Friday, October 31, 2008

The Ghost of Halloweens Past

I figured I'd better get my slack butt in gear and write something, since I've gotten a bit lazy on the blogging since our Charlottesville trip. (We had an incredibly awesome time, by the way. More on that another day.) So, in honor of Halloween, here's a lovely little collection of tidbits about Halloween experiences in my past.

Halloween 1979:
My Mother snags the Raggedy Ann outfit off of my life-size doll and dresses me up, complete with giant lipstick-circle cheeks. I am terrified of Raggedy Ann with her fiery hair and souless black eyes. My Mother does not believe in trick-or-treating because she is convinced that bad people will put needles and razor blades in all the candy. I am allowed to trick-or-treat at one house, my Grandmama's, which is actually pretty okay because my Grandpa buys king-size chocolate bars to give to the kids. I have no idea why I am given candy or dressed like a giant doll because I am only two. I still have not recovered from my fear of Raggedy Ann.

Halloween 1984:
I want to be a Princess for Halloween. My Mother refuses to buy me a costume, and we have no appropriate princess gear. Mom takes an old white sheet and makes me a toga out of it, calls it a "Princess dress," and hands me a roll of aluminum foil and suggests I make a crown while she goes and locates Dad's old flannel shirt so that my brother can be a hobo. (Note that 4-year-old Zach had probably never even heard of a hobo at the time. Mom was a firm believer in costumes made of things you already had around the house. Until the Grandkids came along, and then nothing short of the Disney Store official issue costumes were good enough. No ghetto Halloweens for my kids.) The parents do not feel like driving us across town to trick-or-treat at Grandma's, so we are allowed only to go to the neighbors who live behind us and whom my parents know extremely well. They give us popcorn balls, cupcakes, and giant lollipops shaped like pumpkins. The follow us home. We give them Skittles.

Halloween 1996:
I dress up as a black cat to go to the block party with my LOSER boyfriend, who has dressed like a greaser from the '50s. He abandons me at said block party to sell weed to some teenage trick-or-treaters. Luckily, I run into people I know who agree to give me a ride home. I don't see LOSER boyfriend for a week, at which point I find out he thinks he has impregnanted one of my ex-best friends after failing the Air Force's drug test and running off to live in Florida.

Halloween 2001:
Halloween on Franklin Street in Chapel Hill. TOTAL MADNESS. At Ray's suggestion, I borrow her clothes and dress as a Dominatrix, complete with whip (you'd have to know Ray). Blaker borrows MY clothes, and goes as a Princess, complete with curly auburn wig. Rebecca wears her OWN clothes, including her red underwear on the outside of her costume, and goes as Super Ray. Unfortunately, Ray has to stay at Hinton James and do Resident Advisor duties, so Blaker and I, along with Madame Ovary (Robert) and his friend the pimp (Gil) go to Franklin Street without her. My whip is confiscated by the police. Princess refers to himself in third person all night. We meet someone named Twig whom, to this day, I want to kill with my bare hands. We drink a lot of beer and barely make it home. My whip is never recovered from the police.

Halloween 2007:
I host a Halloween brunch for the neighborhood kids. We eat monster toes and incredibly awesome cupcakes (thank you, Kara) with frosting ghosts on top. We watch It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. My children are Tinkerbelle and a Devil. I realize that I have forgotten to buy candy about ten minutes before the first trick-or-treater arrives. Kara saves the day with candy her sons collected at the previous Sunday's church "trunk or treat." She doesn't give out candy. Trick-or-treaters annoy her. I realize Mom has passed her candy paranoia along to me, so I only allow my children to trick-or-treat at two houses, both of which are occupied by people I have gotten to know well enough that they feel like family, which means they most likely are not razor-blading the candy they will give my kids. The two-house trick-or-treating expedition takes approximately 3 minutes. I spend the rest of the evening giving out candy to children I have never seen before, and wondering why their parents don't seem to be worried that I am secretly slipping lancets in the Snickers bars.

If I ever get re-motivated, stay tuned for news of Halloween 2008.

1 comment:

vanilla said...

There is not 2008 halloween news.