Every year around this time, I mention it again, but it makes me happy–my mother always said that I should have been born on Halloween. It may have started because I was a weird little kid, but I know she meant it when I became a surly goth teenager, taking up residence in the basement and wearing only black. Halloween has always felt like it belongs to me, and not just because it is my birthday eve, but because it is my favorite holiday because it is the best of holidays.
You cannot argue with me. It has got candy, and dressing up, and sparkly things, and hilarious puns, and spooky things, and candy, and wigs, and tall shoes, and shiny things, and vampires and candy and zombies and sexiness and more sparkliness and funny hats and candy and masks and brocade and face paint and additionally, candy. In fun sizes. Candy is fun in all of its sizes, but it is the most fun when it is fun-sized. And so, Halloween wins as the greatest holiday of all of them, up to and including the ones at which you get food and/or presents. Because you get food AS presents. And that food? Is candy!
The candy is probably my favorite part, but the dressing up is a close
second, coming up from behind and finishing neck-and-neck with candy,
even the fun-sized candies. I spend a long time thinking about what I
want to be, and I start way back in July, and I have a new idea every 30 seconds, and then I daydream for many months about how it will
be SO AWESOME when I am finally [insert costume here]. Sometimes it
works out! Sometimes it works out less well. But whatever I end up
going as, I end up happy.
A few years ago, I was an evil mad scientist, and the blood that
dripped from my hairline, down my face (terrible explosion in the lab)
startled a tattoo artist at a Halloween tattoo convention and made him
ask me if I was okay. Then I was a devil in a blue dress, and the
picture from that night, me very red-headed and Weetabix in her awesome
Hello Kitty costume, remains one of my favorites of all of time. Last
year I was a pirate in a long red velvet coat and excellent hat. As
some have remarked in passing, I looked a little more like a
Revolutionary Gentleman than a pirate, but that is only because I did
not have time to get an eyepatch and sword. But that was a good night
and I was the best Buccaneer American I could be. This year, as noted
elsewhere, the Ewok thing fell through, and that was very sad.
Your ideas? Were the awesomest. But because of lack of access to much
shopping and little time, I ended up combing through my closet, finding
my excellently hideous 1970s fuschia polyester dress with the
magnificent neck ruffle, realized I also own a pair of Studio 54 heels,
and came to the conclusion that I would go as a disco queen. I
purchased a curling iron and body glitter at Rite Aid yesterday afternoon,
and I’ve got the blue eyeshadow and sparkly pink lipstick already. I
may pick up a gold scarf to tie up in a jaunty way around my neck, and
I will be so set to be an ABBA song come to life. E will be wearing a
plush lobster on his head; in this scenario, everyone wins.
We are going to go to a haunted house, and then head back to watch
scary movies and give out candy to small children (read: watch scary
movies and eat a lot of candy). We may get dragged to a party, or we
may spend the night on the couch with my face buried in his arm because
I am very afraid of zombies and he is making me watch 28 Days Later anyway.
Either way, it will be an excellent Halloween, the way it is every
year, or maybe even better.