I have concerns.
- How did I get face paint in the crevice of my armpit? Nobody knows. Nobody.
- How in the world, am I going to pee in a giant pacman costume made of roughly, oh, 30 pizza boxes.
Hardest costumes to be in have to be the following
– A 1920’s flapper costume.
ANYTHING that has sequins or beads dangling is gonna be a bit o’ an issue. Where do those beads go? You don’t want to know.
– Any costume that involved artistic capabilities.
I saw a homemade lumiere and clogsworth last year… I’m very interested to see when that, “Oh shit” moment happened to the wooden clock. Was it in line at the bathroom? Alone in the stall trying to maneuveure around its pendulum?
- Why is everything dirty? I mean e v e r y t h i n g. There’s feathers in the carpet. Theres a sticky substance on the dog. Eyelash glue is sticking to your credit cards. You have a lipstick LID, no lipstick.
- Really wish my makeup brushes didn’t get so well acquainted with that, “fake” dirt. Now drop the word “fake” Halloween incorporated, this shit is very real. My apartment had so much damage from the fake dirt from Halloween 2016, that I actually had to move.
- I don’t know if I’m a skeleton or a zombie but I DO know that this is not washing off for at least two showers.
- Why did I put glue in my eye?
- 12:01 AM: “…Yes but when do we eat pizza?”
- Why did I give my number to one of the diggers from Recess? Not even TJ Detweiler… some freakin’ side plot character. Better question, why hasn’t the digger from recess texted me?
- Did I miss some mandatory, “girl code” lesson where we learned how to turn our faces into freakin’ starry night on Halloween?
- How the fuck did she make that. Honestly. She’s probably looking at me like, “oh you’re a deer? That’s cute. I’m the entire table of the Last Supper with appetizers AND dessert.”
- Wings are never a good idea.
Help me I’m stuck.
- If one more person asks me what my costume is I’m going to tear two holes for eyes in Melissa’s egyptian cotton sheets. Did all males at this party sleep through history class? I’m a flapper from the 1920’s!
Man at party: “Haha… does that mean you fly?”
“… How do you not fall down more?”
Man at party: “Haha no for real, what is that?”
“… Badass chicks from the 1920s era.. drank during prohibition, did the Charleston…”
**Proceeds to do the Charleston**
Man at party: “Yo, I think that’s the twist.”
“… Chicago. Gangsters in New York. Anything.”
Man at party: “Yeah I don’t really watch movies…”
“… Do you open books?”
- If someone shows up to the party in the same costume as you, you automatically go into, “take down this imposter” mode. You ask your nearby confidants for reassurance that you did, in fact, pull it off better. As my roommate stated when she found out that there was another, “Wilma” from Scooby Doo at the party, “Wilma’s going down”.
- Do I want to be sweaty or freezing this year? There is no in-between.
- Halloween night, “dead person”. The next morning trying to scrub the white face paint off, “recovering cocaine addict”.
Get it off. Get it off now.
- “Oh. Well we found Nemo and he’s sexier than I remembered”.
- If your outfit needs to be, “refrigerated” (looking at you Ms. vegetable garden) intermittently between wears, you are way more experienced and committed to Halloween than I.
- Don’t forget to get up early the day after Halloween to sit on the porch and watch the lone, “blind mouse” stumble home.
- When you half-assed your costume and everyone is forcing you to document it for all of eternity by requesting constant pictures. Just embrace it.
- You tell yourself that next year, you’re going to plan your costume in advance so that you don’t look like a total idiot, again. Like a New Year’s resolution, you never follow through.
Each year, it’s a meltdown in the final hour. Causing you to do something super generic with items you already own (looking at you Wednesday Adams & salt n pepper shakers).
Until next year, salt shaker out.