Please excuse the digression from the usual theme as I air my thoughts on Halloween.
A couple of years ago, during the transitional time between college graduation and full-fledged 9 to 5 adulthood, my sister went through a behavioral period which my family dubbed The Dark Years. The kitchen floor meltdowns and binge TV watching that constituted The Dark Years make for a lot of retroactively funny material, one being the time that my sister tried to cancel Christmas. She declared it at at dinner one night and refused to decorate the Christmas tree the next day.
As I stepped into my apartment building's elevator this morning on my way to work, I looked at the mistakingly conjunctioned "Trick and Treating" sign-up sheet and thought to myself: "Oh my god, Halloween 2k13 is [my sister's] Christmas 2008. I want to cancel it."
I had a feeling this would happen a couple of weeks ago when one of my friends asked me what I was planning on dressing up as this year. A normal question for the latter days of October, especially because I had told the same friend about my 2012 costume nine months in advance, on the day that Whitney Houston died. (I was three nights of Whitney Houston, one decade per night, since there are three nights of Halloween in #college.) The hype that I built surrounding my 2k12 costume merited an inquiry into the state of my 2k13 costume, but I didn't have anything to tell her this time around. My office isn't dressing up, I'm not going to any Halloween parties, and no, I'm not participating in the Greenwich Village Halloween parade.
My lack of costume isn't the only reason that I'm canceling Halloween. Reason number two is the general absence of free candy. The only time I came across candy today was during my lunchtime jaunt to Duane Reade, where I saw a pile of Jolly Ranchers and Tootsie Rolls sitting next to a display case of Essie nailpolish. I wasn't sure if the candy was free, and I didn't see any similar piles anywhere else in the store.
The third reason, which I alluded to earlier, is that there is a trick or treating sign-up sheet in my apartment building. I guess it makes sense that apartment units should choose whether or not they want sugar-rushed kids banging on their doors in pursuit of king size candy bars, but I grew up in suburbia where any house was fair game.
So: no costume + no free candy + no trick or treaters = no Halloween.
Amirite?
No poorly pixeled pictures today as I'm working on the mother of all collages.
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