A treatise on trick or treats

This month has been rough. Work has been a bit overwhelming, but I can generally handle that. What bothers me is that it is eating into my much loved early fall season, and my valuable pre-Holiday season. And by Holiday, I mean Halloween. As everyone should.

Seriously. I know everyone has a different favorite holiday, but everyone who favors anything outside of October is simply wrong. Christmas may give us a run for our money, true, but Thanksgiving? New Years? Pathetic.

Who would prefer a hippie “thanks for the world” turkey sandwich or a sad excuses to get drunk and kiss someone over COSTUMES and CANDY!?

Maybe my love is just a natural release to my pent up desires from the rest of the year, spent avoiding sugar and wearing t-shirts and jeans. Every now and then, a lady’s got to get glamorous. And when I say glamorous, I mean bloody. Or foppishly Adam Ant-y.

Or maybe it’s natural considering my slightly morbid tastes. I am a horror junkie. My hour-long commute kinda sucked until I discovered Pseudopod. For some reason, gore-filled short fiction read aloud to me really soothes the road rage as people cut me off in the backup to the Bay Bridge. Go figure.

Becky as Bella for halloweenMore than that, I think it’s my pop-culture obsession. I love people that dress like internet memes, or anyone who simply throws on an “I ❤ Toxic Waste” t-shirt. Last year, my favorite costume at my party was the friend who simply wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a torn-out page of binder paper that said “I love Edward.” So simple. So perfect.

No matter why, I think it’s plain to see that this weekend will be awesome. And I don’t even care to try and understand anyone who thinks differently on the subject. Phlbt. You’re wrong.

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