My month-long countdown has culminated in a successful (Twilight-ish) pumpkin, an abundance of consumed candy (ill and ashamed is how I feel about that...), and large amounts of bribery to anyone that will tell me their Halloween costume. I absolutely hate it when someone chooses a costume and then plays it off as a secret. I mean really...what is that? It's probably because I burst with excitement over a well-thought-out idea, so I just expect others to do the same. Either way, I have all but resorted to lying (little white ones!) and cheating to find out what my closest friends will be on this fateful Saturday night and I will say this - I’m not proud of my behavior. Which bring me to a very important life lesson that needs to be shared and it’s that sometimes in life you just have to do what you need to do to get your way...no matter what the cost.
So before I start sounding too much like Jon Gotti I will go ahead and apologize to those of you that have fallen victim to my attempts. Really, it’s nothing personal, merely a small and fatal flaw in my personality. The good news is that now that this has been addressed we can move on, dress up and make this a freaky deaky dutch to remember.
Robbie has planned an all-out bash for this year’s holiday and I couldn’t be more excited. I think that my love for dressing up is a deeply rooted in my arsenal of successful costume’s of my Halloween past. Of course there were the early years of the clown and the pumpkin where I was just too cute to be anything but a big round ball of orange felt with a green stem on my head. Every baby takes a turn as a pumpkin and I was no different. Because let’s face it, babies are little punkins....there’s just no way around it. My baby years were followed by the various stylings of the ladybug, the 50s girl, a black cat, Betty Rubble, and Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. I can’t remember now which was my standout favorite, but I do remember feeling like a million bucks in my ladybug costume, only to be told at the end of the night that I sure made a cute strawberry. Ugh, fail. There’s nothing worse than a mistaken identity on Halloween. That’s part of the fun – a perfectly executed idea that no one will miss.
One of my better years came when I was a sophomore in high school and was invited to a mandatory dress-up Halloween party of a new friend. My family had just moved and I was a newbie on the party circuit. She required that everyone come in their favorite duds and I was no exception. I knew I was going to be dropped off (no car yet! high school makes my heart hurt sometimes...) by myself so I wanted to be something that I could respect myself in if I wound by the punch bowl all alone and goofy at the end of the night. Anyway, my Mom and Sister helped me hatch the perfect outfit and in a matter of hours I was decked out in a make shift Catholic schoolgirl uniform, knee high socks, cat glasses, and headband. There I was, ready to be a star...a SUPERSTAR* that is. It was during the height of Molly Shannon’s reign on SNL and y’all, I.pulled.it.off. Hands under the armpits? Check. Sudden burst of “superstar!”? Check. It was my first taste of glory as an awkward teenager and it felt good. I think that was just the beginning of my theme party excitement, something that came in handy during the date party years of 2003-2007 - now those were the real deal.
Anyway, this year I have been on my idea A-game for Halloween and have had the pleasure of hearing about some seriously funny costumes. I can only hope that the execution is just as sweet as the idea but I guess I’ll have to wait until Saturday and judge for myself. Oh and, what’s my costume you ask? I guess you’ll just have to wait and see!
Until then, me and my dark chocolate will continue the countdown...
*I really wish I had a photo of this...it’s absurd.
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