Lex and Halloween don’t mix. I’m aware that is a bold statement to make about an innocent day out of the year—so let me explain. From the time I was a little girl, I could not have cared less about the over-commercialized holiday. My mom would always purchase such extravagant costumes—something I never understood. I would wear it to school for one day and two hours tops that night while begging for candy from strangers. I have never been to a haunted house, nor do I have any desire to visit one. I just don’t see the point. How is fear fun? Fun is spending time with friends or family…or shopping. Being chased around by individuals dressed up in hideous attire with red goo splattered all over them is just not my thing. I’ve never watched a scary movie either, unless you count the Paranormal Activity series, which I personally do not, because they just remind me of documentaries I would see on the Discovery Channel. I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet—my luck on Halloween is atrocious. When I was in the third grade, I broke my leg on Halloween. You’re probably thinking, “How might a little eight year old break their leg on the precious holiday?” I was dressed in my costume at school as a flapper dancer from the 1920s—tap shoes and all. Of course, my best friend, Ethan, thought it would be hysterical to trip me. Oh, it was hysterical alright, because I was hysterical. He broke my leg. My parents rushed me to the hospital where they imprisoned me in a splint for the rest of the weekend until I could get an appointment to see the orthopedic doctor on Monday, since the tragic event occurred on a Friday afternoon. I had a really awesome neon green cast though; that was the only cool part of the experience. The next spurt of Halloween bad luck occurred five years later. I was in the eighth grade, which was when the Swine Flu epidemic was occurring. I remember the day like it was yesterday. The date was Saturday, Oct. 30 and the Pens were playing the Minnesota Wild at Mellon Arena. Crosby earned his third career hat trick and got into his second fight while playing in the NHL. I was screaming at the top of my lungs the entire game. After the game, I started feeling pretty sick. I figured it was due to my behavior during the game, so I just went to bed. I woke up the next morning and literally felt like death. I couldn’t talk, I could barely walk, and couldn’t hold anything down. My mom rushed me to the ER and they diagnosed me right on the spot with Swine Flu. On Halloween. How ironic. See what I mean? At least I have logical reasons for despising the holiday.