What October 26-27th Means To Me: Ugh. Halloween.

When you're ten, nothing is cooler than Halloween.  After all, you get to walk around the neighborhood and people willingly give you free candy.  You get to dress up in something silly, its festive, its one of those "all bets are off" holidays.  I remember my buddy Clinton and I used to spend all day and night out on the streets filling up our pillowcases full of candy, we knew exactly which houses would give out the full size candy bars and which would be more likely to give away peanuts, pennies, raisins or something incredibly lame like that (were these people never kids?). How about the people who just left the "take one" bowl?  Fuck those people. Those people suck. Aren't they aware it's Halloween? Are they too fucking lazy to answer the door for an excited kid?  Do they actually think people would take one?  We'd often just take the empty bowl because, after all, it did say "take one" on it.  My hometown was also a sleepy suburb that was basically as old as America.  There was something that felt right about Halloween taking place there.  Leaves were on the ground, it was strangely quiet, but also somewhat spooky. Most families respected the festive nature and dressed their houses in appropriate oranges and blacks.  It was rare to find a house without a jack-o-lantern on the doorstep.  In a word, it was "good."

I was that couch potato one year when I was seven or eight

The magic of Halloween doesn't really change when you're older.  It's still a time to dress up, but instead of walking around begging for candy, you attend some lavish party where all the girls dress as whores.  Sounds amazing, right?

Then why the fuck do I hate Halloween?

No, seriously, I've come to dread it.  If they made a pill that would put me to sleep for Halloween weekend, I'd take it every year.  Wanna know my favorite recent Halloween?  2009.  Why?  Because I was home in bed with the flu. Excuse not to go out=SOLID.  Listen, I like a party as much as the next guy, I mean, who doesn't love looking at a slutty toaster*? I don't mind going out, but there is something about holidays with social expectations that I cannot stand. (*By the way, every conversation with a girl about their Halloween costume goes something like this.  Brett:  "So, Rhonda, what are you being for Halloween?"  Rhonda: "A roll of tape!  Well, a slutty roll of tape (tee hee)" 

Perhaps I'm vain, maybe I care too much about what others think of me, but the idea of not going to a party on either Halloween or New Years makes me feel like a huge loser.  And I hate feeling that way because I'm fully aware I'd probably have a better time sitting home watching movies than going out all night in a costume I paid too much money for.  Also, like last year, I stupidly chose a costume that involved a sleeveless shirt, leaving me ice cold for both parties I decided to go to.  You know whats not fun?  Trying to find a cab in the Hollywood Hills when its about 50 degrees and I'm not wearing much.  Nipples=arrows. 

So, this year, I purposely did not buy a costume.  That's right, I'm skipping Halloween.  I'm gonna find something else to do.  Unless, well, someone invites me to a "cool" party, in which case I'm sure I'll create a quick makeshift costume, feel like less of a loser, check my phone until its time to go home, and proceed in self-hate for the entire evening. 

Sometimes social expectations just fucking blow.