Not Your Typical Halloweener

It's that time of year again, where pumpkins are carved, the undead roam the earth, and women display their own pumpkins while being "dressed" up as a pirate, and aren't afraid to show off their parrot. (I use "dressed" loosely.)  I, however,  am not one of those women.  Hardly.  First of all, it really wasn't until this year that I actually enjoyed the thought of Halloween.  Typically I would barely acknowledge the day.  If Lenny and I bought pumpkins, they were bought for the purpose to decorate our porch for Thanksgiving.  I saw no real need in purchasing Halloween decorations, and the thought of getting dressed up seemed ridiculous.  This year was a whole other story.  Suddenly I was covering every nook and cranny with fake spider webs.  We bought a 100 pack of plastic spiders, and I used them.  All of them.  I made my poor husband twist his body into Gumby proportions, so I could outline his body with red electrical tape, so that my foyer resembled a crime scene.  I cut mouse silhouettes until my fingers cramped, and the old arthritis kicked in, and we toasted apples in the oven so that we could  float shrunken apple noggins in a batch of fresh apple cider.   Just what is going on here?!  Could it be that I was possessed by the H-ween spirit?  Did Martha Stewart somehow channel a part of herself into me?  I think I'll just blame it on the hard cider....  But back to the topic of costumes.  I have never, nor will I ever, dress up in a leotard with fishnets for a holiday that I feel should be more hilarious, than ho-ish.  First of all leotards should only be worn while either a) exercising, or b) you are a part of a jazz dance ensemble and are displaying spirit fingers.  Second of all, there is no such thing as a "sexy pirate".  Pirates were/are dirty and gross.  They sailed the high seas for months on end, and trust me, they didn't have an opportunity to soak in a jet tub, or have Calgon take them away.  If anything, if I'm going to be a pirate, I would do my best as displaying the fact that I have scurvy, and my teeth are rotting out of my head because I haven't had the chance to water-pick those joints in a few weeks.  Maybe I take things too literal, or maybe I just don't enjoy the fact that my pumpkin patch might catch a draft because my bumblebee tutu is too short.  I read an article the other day that said a persons Halloween costume says a lot about a person.  The holiday gives people the opportunity to pretend to be something that they aren't.  It gives someone the chance to be sexy, or voyeuristic.  Or if you want to pretend to be a mass murderer, have at it.  But then I reviewed my costumes from the past two years (I did get a little into the holiday last year), and I thought to myself, "Wah-oh."


Here is a picture from last year:

You see, my husband and I wanted to have a "pair" costume, so we decided to be the White Trash Twins, Carl & Karl.  I was a dude.  That wore jorts.  I'm trying to figure out what this costume says about me, and the only thing that I could come up with is that I'm awesome.

And then there was this year.  Would Lenny and I be The Captain and Teneal?  Ketchup and Mustard? A sassy plug and outlet?  Nope.

We were Pork and Beans.  

So next year, if the spirit strikes me again, don't be on the lookout for me being dressed up as a naughty nurse, or a sassy dinosaur.  But if you happen to see two "dudes" wearing super sweet mullet wigs and handlebar 'staches, dressed up as Jon Baker and Ponch from CHiPS, it'll probably be Lenny and me. :)

Happy Halloweenie, Friends!