The Halloween blues

I can’t stand Halloween.

I know that it makes me a horrible college student. I know that because it’s the last week of October, I’m supposed to be dishing out money for the most sacred uniform of collegiate America: the Halloween costume.

By now I should have already invested hours into pulling together an outfit that is either witty, sexy or scary.

But as the day draws nearer, I’m receding further into my shell. College law dictates that I should have already recruited the members for my group costume and tried to one-up the rivals.

I’m so far behind the costume curve that when I made a last-stitch effort to scour Goodwill for anything remotely wearable, all I found was a pair of white tights and a red jacket.

I considered being a revolutionary war soldier.

In fact, next to that the best idea that I had was to be a lifeguard. I am a lifeguard.
I know, I know – there must be something wrong with me. I hate candy corn, I don’t find costumes fun and I’d rather spend $46.95 on a pair of jeans than one yard’s worth of a Tinkerbell dress.

I don’t even have a good reason for opposing Halloween. Sure, I’m not a huge fan of the gamut of women’s costume choices. (Will it be sexy kitten or pirate whore?) But that’s not the whole reason. I don’t think it’s fun to dress up.

For the uncreative like me, Halloween is more stress than it’s worth.

I’ll spend three weeks thinking, and all I will come up with are famous people who I don’t look like, things that I don’t have enough money to buy or something I don’t have the time to make.

What I hate most about Halloween is all the pressure that comes with it.
Since it’s supposed to be one of the most fun nights of the year, if I’m not enjoying myself I feel like a failed college student – like I’ve flunked some big social midterm.
For me, Halloween represents this ridiculous ideal of fun that I can never seem to live up to.

 It’s like I build it up to be this great thing and then come down hard on myself when I’m not meeting some imaginary fun quota.

But this isn’t just about me. It’s about you. It’s about us.

It’s about how, Halloween or not, we all go along with things that we don’t like.
We do things, wear things, say things that only half-fit because we have to live up to some ridiculous idea about how much fun we are “supposed” to be having.

So if you want, spend Saturday night doing whatever boring, bland, mainstream thing you want. And don’t feel bad about it.

Sure, Halloween can be fun, but if you’re not that into it, just say no.

Then go find something else that is more fun and less expensive. I know I’ll be doing the same.