How to Celebrate Halloween
Subtitle: I suggest a baby in a pumpkin sleeper. Cute as hell.
50 days. We’ll get to that later.
Step 1: Decorate. Now, I know that there are no guidelines a la Chevy Chase as to how to decorate, so we can be pretty liberal here. We have some cute things, but they’re pretty simple, but we live in the country and only our friends really get to see it. However, were I to live in a neighborhood I would strive to scare the living hell out of every child within a five mile radius for the entire month. Just making this clear for when I can convince Hot Roommate to move me out of the boondocks and back to civilization.
Step 2: The Pumpkin Patch. I think I covered most of this last week, but just in case you missed that entry, here’s a summary in a nut shell.
- Bitches think it’s Miss America
- Lines are long and lead to no where
- Bugs like pumpkins
That pretty much does it I think.
Step 3: Dance the Thriller. No, for real, now that I CAN dance the Thriller I feel that everyone should be required to watch the video and learn the dance. Forget the fact that the song is good, but the dance is cool a hell! And with all of the bad press out there concerning zombies and their mobility issues, I think that to learn the Thriller would be a positive step in the direction of promoting Zombie equality. After all, in 50 days this planet’s gonna be theirs anyway.
Step 4: Haunted Houses/Trails/Etc. These are a must do for Halloween and I as write this step I’m realizing that this should have probably gotten an entry all of it’s own but we’re going to need to be moving on to elections and turkeys so I’m just gonna have to deal. So here are just some general tips instead:
- Do not take your kid sister to a haunted hayride. She is evil and once she hears from a friend that you should never tell the creepy guys leading the wagon your name guess what she is going to do??? Give the guy YOUR name!!! So then, once the ride starts EVERY FRAKKIN monster in the damn thing leaps onto the wagon and is in YOUR face asking “Bri are you scared yet??” and you CANNOT Black Belt them. Don’t take her.
- But, you can’t take friends from high school either because they either SHOVE you to the front while THEY walk behind as everything jumps out at YOU OR they rush ahead leaving you with two elementary aged boys who are pulling you INTO THE FLOOR as the scary zombie looking thing jumps out of a bathroom stall at you, which courtesy of Stephen King and Tim Curry is the most HORRIFYING experience that you can imagine. And you STILL CANNOT Black Belt them. Don’t take him either.
- And friends from work? Don’t take them either. They will tell you that there are NO CLOWNS, assure you, tell you repeatedly and then halfway through the trail you come upon a house, full of clowns with CHAINSAWS. That you CANNOT Black Belt. Nope, co-workers out.
- Hot Roommate won’t go. Scratch that.
- I have yet to kidnap Michael Shanks. No luck there either.
- Honestly, it’s best we just don’t go
Step 5: Pick a costume. Ok, everyone does French maid, Vampire, Zombie, BLEH - so cliche (unless you can do cool crap like zippers on your face in which case, carry on). Pick something ORIGINAL, a TV show, a Movie, something sarcastic (One of my co-workers took a little black dress and safety pinned 50 different “shades of grey” onto the dress - see - clever). However, pick something your kids don’t have to explain, even if your photo is so frakkin cool that you’re gonna make it your Christmas Card (Don’t believe me? Check your mailbox). Because nothing says confusion like when your seven year old has to explain what his costume is, and he knows, because he watches the show, and the person answering the door gives you that look that says “Wait until you leave, I am calling child services.”
Step 6: Survive the last days. You people think I’m kidding, but when all of you are showing up in Beaverdam at my front door we’re gonna see who’s laughing. (There will be a supply list of things you’ll need to bring before you’re allowed entry - stay tuned). Now, this year Hurricane Sandy almost rained, literally, on our parade and poor New York and New Jersey really got hit and I feel so awful for them, but Richmond? Well, they hyped us and hyped us and gas stations ran out of gas, grocery stores ran out of food, there were accidents, traffic, insanity, schools closed, I actually bought Twinkies!! And nothing. Last Days Fail.
Step 7: Pick your neighborhood. Now I’ve always lived in the country, so when we were kids we would drive into town to the rich neighborhood because they would give out whole candy bars. However, as time passed, they got wise to us and started putting these codes on their doors and such that us poor dumb country folk didn’t understand. So we tried the railroad tracks in Ashland and yeah, that was a cattle call nightmare. Don’t do that. Try your kind friends that just had a baby and convince them they need to take her our for her first Halloween. Then trick or treat THIER neighborhood. Genius!
Step 8: Trick or Treat. It’s not dark yet. It’s not dark yet. Uh, we’re leaving, because it’s dark, turn off the TV. Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run. See why I said not to run. Say thank you. In English. Don’t run. Put your coat on. Sweetie, these people do not know who Carl is, the coat does not matter. Put the coat on. Are you coming? What are you doing? Stop eating the Candy!!! Do not throw that wrapper on the street!!! How far are we from the car honey?
Step 9: Dinner. Because somehow the past six hours have evaporated like three shots of a Zat gun (I HAD to find a way to fit Daniel Jackson in here twice :P ) you have accidentally forgotten to feed your children. Frantically go to Wendy’s to see that every other parent in central Virginia is having the same idea about the same Wendy’s. No honey, we’re not going in there because you heard they’re giving away free Frosties on the radio that is a mad house. Wait! Stop!! Turn left! Little Caesars!! They have $5 pizza and no one is there! And then proceed to pass pizza boxes around the car. With sodas. Because all thoughts of health at this point should just be out the window.
Step 10: DRINK. But not Spanish wine because it is Wednesday and you have to work, kids go to bed, the kids have to go to school, yes you go to bed, you have to pay bills, I am not kidding go to bed, write this blog, go to bed I am trying to do this writing shit to send YOUR asses to college, clean things up, why are you not in bed!?!? Scratch coke, where’s my wine?