Halloween

Happy Halloween. Wide awake. Can't sleep. Thinking about everything I haven't started and/or finished at the office, how little time there is to get it all done, and how much fun it would be to be young again, just for today.

I remember Halloweens from the 50s and 60s (I'm dating myself here). No fancy store-bought costumes. I'd pull on one of my dad's old shirts, smear my face with dirt or coal dust, and run through the neighborhood with a pillow case to carry home my treasures.

Without a doubt, Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I work for a company that turns Halloween into an excuse to kick back, decorate office spaces, dress in costume, and be entertained by the children and grandchildren of coworkers as they parade up and down the halls and “trick or treat” for candy.

Today would be the day I’d wear my pumpkin hair band to work. It’s great accessory, just a hair band with an orange pumpkin lid glued to the top, the kind of lid you’d leave yourself if you were carving a pumpkin, complete with the brown “stem.” It’s all made of soft fabric, like felt, nice and light, easy to wear. It might look foolish but who really cares. It’s fun and it always makes people smile.

But there’s no sense wearing it this year—I have no hair to hold back, no hair to hold a hair band in place. In fact, the plastic teeth that grip into the hair to keep the hair band in place would dig into my scalp and probably hurt.

I’m no sulking, just stating fact. No “Pumpkin Head” for me this year.

Instead, perhaps I can be “Toxic Waste Woman” and put on PJ’s pink skull-and-crossbones bandana. No, it’s not out there enough, I’d have to explain the costume. I could put on my new wig and be “Normal.” Too subtle. Someone who didn’t know about the cancer would think I wasn’t into the spirit of the holiday.

We have a great mask that I can best describe it as “Death.” It’s a nasty skeleton of a face that wears a positively gruesome, bloody, toothy gasp. Worn with a long, black cape it’s so awful that it’s wonderful. I wore it to a party a handful of years ago and no one knew who I was. I cut a larger hole in the mouth and took in my big girl cocktails through a straw so I wouldn’t have to take off the mask and reveal myself.

No, “Death” wouldn’t even be amusing this year. You know I have a sense of humor, but I’m not going near that one.

Doesn’t leave much else to go on, not with what’s on hand. I think I’ll just pull on a knit hat to fend of the chill, sit on the porch with my bags of candy, greet my little guests, and hope that when all is said and done there will be some Tootsie Rolls left over—those are my favorites.

It’s always interesting to buy Halloween candy. Do you buy something you love and hope to have leftovers, or do you buy something you don’t like and thereby reduce the risk of eating it yourself?

What are you giving away tonight? Maybe I’ll stop by and see if you recognize me.