Wednesday, October 31, 2012


I used to love Halloween.  When I was a teenager Halloween was a blast.  It was a dark, and sinister and an excellent excuse to wear fangs to school.  I actually managed to get fake vampire fangs into my yearbook picture.  What school plans picture day on Halloween?  Sounds like they should've expected some of the shenanigans that took place.

Now that I'm a mom, Halloween is a giant pain in the ass.  It was fun while the kid was little.  I'd buy some cute little costume and we'd go out for maybe an hour before she got too tired of walking around, then we would go home and I'd eat most of her candy.
She's 10 now.  The costumes are getting more and more involved.  We made this one.  She is an eagle.  To be fair, we actually made it last year, and she was a snowy owl.  This year we dyed it brown and she's an eagle.  This was her idea, I would've gotten her a new costume.

I also have to argue with the hubby about what the kid will be for Halloween.  She wants to be things like a Snowy Owl, a Hummingbird, a Gnome, the embodiment of peace and love itself.....fucking hippie.  He thinks she should be death, or a zombie, or something extra super scary that only his twisted brain can conceive.

 (I think she should be Pestilence Pony

This year we had a Halloween party.  My darling husband is all about Halloween.  His favorite movie of all time is Halloween.  He already owns most of the decorations required, including random body parts.  So we had to decorate. 

My idea of decorating is throwing up some orange lights, and maybe some window stickies (maybe).

This year, we went crazy.  I made (yes MADE) ghost lights.  I made hanging ghosts out of cheese cloth.  We made paper mâché pumpkins.  We put up spider garland.  We hung a dummy in the tree out front.  We put a bunch of grave stones in the yard.  There was more.  Lost more.

My daughter had fun though, so I guess that's the whole point.

So today is Halloween and I'm at costume.  I was supposed to be a vampire but the stupid teeth wouldn't stick.  So I'm just wearing a flowy, black satin and velvet gothic dress that has BIG bell sleeves.  I've owned this dress since I was 16, so I'm rather surprised that it fits at all.  It's tight in the arms though.  The sleeves bell out right at my elbows and that's where it's cutting off my fucking circulation.  It's so uncomfortable.  I feel like I have tourniquets on both of my arms.  Which gets me thinking about getting my blood drawn.  Which makes me queasy. (I'm a pussy about needles.  Which is completely ridiculous.  I have something like 13 piercings in my ears alone.)  I have never been so unhappy that I didn't bring a change of clothes as I am today.  The thought of walking into Walmart in this get-up and purchasing horrible pants just to be able to take this fucking thing off isn't pleasant.  Although perhaps I won't be mistaken for an employee in this outfit.  (I have been somehow mistaken for a Walmart employee on something like 10 separate occasions.  One time is was twice in one day.  And I wasn't even fucking wearing blue that day!!  Oh I think I'll have to write an entire post to explain).

As I walked into the store this morning to get a cup of coffee, some douche bag at the coffee counter says "So I guess you're dressed up."  Oh, you think so fucker?  I surely fucking hope so.  If I came in here, wearing this, on any day besides Halloween, I'd hope you'd call my therapist for me.  But as it is clearly Halloween, you are safe to assume I'm not just an angsty teenager that hates my parents and thinks black makes me look paler.  (I may have been at 16 when I bought the dress, but we're not talking about that now.)

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Shouldn't You Be Working by Bethany Davenport is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.