Halloween is by far my least favorite holiday.  And I blame it all on the "Haunted Basement" hosted by Jamie Adair every year.  Jamie loves Halloween.  Ever since I can remember, she has invited all of her friends over for hotdogs and beverages.  However, when I was younger (circa four years old), Jamie thought it would be a great idea to create a "Haunted Basement".  And Kelley Randall Castaneda will also quote, "I was always the kid that dressed as a witch every year.  I was also the kid that sat in the carport eating a lot of hotdogs while all the other kids went through the haunted house.  I couldn't help it.  It was scary down there."  And I'll back her up on it.  That crap was scary.  I mean, I watched a lady that had played my mother in a show two months before that walk up from the basement with a candelabra in her hand, dressed in all black, with blood smeared all over her face.  This was a far cry from her collared dress and apron that she wore in The Music Man. I mean, I realize she was really trying to be theatery and all, but give a kid a break for God's sake.

By far, the moment that really hit home and triggered my hatred for Halloween occurred during this same year.  I, like Kelley, was dressed as a witch, green face, bowl cut, mole and all.  Now, my father, being the theatery man he is, always participated in the Haunted Basement.  Well, for some reason, I went into the Haunted Basement.  I was only four, so I don't quite remember what possessed me to enter, whether it was my mom taking me through or me going  under my own will.  The point is, it was a mistake.  I enter into the basement.....I see many scary people that strangely resembled many of my neighbors....and as I enter into the next room, I see a man with slicked back black hair, blood around his mouth, white face, and a vampire cape lit by a strobe light and standing over a woman who was dressed in shredded white gown---screaming.  The man was simultaneously screaming and cackling while waving his robe over the screaming woman (again, let me remind you that he was lit by a strobe light which make any experience ten times more intense.....and I was four).  Well, this man/vampire was my father.  Of course, I was so shocked and traumatized by the fact that a vampire was about to eat one of my neighbors, that I didn't even realize it was my father.  That is, until he pulled out his vampire teeth, looked at me while I was screaming, and said "Taylor! It's me!"  It was then that I realized that my father is a vampire.  I've hated Halloween ever since. 

Another reason I hate Halloween is because everybody dresses like sluts.  Don't deny it.  You've done it before.  And I definitely won't deny it.  I've tried.  But the only time I tried was when I was eight years old.  I was really into watching Nick at Nite that year and I watched a whole lot of "I Dream of Genie"....therefore I wanted to dress as the genie.  The costume called for a bare stomach.  I was all about it.  But my mother opted for me to wear a turtleneck under the suit....."because it was a little chilly".  After that, I wasn't about dressing up dirtily for Halloween.  I was never a dirty nurse, or dirty cowgirl, or dirty police officer, or dirty bumblebee, or dirty kitten, or dirty prisoner, or dirty Raggedy Ann doll.  So I never really fit in at Halloween.  My outfit choices have been Betty Rubble, a nun, Bon Qui Qui, a Drunk Bus pilot, and a crab.  It's just not my thing.  

So, this year, I've decided to not let Halloween get the best of me.  Oh no.  I'm in control now.  I will happily spend my Halloween at Talbots, overeating Reese's, and hopefully end my day scaring children who come to trick-or-treat.  I mean dang, I took it for years....so now I'm going to dish it.  

And for now, at least I'm not this kid.