Hate Halloween

I planned on writing this last year. But then I got the sore throat of death and was stuck in bed resting watching the Game Show Network.

Because I hate Halloween. Really do.

Now, I always dressed up as a kid. I was an 80s rocker most years because you teased your hair into a rat’s nest, sprayed some of that color shit in it, and you were good to go. I’m not creative so that was the best I could ever come up with. Mostly because I didn’t want to make any effort.

Some of you will remember that I mentioned my costume for this year in this post. And it is cute (I think) and I’m supposed to go out tonight and wear it. But I really don’t want to.

It’s funny because I’ve always said I’ve hated Halloween. I never dress up. Never went to parties. October 31st is just the day after Jason’s birthday in my book. (Happy belated birthday The Jenk!) Never went to The Castro in San Francisco. Which was good because you know, that means I’m still alive and am not a shooting victim. But see, I never knew why I had such a dislike for the stupidness that is Halloween.

It wasn’t until I thought about it and finally nailed it. See, back when I was probably around 8 or 9 or so, when my parents were going through their divorce, my dad promised to take us to a haunted house. And I was absolutely overjoyed. I couldn’t wait. A haunted house AND I got to spend time with my dad? Could it get any better for a nine year old girl?

Well, this was around the time that my dad was drinking ALL the time. Hence the divorce. So while me, my brother and my sister waited in line to get in the haunted house, my dad decided to pass the time at the bar next door. Not too big of a deal, I thought. Until there were scary men running at us with chain saws. And my brother egging them on and scaring me because, well, he was an older brother and a bit of an asshole. And all I wanted was to feel safe, you know like having a PARENT there, and I didn’t have it.

Add that to the fact that once we got to the front of the line, we couldn’t go in because we were KIDS and didn’t have the money and oh yeah, that’s our father passed out in the bar, we should probably go get him. Which meant we had to get out of line. And we didn’t get to go to the haunted house.

And THAT is why I hate Halloween.

Jesus Christ that was depressing. I SHOULD go out tonight. And start creating good Halloween memories. Even though I still really hate the whole dressing up thing. And my costume is stupid.