I love Halloween, and this is strange for a few reasons. For one, Halloween proceeds All Hallow’s Day on Nov 1st, a holy day of obligation on which I used to have to go to church when I was younger. For another, it’s the most flawless excuse of a day for people to act not only foolish but kind of destructive and disturbing. And I hate mischief when I’m not the one causing it.
What’s more, every year the holiday is, at the very least, not what I expect it to be. I don’t have plans this year because it seems that no matter what I decide I’m going to do, it always turns out wrong. This weekend I’m going to let fun find me (note: i’ll give nips as treats if you come hang out with me!) but right now, I thought it’d be fun to look back on some past Halloween fails.
1992 - I put together an adorable ballerina costume only to have it covered up by a bulky winter coat when it inexplicably blizzards on October 31st.
1993 - My Jasmine outfit (silky pj’s and pointy slippers) is outshone by all the other commercial Jasmine costumes that have fake exposed midriffs. My so-called kindergarten “Best Friend” actually makes fun of me. I cry.
1996 - My mother doesn’t know how to apply eyeliner or wigs, so me as Cleopatra turns out looking more like me as a transvestite. Meanwhile, my little brother and sister win a neighborhood costume contest, dressed as Harry Potter and Marilyn Monroe, respectively. I just stand by and watch.
1997 - My mom borrows a friend’s daughter’s old costume ( :[ ) so I can trick or treat as an Indian princess at the hospital where she works. I’m in 4th grade by this time, so I’m old enough to be mortified.
1998 - I go as a hippie, and an elderly neighbor refers to me as an Indian princess.
2001 - I don’t think I trick-or-treated this year, but the highlight is my 6th grade sister taking way-too-sexy pictures of her dressed as a witch in our living room. I guess she didn’t realize that if she took them on the family camera the whole family would see them once they were developed.
2006 - I’m a pirate. An elderly woman in Beacon Hill refers to me as a “sexy lady.” Please. Listen, grandma, if that’s a costume I wear it every day.
2007 - The night before Halloween, my suite receives one of the biggest alcohol violations Emerson College has ever seen. We aren’t really in such a party mood that night. Don’t get me wrong, we still get wasted (me as a Greek goddess).
2008 - I’m working at a flower shop at this point, so I spend my workday crafting a beautiful crown of flowers to wear as part of my fairy costume. The costume is great; unfortunately, my friend getting his teeth knocked out at a party in Allston is not.
2009 - Can-can dancer. Which I suppose was just an excuse to wear fishnets and way too much makeup. If not Halloween, when? (…never. The answer should have been never.)
With a track record like this, I sort of don’t even want to know what this year will bring. If my life were a reality show, this would be the cue for the “next time on…” to pop up with clips of outrageous happenings. But you know what? If by some chance I happen to be coherent this All Hallow’s Eve, I’ll get some of it on video. Film does way more justice than an unemployed writing major’s words.
Jessie and I have a brand new third roommate as of Sunday. His name is John Jacob and he’s a real pain in my ass already, for no other real reason except he’s a mouse, and rodents aren’t my favorite. Also he tried to eat my popcorn, and I was like, I’m pretty sure I labeled that with my name, you dick. Just watch, he probably won’t put the seat down either.
Today I was talking to my sister on the phone.
Claire: What’s new with you?
Me: Well -
Claire: Guess what I’m going as for Halloween?
Claire: My whole sorority is going as solo cups. There’s 12 of us.
Me: Hmm. Now I can guess how a normal person would make that costume, but how are you guys going to make it really slutty?
Claire: Right? We were worried about that too. We bought tiny red tube dresses and glued white felt to the top, and spray painted SOLO down the sides. And they look amazing.
Me: Yep. That’ll do it.
I look forward to early November, when I can begin work on my parents’ Christmas present: side by side framed photos of their two daughters - Claire as a slutty jungle juice holder, and me wearing a white sheet over my head with eye holes cut out.
I spent the better part of today trying to rearrange the furniture in my bedroom. Mostly because I didn’t have anything else to do, but also because I’m so sure there’s somehow I could make my space so it will better lend itself to my daily productivity and sanity. After four hours and countless scraping damage done to my floor, I still haven’t found it. What I need is a team of those men and ladies from all of HGTV and TLC to come and figure this out for me, using a budget of no more than $30. It sounds tricky, but it’s their damn job, and so I’d like to speak to someone about requesting this.
Also tricky (and by tricky I mean just foolish) is the fact that I continue to think home decor is truly responsible for my lack of energy and consistently cluttered brain. I would use my time to think up ways I can achieve immediate riches and fame, but it’s so hard when all I can consider is how much easier it would be if I had a desk (preferably from Pottery Barn) on which to do all this brainstorming.
No, it’s not an emo post! Just watching Spike TV and enjoying some memories: once, on a first date, I watched two hours of this disturbing show, trying not to puke up my lobster and mussels. Bizarre? Yes. But as they say, “it got me here…” didn’t it.