles. To be completely honest with you, dear reader, I’m here to brag, and tell you the tale of a moderately sized Catholic family that rocked a little town’s Halloween, year after year.
Episode original air date...TBD...come on universe we’re all waiting :p
Jimmy Fallon: Tonight’s guest is a newcomer but came on the scene in a whirlwind; she’s a writer and actor on her new Netflix show, “Carry On,” please welcome Holly Williams!
Holly Williams walks from behind the great curtain, the audience applauds wildly.
Holly waves to the audience and cameras.
…….. the most breathtaking place on the planet.
Still dark and very cool, sometimes cold.
Long straw-like grass biting at your legs.
New growth pinching your soles through the sand
Hearing the rhythm of nature’s sound -
But not seeing anything.
The smell is crisp and the air gently wisps your face.
Your feet sink slowly into the ground making your strides more deliberate, slow and deep.
Clutching your arms and rubbing them to keep warm while the breeze gets stronger.
Still very dark.
Nature’s sound is louder and bolder with each beat ascending as it concludes its motion.
Growing up, I always had a love of movies--mostly classic films. I remember distinctly watching TMC with my Nana on her long, floral, silky couch. It was so fancy; I felt like such a lady. We’d snuggle close while my mom was at work, or as I got older, after school. We’d fit so well.
Robert Osborne would introduce the film, the stars and director, and maybe give a story or piece of Hollywood Trivia. I collected all that knowledge I learned. I stored it all in my mind, ready to share that information with my mom and sister (or really anyone). I’d tell them stories I heard and facts about Loretta Young, Myrna Loy, Gary Cooper, and my favorite Audrey Hepburn.
It’s that time of year again, when students eagerly pick out backpacks, notebooks, crayons, and folders. (L.L.Bean, MEAD, Crayola--64 pack! And Lisa Frank...obviously).
A few weeks ago, a friend of mine ended up in the hospital. I went to visit him at one of the popular Boston hospitals, and I asked my fiancé, Jason, to accompany me. My sister, Holly, also came with us. I have been in somewhat of a ‘Nervous-Nelly’ funk with anything associated with Boston, including driving and visiting. I have too many memories and associations of Boston what I wish to keep in my past. I have avoided any and all situations of being in the city for nearly 3 years. So far, I was successful.
However, I am absolutely aware of how absurd and debilitating this has been for me in a social sense. I have been thinking and decided to make the slow and steady change to step out of my comfort zone, (baby steps of course): that cushiony, safe, and controlled environment that I worked so hard to maintain.
Alarm rings. Get up. Put contacts in. Brush teeth. Maybe some makeup (if time allows). Drive to work belting out my new and old song obsessions. “...we hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal, but when I meet Thomas Jefferson, I'm gonna compel him to include women in the sequel...WORK.” Currently, it's a Hamilton obsession. Drink smoothie when not belting out songs. Work with my wonderful kiddos until I hear “it's time for dismissal”. Go home. Eat dinner. Maybe workout. Sleep.
Before I started working, someone said I would live for the weekends. Plans established for the weekend with my boyfriend, family and friends made me get through my man-crush Mondays through throwback Thursday's.
I have a confession though.
I’m going to drop some knowledge on you: I’m a badass speech writer. Since I was a kid I would practice my Oscar acceptance speech. I’d add variation to it just to keep me on my toes: crying, laughter, telling stories from when I was a child (mind you, I’m still a child at the time) and thanking God and my Mom, “You’re sitting in the audience Mom, where are you?! Ahh I won, I made it!” That type of thing.
Since I was a young girl, my mother has been a breathing jar full of knowledge. I could tell her my predicament and as if were pulling the answer out of a jar, she’d suggest a remedy. Over the years I began to notice a pattern, and to this day, I get mildly sore when I realize my issue can be fixed with one of her 3 most common cures: