Lana Maryé Morelli

I wish I could sit home with my dog curled up in my lap and get paid to write whatever brilliant thought creeps into my head.   However, this is not the case.   I write for myself, as it is my passion; however, I also write to make a living.   Part of that “living” is being the Delaware Valley Reporter for a legal magazine.   So, in my daily travels for my full-time job, I found myself in Norristown, a city I frequent three times a week.   I always try and park as close to the courthouse entrance as possible; in hopes of having a short walk, so I can view my cases, and hit the road home.   There are three spots next to the courthouse that I frequently park at.   They take quarters at the “old school” meters, not the credit card, app scanning types that litter the rest of the block.   These particular spots are not only adjacent to the courthouse, but also directly in front of a church, that doubles as a soup kitchen every weekday at noon. Usually, I am able to avoid the line

I always thought Halloween was a peculiar holiday. As a kid you dress up and go door to door, taking hand outs from strangers—something that certainly defies all “stranger danger” rules. Nevertheless, the distraction of sugary treats can be enough validation to forget how weird the concept really is. However, as an adult, I find Halloween even more mystifying. Not because of the creepy music or spooky undertones. I really just find it odd that people make such a fuss about dressing up. Spending exorbitant amounts of money perfecting a costume. Making sure everything   is “just right,” because “it’s only one day a year you get to dress up.” Or is it? Aren’t we all “dressing up” everyday as adults? Wearing our “costumes” to work and in our personal lives. People call it “changing hats” or a “different face.” Whatever the cliché, the truth is that we’re all acting a certain way for our certain role. Employee, Professional, Child, Parent, Student…the particular role dictat