Today is Halloween. For the past few years, I have waited with breath bated for the arrival of my favorite holiday. The weeks leading up to All Hallows Eve are a flurry of visits to fabric stores, thrift shops, makeup counters, and costume shops. Multiple costume ideas are considered and discarded. The final ensemble is honed through several consultations with my friends. Then the parties begin and it's nonstop for a week. The first night it takes us all hours to get ready, but by Halloween proper blending four lipsticks to create the perfect shade of red takes only a few seconds and the perfect hair is only minutes away. And for those few days everything is perfect--I'm young and fun and beautiful and my only worry is dancing in four inch heels. (Which, quite frankly, isn't very much of a worry: I rock four inch heels.)
Last year I had two costumes--Catwoman and Josie of Pussycat fame. This year I have none. I vaguely considered going as a librarian or Charlie Chaplin, but then the question followed, go where? And with whom? This year, I'm lost and rudderless and far from the friends I love to share this day with. So, I'm at home in cargo pants and a tshirt, writing a blog entry no one will read and waiting for trick or treaters to lay claim to the bowl of candy my mom left. But next year... next year I'm a fireman.
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