Witchy Woman

So last year my daughter brings home a Halloween party invitation – for adults and kids. It boasts games, movies, and treats. Adults are also required to dress up – there are prizes for best costume, elaborate games, food, palm readings, sketch artist – you name it. I was a little intimidated and intrigued at the same time. Halloween is definitely my thing, so even though I don’t know a soul (including the host), I’m up for the challenge.

So I dig out the costume box. I sport a long, black wig, sorceress cape, long gown, purple lipstick, and other spooky make up. The costume is no competition from my 1992 Dead Prom Queen with the hatchet in her neck, but it will do. We bake a very cool graveyard brownie dessert. And we GO!

We arrive. Adults and kids galore and, well........I am the MOST dressed up adult. Possibly the most dressed up PERSON. The host is a witch and oohs and aahs over my costume, which she labels as witch. I think, thankfully I don’t know anyone here because when I bump into any of these people at a future event, they will have no idea who I am.

So I attempt to mingle - to no avail. Wives are clutching their husbands and giving the “do not talk to that person, honey” look. A few people nod politely, then impolitely turn the other way. Honestly, I wasn't that scary. Does my being single and the most dressed up make me seem on the prowl? Maybe... if I was dressed as one of the Slutz or a trampy devil. But ghoulish scary person with her cute Dorothy and Toto clad daughter? Not thinking I’m a big threat to Mrs. Put-On-a-Cat-Headband.

So the host wanders over and we chat a bit, at which point she explains how her 5-year old handed out all the invitations willy-nilly. “She wasn’t supposed to give them to everyone – just the soccer team!”

Soccer Mom I am not. So not only am I the most dressed up, but I’m NOT EVEN REALLY INVITED! The host didn't think it was weird that she told me what she did, so I blew it off for the moment. My daughter was having fun, so I decide to stick out the party a little longer. A glass of wine might have hit the spot at this point, but it was a dry party. Strike Three.

At the end of the night (which in reality was only about an hour later), I was hot and my fake hair was getting in the dip, so I took off my wig. At this point, the host freaked out. She couldn’t deal with me not being a brunette. She even asked me to put it back on.

* * *
For the rest of the year, whenever I see the Halloween Hostess, she mildly freaks that I don't have long dark hair with a white stripe. I’m like her personal ghost or something. And she oddly seems to like me.

This year, I get a REAL invitation to the party (the envelope was addressed to my daughter and The Witch). I showed up as a gypsy. With a long BLONDE wig (yes, to make a point). Everyone, I mean everyone was DRESSED UP this year. And I won a soccer ball prize for best costume.

Happy Halloweirdo!


Halloweens Past...

A few howling moons ago, my child had her first trick-or-treating experience. It was quite an experience for her mother as well. Luckily I documented said event and have pasted it below for this post. (Okay, maybe a bit like cheating or regifting....but why not pull from the archives if possible? So what if it wasn't called blogging then, the intent was the same...minus the World Wide Audience)


I could see that magical day in my mind. I bought fabric. I sewed, broke a few needles, conned the sitter into threading the bobbin (I really had no idea what I was doing). Then I hand-sewed silk flowers to the skirt and tracked glitter all over the house. I made a wand...and a crown. I practically lived the few days before Halloween as a deranged would-be stage mother, playing down the fact that I made the costume....Oh, I just threw it together! (at midnight).

Halloween arrived cold and rainy. My child lasted about five seconds in the costume before announcing with conviction "I don't like my fairy princess costume." She then insisted I take it off (which of course I had to do because she pooped in it). She soon discovered the candy bowl and helped herself to her first tootsie pop, getting red, sticky candy juice all over her face (and eventually in my hair when she jammed said lollypop into my ear). Then she got a stomach ache. But I was still somewhat determined, and even though she was sans costume, I took her outside, hoping the trick-or-treating event might actually happen. And during the screaming fit of her telling me that she wants “to go to trick or treat", it dawned on me that she thinks it's a party. With swings. And why isn't she there? An hour and a half later, after constant screaming and her head making a 360 degree revolution, I threw her into the van hoping for some peace and quiet (no such luck) -- while listening to her Baby Songs tape for the 9 millionth time.

Once home, I popped some migraine medication, thought about breaking open a bottle of Scotch from the bar, and counted the minutes until her 7:30 bedtime when the (expletive) holiday was over. On the flip side, I got to eat all her candy.


I'm "It"

I am honored to have received my very first Tagging from CJblue. I have been charged with writing 20 random facts about myself. My instructions are to tag 5 other bloggers. I don't know 5 other bloggers. I'll have to figure out what to do without seeming like a blogstalker!

Here goes...

1. I taught middle school English in Miami, Florida, where I received “combat” pay for teaching in the projects.
2. I started keeping a journal 27 years ago. I still have them all.
3. I love Jelly Bellies. Blueberry+Popcorn=Blueberry Muffin.
4. I moved 8 times by the time I turned 17.
5. I was born in the Motor City.
6. I detest mob movies.
7. I’m a good cook.
8. If I had money to burn, I’d own an obscene number of shoes.
9. Blonde I am. Dizzy I’m not (usually)
10. I lettered in track and tennis in high school.
11. I’m a closet “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” fan (well, anything Joss Wheden writes…)
12. I’m a soprano but have been known to sing bass and tenor in a pinch.
13. 4 colleges; 4 years; no summers; graduated on time.
14. I get wicked, insane, want-to-run-people-off-the-road PMS.
15. My very first rock album was Van Halen.
16. I’m a beer snob.
17. I am blessed with an amazing group of friends.
18. I’m a single mom.
19. My best friend and I had a secret language in Jr. High. We are still best friends but speak regular English.
20. I’m madly in love with a man who lives too far away.


Blog Trailer

Okay, I know I'm behind. I promise I'm not being blazy. Just blusy. That being said, look next week for the possible following features....
  • Speaking of behind, I feel the need to add my ten cents to CJBlue's topic on Beauty and Weight.
  • Halloween approaches. Halloweens past brings to mind a few stories. Not ghost stories, but horrific nonetheless.
  • Christmas Letters. Not the "Dear Santa" kind. The "Two-page, single-spaced, let me take some time out of your life to talk about my cruise" kind. I realize we have a few months, but perhaps discussion about this topic may prevent some holiday tragedies.