Happy Freaking Halloween

As a kid, Halloween was my favorite holiday. First of all, it was an excuse to dress up as my favorite thing.

A cat.

I was a cat for the first ten years of my life.  Not only that, but I was an only child until I was six, which meant that nobody would steal my candy from me over the month or so it took me to eat it. Because I was an only child, my Dad was my trick-or-treating buddy. I'd beg and tug on his legs until he'd take me trick-or-treating.

I'd get so pumped up to go that I couldn't even handle it.

Being a painfully shy child, it turned out that I never really had the spine to actually ask people I didn't know for candy, because the moment the door would open, I'd freeze up. Somehow, year after year, I'd forget that trick-or-treating required me to say words to people I wasn't familiar with. 

When I'd finally muster the courage to say "Trick Or Treat!" something else would freak me out. 

It would either be that one not-funny neighbor that said "Trick!"

or that other neighbor who thought it would be a good idea to give you a toothbrush.

Or it would be that well-meaning neighbor that gives you a homemade cookie despite that everybody in the the 90's put razors and poison into your candy. 

But my passionate drive to acquire as much candy as possible always outweighed my fear. 

After ditching the plastic dollar store pumpkin in favor of a pillowcase to hold my candy, Halloween began to lose some of its magic. There was one day when I realized I could buy all the Halloween candy I wanted at the store. 

When I entered high school, I still loved Halloween. Just... when nobody was looking (besides my best friend Sarah, of course).

When the sun set...I transformed into the nerd that I really was.

Now that I'm in college, Halloween should now be ironically fun, right? But...I've still been Harry Potter for the last 3 years. Not even a slutty Harry Potter at that.

Anyway. Happy Halloween!