It would be one week to the day until the joyous celebratory affair that is Halloween. October 31 has become different things to me in my life cycle. As a kid I would greet it as an annual chance to visit my neighbors and eat sketchy candy. By the time I was a teenager I hated everything, included holidays, and I was presented the sad news my trick or treating days were a distant memory. I was never much in to scary (a self-diagnosed heart problem brought on by all things frightening). If I wasn't going to do the haunted house thing, and I couldn't get free swag from the neighbors or dress up like something that would inspire "awww"s from strangers - I just didn't see the point. Halloween, what can you do for me, I asked? Nothing.
And of course, it was just another opportunity for my parents to argue.
Aside from the changing leaves and warm welcome of fall, I had little interest in Halloween.
A year ago I was adopted by a nice family in Bakersfield. My family is lovely, but I just wasn't sure they were serving all my needs. I'd need to outsource. They really do up holidays real nice like, and I got to carve my first pumpkin with them. Carving pumpkins, acceptable Halloween activity for grownups, and fun. One point for Halloween. Later that week I dressed up with friends and had all sorts of gobs of fun. Not only could one dress up, and slutty was not only allowed, but expected, but it was another chance to party like a rockstar with your friends. Four points for Halloween. I saw in Riteaid inexpensive candy I could buy. I wouldn't need to rely on sketchy candy from strangers anymore. I would allot three points for that. I looked at my social calendar and it was just filling up with all sorts of fun activities - compliments of this Halloween person. It was difficult, but my opinion on Halloween had budged. I didn't all together hate it.
In early summer, I discovered a grassy area near my office uninhabited by my co-workers. I could go there to escape and bring a blanket and a glass of juice, and a book. Identifying with Alice in Wonderland and her good natured attempt to follow adventure down all sorts of dark holes, I chose that as my literature. I sat out there on that grassy patch behind the office, on my fleece blanket compliments of a Dodger giveaway, saw an occasional butterfly, and read Alice in Wonderland. My day felt reset when I went back in the office - and by the time I had gone cover to cover it was her I wanted to be on this Halloween holiday I didn't all together hate anymore.
Knowing much about her, I knew she was a wholesome girl. Unfortunately I had difficulty finding a Halloween costumer with that same vision. I finally selected one that almost covered my ass, and I thought that good enough.
So I'd have my costume and set my calendar with all sorts of exciting social possibilities. I'd researched my character. Halloween ready 2007 was I.
Until Wednesday.
Until. Wed-nes-day.
Believing that exercise is for masochists, I have a very strict policy to avoid it. However, it's come to my attention that I will not live forever and ever as I've been to lied to in Disney movies. There is an end. So to that end, I thought perhaps the masochism a necessary evil for prolonging my life.
Rachel and I made plans to hit the gym. But there would be the issue of the outfit. I arrived home, and on my doorknob, the following pamphlet appeared, compliments of Forest Lawn Cemetery:
HAVE YOU ASKED YOURSELF THESE SIX QUESTIONS?
1. Who will you leave behind when you die?
2. Who will prepare your final arrangements?
3. What sort of funeral would you want?
I didn't need to read 4, 5, 6,. It was clear, all be it compliments of a random pamphlet on my door, I would die. While I was out busy living, death was knocking on my door, and leaving notes. "I was joining a gym, God - I swear, I just came home to put on a cute outfit. I promise."
Was it too late? Had I reached the end of the line? While I'd given my friends a hard time for cleansing diets and no carb fads and even my own mother for carrying a suitcase of fruit around - clearly the joke was on me.
I did what was immediately rational, I took the funeral notice to the gym, and said sign me up. When the forms took too long I shouted at them to speed things along. Get me on that elliptical and how.
$200 later there have been no death notices since on my door. I seem to have escaped death's grip. Until next Halloween...
