Nights of the Dead

Dear Diary,

I hate Nights of the Dead.

It's not the carnivals ripe with pockets for picking.
It's not the rampant use of masks and disguises, which make Briganding OH so EASY (especially when dressed as a Swash haha!)
It's certainly not the influx of vampires (oh Mayong!).
It's not all the marshmallows and chocolate (yum!).
It's not the ghosts and ghouls and goblins and zombies - though the ghouls and zombies leave my swords icky.
It's not the spiders or the snakes (ok, the snakes are not my favorite).
It's not the scary stories (LOVE the scary stories!).
It's not the haunted houses (wee! a thrill!).
It's not bobbing for frosted apples (trolls always win with their big mouths, though).


It's that *I* am often the source of the celebration.


Turns out I'm dead an awful lot.