It was about 15 minutes ago ago that I realized Halloween is this Friday. This time every year in the past I was already harassing Joey. I would have already conceived some ingeniously clever costume that nobody else was going to have. I was never a ghost. I was never a witch. I was never that kid who "dressed up" as a kid. My costumes were always the best, I loved Halloween. With the anticipation of smelling the crisp Connecticut air all night long, while walking around the neighborhood getting candy from neighbors and walking around with the same group as I had since the age of about 6, what wasn't there to look forward to? Halloween to me has a feel. It's the air that if inhaled too quickly fills up your lungs and makes your nostrils burn. It's the faint smell of chocolate, dead leaves, and that strong, indescribable smell of "fall." It's the sound of the once beautiful leaves, now dead, crunching beneath your shoes. It's all of these things, combined with the distant shrieks of frightened children and the incessant laughter from my friends.
But this Halloween is going to be different. I won't be told 239 times by my mother to "LAYER LAYER LAYER" before I leave the house. I won't make the familiar walk to Joey's house to get excessive handfuls of candy from Mrs. Greenspun when I go to pick up Joey and Kevin. I won't mock the two of them for their overall lack of creativity and effort that they put into their costume. I won't wander my familiar neighborhood, knowing which house gives out the big candy bars, which house leaves a bucket that almost mockingly says "take one,"which house has a person hiding in the leaves, and which houses still creeps me out as much as it did when I was seven. Now, it's college; this is it--I've been told it's the ULTIMATE Halloween. If by ultimate they mean...completely and totally different than anything I've ever experienced or wanted to experience before in my life, then yes...it shall be the ULTIMATE Halloween.
I feel like I should have known Halloween was so soon. I feel like I should be excited for the insanity which is sure to ensue. I feel like I shouldn't fear the embarrassingly drunk girls dressed up as "nurses" and "fairies." Maybe that's where I differ, where I've always differed. Girls annoy me. The girl who is ditzy, the girl who drinks more than a 200 pound man should, the girl who can hide lipstick in her boobs because they're pushed up so closely together, the girl who wears heels that are likely more of a weapon than most switch knives...that girl makes me hate girls. Granted, I vastly exaggerate to prove a not so apparent nor relevant point, but I've never been that girl. I'm not the girl who makes guys heads turn, or eyes ogle. I'm the friend. I've always been the friend. I remember in third grade, a group of girls was freaking out at the lunch table because everybody thought this one boy was SO. CUTE. OH my gosh. I eventually went to leave the lunch table and tell the boy. Why? Because it was really damn fun. Leaving much of Mrs. Galatioto's class on the verge of tears, I went outside to sit. I distinctly remember leaning against the cool brick wall, pressing my ponytail and overalls as hard as I could against the wall. I found it all really funny because I didn't care. I didn't get it, and frankly, it was really fun to mess with them. Now eventually, I'm sure that the group of girls got over the lanky boy with the cowlick, but in third grade he was who they were in looooove with. Dressing their notebooks and Lisa Frank folders with various sized hearts with his initials in it, I dressed my own in elaborate doodles and logos of my favorite bands. It's not that I didn't get crushes on boys, it's just that I didn't see the big deal in fawning over a boy...seemed like a lot of unnecessary effort. For as long as I can remember, I've had a best friend who's a boy; I've just always had boys as friends. Now in college, I once again have found most of my friends are male.
But how's this all relate to me not being excited for Halloween? Not really sure. Not even really sure why I started this whole thing. Main reasons most likely being the fact that I enjoy procrastinating, I have an Italian midterm tomorrow and Abby left me to go be productive...
I also miss my stupid Trident column. Yes, I'm well-aware that very few people read it (okay, just the ones I forced to) and I was assigned it monthly to fill space, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. It gave me a place in which to say what I'm feeling, in which to voice my opinion, in which to...well...bitch. So here it is, the moral of the story. Halloween won't be the same, but that doesn't mean it won't be fun. Chances are, few will appreciate how clever my costume is likely to be. Chances are I'll end up ignoring the memo that says 'Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it'...because I'll say something about it. Chances are, this is going to be a Halloween to remember, regardless of whether or not I get to joke with Joey about his slidey clown shoes, or whether or not nobody mocks me for "The Hot Cocoa Incident of 2003." And as I tip back my wine glass and get the last drop of water, I realize that I can't change all at once. I'm not suddenly going to be a growed up, and I can't force it. Just because I'm not making poor decisions, hooking up with random boys and drinking myself into a coma doesn't mean I'm not 'living it up' in college. Most likely? It means that I'm just vastly superior to the average college student...more mature and whatnot. You know what they say...
People are stupid.
Adapt.
