Halloweeny Time

                        

I went trick-or-treating with the kids around my old 'hood tonight.  It was kind of surreal.  I haven't walked around there in a very, very long time.  So weird to think that I spent the first 17 years of my life confined to those blocks.  The big Partition Street hill didn't seem nearly as big this evening.  I didn't get winded walking up it.  Flashbacks of past Halloween costumes came to me as I sat on the ledge in the kitchen where my now overgrown behind used to perch beautifully.  I've been Wednesday Adams, Cruella DeVille, a bag of money, a nun (as a baby - that was my first costume), an alien, Dorothy, the Pillsbury Dough Girl, a rainbow with a pot of gold... It was a nice feeling to walk around and not be terrified that someone was going to pelt me with an egg.  I guess some high school gang-like group used to haze its members and battle each other right along my trick-or-treating route.  Since I'm always the one to get hit in the head with stray basketballs and soccer balls and baseball bats, I always kind of feared for my life.

Never fell into that game where, as a rule, it seems that adolescent and 20-something girls take Halloween as an excuse to dress skankily.  Instead of striving for glances, I usually end up being something that I find super-ridiculous.  As a grown woman I've been a power ranger (wore the plus-sized kids costume), a spoon, The Snuggler, and Werewolf Bar-Mitzvah.  I may not have gotten any phone numbers, but I sure got some high fives of appreciation.  And that's way more meaningful.  Anyone can wear nothing and get stares, so who the hell really cares?  All hail the creative and the absurd!

I really like this time of year, but at the same time there's this weird kind of dark wistful feeling that comes with it.  After all the candy is eaten and you realize you're almost done with another year.  Things start to wind down, more layers are worn, the days all start late.  I can't really explain.  Walking around in the dark.  Wet leaves.  Holidays.  And then snow.  And then the thaw.  And then more snow.  The end of Holidays.  The clean-up.  Unpacking.  Overeating.  Over-heated offices.  Under-heated living rooms.  

Seasonal Affective Disorder happens for a reason.  I wonder how much poetry and music we'd be missing if it didn't exist.  Channel your inner darkness!  Maybe you'll win a Grammy!  Or be a poet laureate for some random small town!  You never know.

I'm crying.

Let Me Be a Girl for a Minute

I'm going to start a new genre of posts.  They will be called "Let Me Be a Girl For a Minute."

Sometimes I have to remind myself of this.  I'm not super "girly" in most ways.  I'm not one of those females that men flock to because of her feminine charm.  I don't wear high heels.  I don't wear much make-up.  I hate the word "bitch" and will refuse to call myself or any other female by it.  In fact, I hate when girls say, "Like, omg I know!  I'm such a bitch!" as if it's an admirable thing (although you menfolk tend to gravitate towards those females who do...maybe it's the same as girls being attracted to jerks and bad boys).  Anyways, despite all these superficial things, I am 100%, full-on, super mushy, sentimental girl species.  I just don't show it in the usual ways.  I show it by buying/making too-thoughtful of presents when it's not completely appropriate and crying while watching "The Holiday."  Stay tuned for more insight in my upcoming essay to be published in the Marco Polo Quarterly in November.

Anyway.

For my first installment of "Let Me Be a Girl for a Minute" I'd like to discuss my latest deepest, darkest girlish desire.

This time of year must be the most awesome time to have a mate.  It's pretty outside - until damp, muddy November - and then it gets better in December with the falling snow.  There's lots of fun autumny things to do like haunted hayrides and apple picking and driving around.  Whenever the holidays roll around things always get weird for me.  I'm used to being the baby in the family, up until my two adorable nieces came into the picture.  When you're no longer the youngest in your family, things shift. And it always seems like someone to snuggle with would fill that void.  Someone to buy awesome presents for, go ice skating, attend functions with, etc.

My main preoccupation lately is Halloween.  The day is rapidly approaching.  I will be spending my Halloween with the two chitlins and my sister.  Em and Mo will be dressed as Snow White and mini-Snow White, and my sister is going to be the Evil Queen.  At first I was going to be one of the seven dwarves, but SOMEONE decided it would be better if I were the apple.  An apple.  I'll do anything for those kids, so an apple it is!

The whole time, though, I'm thinking of perfect Halloween costumes for me and my potential partner.  Because all of you who read this know me, I probably don't have to explain my "type."  So I won't.
But, imagine this perfect costume: Beauty & the Beast.  Picture it.  Everyone knows I enjoy a good beard, imagine if I had whoever I was with just let it go cuhhhrazzzyyyyyy and then we got him that awesome royal blue jacket with the gold piping and I wore that yellow Belle dress.  It would be amazingggg!  And hilarious.  And adorable.  And and and and... I just imagine breaking out into song at a party: "...and when we touched she didn't shudder at my paw!"  No, I didn't!  I would never, Beast!

I find Beauty and the Beast so amusing because it is Stockholm's Syndrome glorified.  Identifying with your captor.  "Oh, you locked up my sick, old father and then kept me prisoner...but you're kinda being nice to me so...I'm going to fall in love with you so that I can more easily deal with this grim situation!"  It's ludicrous!  I blame Beauty and the Beast for my preference for hairy, dominating men, which started at a very young age (Vincent D'Onofrio, Alec Baldwin, Zach Galifianakis...would make WONDERFUL beasts and I'd pay any amount of money to see them as such).  Also, am I the only one who thinks when the Beast becomes human he's super unattractive and too delicate-looking?  That Beast was a handsome animal.

Another Disney-themed costume idea: Aladdin.  But I would make the man dress up in that white Sultan outfit with the floppy, puffy hat and the blue feather.  And those pants.  I'd do my best to pull off being Jasmine, no matter how pale I get.  If only so that I could finally have an excuse to sing "A Whole New World," which is in my head all of the time regardless of the season.

I hope you enjoyed this edition of "Let Me Be a Girl for a Minute."  I think my next normal post is going to be about the crazy Christian radio stations I've been listening to...