Ghosts of Halloweens Passed

WTF, I hate how the damn cursor on this laptop occasionally becomes possessed and takes it upon itself to suddenly scroll all the way down the screen. Or else is mysteriously clicks on the wrong shortcut link in the search and then takes forever before I can change it to the right one. Ugh.

Anyway, enough of that blathering. My nose is drippy, my throat is dry and coughy, and I'm carefully dangling my feet away from the (still) wet urine spot from Georgia's newest accident on the rug, so I'm gonna try to keep this one brief.

My sweet and loyal cousin reminded me that telling stories about our family would sustain this blog for years, so since I hadn't any other ideas in mind for tonight, I'll go for one of those. And since it is almost Halloween, I thought I'd offer some of my favorite Halloween memories from my youth.

Despite the fact that I'm a total wuss when it comes to scary things, I actually really love Halloween. It's the holiday that holds some of my favorite childhood moments. Ones that still brings a smile to my face are the choices of costume I made every year. Thanks to my mom's genius behind a sewing machine, alot of my costumes were homemade, and we aren't just talking witches and ghosts. The most interesting costume she ever made was a large shiny red Coke can costume which my sisters and I all took turns wearing at one point or another. Why someone wanted to be a Coke can, I have no idea, but it made for some interesting pictures (and guessing games as to what we were). My favorite costume, however, was my very dapper, very cheerful, very hot-pink, flamingo costume. No, not flamenco...flamingo. I had a faze where I was obsessed with these birds. So much so, apparently, that I had to be one. Any psychiatry fans wanna take a crack at that one?

The other great thing about Halloween for me was the tradition in all of it. Every year, from kindergarten to 8th grade, our elementary school would close classes early, gather together by grade, and then march around our town. Now, I come from a pretty tiny town so it wasn't a huge deal. But it was still pretty exciting to us; walking around main street with our parents and family members crowding the sidewalks waving their hands excitedly and waiting for the perfect shot with their cameras. We eventually walked all the way back to the school where all the students milled about excitedly as they announced the winners of the best costumes in each grade. Every year I felt my heart bob with a little hope that I might be called, but every year I was passed over. I mean, what were they thinking...I was a flamingo princess, people! Can't get more unique than that. It didn't matter because after that the trick-or-treating began.

My friends and I always knew which houses to hit and which to not bother. We had a strict curfew in town so it was like a limited candy-spree. We dodged to this house of that, sometimes splitting up to see which houses delivered what. The best trick-or-treat house was Mrs. Sague's. She was known to not only have name-brand stuff, but the actual regular sized. She was (or is, I guess) such a nice woman and I always got upset when I heard that some asses would egg her house or put toilet paper in her trees during mischief night. Some people are assholes even in youth.

Of course, once the timer had gone off (a.k.a. it was officially nighttime), we all went back to our respective houses. Now it became all business. For a few special years my sisters and I were all of the age of not just trick-or-treating, but trick-or-trading. As soon as we had all come home we'd go into one room pour out our loot, begin categorizing it in terms of value, and begin the trade-off. Wall Street has never seen such dedication and determination. I'm even fairly certain Beck had even come over once or twice for these candy transactions. And actually, it was with Beck that I had one of my favorite specific Halloween memories.

One year I had decided to visit my cousin in her town, which was right next to ours, to do some last-minute trick or treating there. I think it maybe was because they had an extra hour or something, but in any event I showed up at her house, along with a few of her schoolmates. We began seriously trying to get whatever last minute trick-or-treating we could done, but eventually we were all content with just walking around the dark town all by ourselves, chatting and feeling as if the night and town was for us. I don't remember how, but suddenly we all began singing Christmas carols. We must have been quite the sight; witches, pirates, or whatever else we were dressed as loudly singing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" in October.

I've had plenty more pleasant Halloween memories, one of which was when I met Joe. But since we have some time still till Halloween (and since this baby is getting lengthy), I'll leave you with those for now. Until tomorrow friends!