Halloweenie

To get in the Halloween spirit, since my parents moved to a town where we don’t know many people, my brother and I rented horror flicks and ate too much store-bought pumpkin pie.

Word to the wise: if you’re already feeling out of it, do not, under any circumstances rent Stephen King’s It.

Of course, you already knew that, cause you’re smart. What was I thinking? Oh I don’t know, that it would be a fun, fabulous release. I’d squeal and cheer and think about something else. But I was instead refreshed on a valuable lesson, the same one I learned mere moments after Requiem for a Dream’s credits began to roll.

Watching people writhe through their own horrible circumstances doesn’t quite make you feel better. It just makes you feel way, way worse. Who would have thought?

So back to It, and back to store-bought pumpkin pie. Still scary. And filmed in that weird early 80s grain. And starring Jonathan Brandis, who incidentally, killed himself not too long ago. Abusive parents, suicides, alcoholism. Killer clowns. Kids being awful to other kids, trying to stone each other to death while also hurling horrible insults.

The only upside is that a very tall-looking Seth Green is one of the kids. This my brother would not pipe down about as we watched, making me rewind scenes that I wanted to cover my eyes for since we couldn’t keep track of what was happening with all his narrative interruptions and too-loud laughter.

That coupled with our antiquey groaning house and our cat, who is black and likes to pounce in the dark anytime I come downstairs for ice water in the middle of the night, he’ll bat-bat his paws through the grate of the railing at my head or jump on my leg and sink his little needle teeth into my ankle, makes for a little too much horror for a Saturday evening in Connecticut.

You think I would have said no when the roomies invited me to see Saw III. But still, I love that stuff (I really ‘liked’ The Descent. Not that I will ever see it again). I like to jump. I love roller coasters and haunted hayrides and scary movies. Usually.

A few twisted bones and lacerated skulls later and I started to get drained of the Halloween spirit. I think I saturated myself with freakfests and blood, thinking that was the way to get prepared for the holiday.

So no more scary stuff for Halloween, at least for another day. Enough is screwed up and violent and wrong and scary with the world. I want the lighter side of Halloween. Back when my family would have jack-o-lantern carving contests and my dad would always win ‘cause he’d go by the kit and the rest of us insisted on our creative spirits, hacking jagged mouths and drooping triangle eyes.

Or when I’d trick or treat with Rachel, my red-haired best friend in Buchanan-Verplank, and I was always a cat and she was always something obscure, and I’d trade her all of my other candy for her peanut butter cups. Then later in junior high and prep school when we’d all go to dances and it became clear that Halloween was cart blanche for dressing slutty, but unfortunately so, because it was always cold, so we’d freeze our butts off in skimpy dresses and high boots and wigs just to impress the boys.

Then further on, when we’d pound beers and go see the parade in Chapel Hill and people dressed like The Ambiguously Gay Duo and Muff Divers and for two years running I dressed like a raver because I used to think I was one and it was fun to wear the big pants again and get permission to look ridiculous. Not scary times then, and great Halloweens.

Enough with the scary stuff. I need candy and cocktails and a last-minute costume. Any ideas?*

* (Taping a star onto my stomach to be a ‘Star Bellied Sneech’ is out of the running since my high school best friend already did that one)