Halloweener

I may have the opportunity to go to a party the weekend of Halloween. I was kind of excited about a party, but then it occurred to me that most people would wear costumes. I don't wear costumes. A couple weeks ago a friend of mine asked me what I was going to be for Halloween. I looked at her, perplexed. She said Halloween is so fun and last year she was an owl. I said I don't wear costumes. She asked why. Another friend this week also asked the same question when it came up again, because apparently everyone is obsessed with Halloween costumes, more even than Gary in third grade who planned his out beginning on Arbor Day. She said it's fun to dress up, be someone else for a day. I said that I'm still the same person even if I'm wearing a costume. She said I'm kind of not getting it. Then she asked if I've ever seen the show Bones. 


Anyway, the prospect of going to a Halloween party got me thinking about costumes. Because I like the idea of thinking of them, just not wearing them. So my first idea was to be coral, extruding its guts. I love coral, and definitely respect an organism that launches its intestines outside of itself to digest things in its path. That would be a really good costume. According to my party escort, though, it is a dorky idea. Also according to him, women generally use Halloween as an excuse to toss the conventions of wardrobe modesty aside. So I guess slutty coral would be better.

So when that was shot down, I went back to the drawing board (in my mind, I didn't really draw anything). My next idea was more awesome. I'd be a person, with maybe a few more people attached to me (fake ones), all of them missing limbs or having bite marks in them. I'd be the Donner Party. This idea gave me an entire day of laughing randomly. Hilarious, if you ask me. Once again my buzzkill party escort said that was dorky in the extreme, and possibly obscure to the point of weird as well. And it might be hard to skank that one up, I mean pioneers were traditionally not very leg or cleavage baring. I'm picturing Ma Ingalls, calico gown resewn into a low cut, super short dress, sauntering sexily past Mr. Edwards who then gets punched in the throat by an irate and horny Pa. Slutty pioneer cannibal may not be a great costume after all.

In the end I will probably continue to adhere to my no costumes policy. I would feel like a douche muffin dressed up as someone else, especially slutty someone else. So I'll take the kids out in the neighborhood, have them hop from door to door gathering enough candy to bail out an entire bus full of hypoglycemics, and admire every one else's creativity. While looking exactly like me.