Trials and Traumas of Planning Halloween Party Costumes

Trials and Traumas of Planning Halloween Party Costumes
Unlike what feels to be most of the U.S., I have a hard time getting into the Halloween Spirit. I’m not much of a costume party gal, either. Halloween party costume planning induces the kind of stress in me that creates gray hairs and pimples. But, here I am, trying to scramble something together. Glitter is…  Everywhere. I don’t know how I will ever get rid of all the glitter.
Despite the purple wig I bought for tonight’s soiree makes me look just so unappealing and unappetizing in ANY and EVERY SINGLE way, thus forcing me to default to an already debuted wig (long and turquoise), I will muster myself forward. The advantage of wearing a wig to the costume party is that I don’t have to wash my hair, thus significantly reducing my time from fraggle to shin dig ready.
Halloween Party Planning
Before I even head to the party, I’ll overshare this with you, because this is me and my life and the stupid s*** I do. Prior to even beginning to get ready to de-fraggle I misdirect a text intended for my friend, Liz. It goes to the absolutely adorable Literature-and-Creative-Writing-Professor-Who-Is-Also-A-Poet-&-Short-Story-Essayist I met on a chance Wednesday night and then sipped beers suds with on Thursday.
Multiple meetings in fairly short time… I know! Seriously, how could I say “I’m busy” when I really wasn’t busy on Thursday eve when he asks me, within hours of meeting me, “how soon is too soon before I can see you again?” Little swoon! Meanwhile, back to that text….
So, I send a text I think is going to Liz (see where this is going — technology in the form of “smart phones” HATES me) but actually goes to the adorable professor… And I’m asking her how much her abs hurt, then go into detail explaining how my bum better be a half inch higher after that insane Pure Barre workout… blah blah blah. Oh, no. Maybe it’s because my dad was raised a Southern Baptist. But I’m not ready to talk to someone I haven’t even been on an official date with yet the shape and lift of my bum? Oh, I about died. I don’t think I’m built for modern dating. At all. Bless my own heart, right? Aiyee….
Happy Halloween party crashing, friends! Drive safe, better yet, don’t drink at all if you plan to drive, so you can be super safe. I’m packing an overnight, just in case I decide to indulge. I have an invitation to spend the night. Text carefully, too.

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