I’m having the scariest Halloween season ever. It’s not the haunted corn maze my roommate keeps trying to get me to see (because I definitely need another weird complex associated with vegetables). It’s not the girls who literally have to tape their body parts to make sure everything stays inside their skimpy costumes. It’s not even the inhuman number of Pumpkin Spice Lattes I’ve been drinking in preparation for the long, dark, Pumpkin Spice-less time known as “The Rest of the Year”. Those things are frightening, but the most terrifying part of this Halloween– the thing that’s been keeping me up at night in a cold sweat and haunting my dreams when I finally manage to sleep– is the sudden, horrifying epiphany I had last week.
I finally figured out what makes monsters so scary.
They’re my ex-boyfriends!
More than once in high school, my mom woke up with the solution to a tricky algebra problem she’d been helping me with the night before. Somehow, while she was asleep, her brain was using FOIL and solving proofs and she’d wake up with the whole thing solved. It’s an incredibly handy talent for a kid who’s stressing out about her pre-calc class the next morning, but so far it doesn’t seem to be genetic.
This morning, however, I woke up with a Halloween-themed song in my head. For a second, I hoped I was a regular Paul McCartney, who woke up one morning with the tune to “Yesterday” fully realized. After singing it a couple times, though, I realized it already existed — all I’d done was change the lyrics, and they weren’t even that good. If my mom is a slightly-less-than-lucid Euclid in her sleep, I’m like a fifth-rate Weird Al-wannabe.
Anyway, this is the song I was singing on my way to decorate my building for Halloween this morning:
(Here’s the background music. Please excuse the jingle bells.)
It’s my most judgmental time of the year.
Your costume’s exploding
your boobs are both showing,
it’s why people leer!
It’s my most judgmental time of the year!
While it’s not a particularly good song, it made me realize that I’m sort of a prude at Halloween. I like to think I’m open-minded, but when one girl walked by wearing caution tape (and ONLY caution tape), I stopped being a thoughtful person and started being a bitter old lady about this holiday. You have the right to wear whatever you want, and that’s cool, but when you’re wearing a thin strip of plastic and it’s 34 degrees outside, I will happily stick up my nose and passive-aggressively bring up hypothermia.
After a Sexy Baby (A SEXY BABY COSTUME. Purchasing that should get you put on some kind of sex offender watch list.) walked past me, I started to wonder if there was anything safe from sexualization on Halloween.