"Why hide it?"

"Why fight it?"

Happy Hallowe'en!

No costume this year. I used to pay close attention to my Hallowe'en disguises; quite often, I hit the ceiling of my budget (if I even had a budget), though I was always thrilled when I could pull off the outfit on the cheap. In the first few years following the move from our parents' houses, the apartment was always dressed up for the occasion, too. One year we even had a party.

It's been almost two decades since I stopped trick-or-treating. I don't go out at all on or around Hallowe'en anymore, but this can be chalked up to either laziness or the real joy I find in staying home. This would probably be the perfect time to transition to Hallowe'en Candy Giver. We have some chocolate in our apartment that will pass for loot, should either of the two children in this building knock on our door tonight. (I doubt it will be the superintendent's son, as he's a teenager now. The toddler from the apartment below us might be too young to go out; if he's not, he'd do better to travel through the wealthy neighbourhoods across the street. I wonder what they're giving away tonight! Something more than random squares of Hershey's Special Dark, that's for sure.)

I'd be excited to see the kids' get-ups, though. I still love Hallowe'en! It's not that it's an excuse to eat tons of sugary snacks -- I'm an adult now and can shovel terrible things into my body whenever I please! There's just something that seems to happen on October 31: the air switches to a constant crisp; even the most reluctant pull out sweaters for the season; and we begin our slide towards holiday celebrations. Hey! congratulations. We made it through another year! Don't take that too lightly.

The apartment is barely decorated this year, but it's decorated. A twelve-inch ghost made out of Christmas lights and thin, curved strips of white plastic sits on a speaker in a corner of the living room, waiting to be plugged in when the sun goes down; two fake but convincing stuffed ravens are perched on the window sill with their beaks to the living room window, giving the evil eye to anyone who dares look up. A dancing skeleton from that old Hallowe'en party is placed by the television; if we turn it on, it will sing a verse from "Super Freak" any time it senses motion. (We're not going to turn it on, by the way.) We're definitely going to turn on the motorized black rat, with its blood-red claws and eyes. It will scurry around the apartment, changing direction when it bumps into something. Maybe that something will be our black cat, our ready-made symbol of Hallowe'en -- imagine how freaked out he'll be. That's the spirit, kitty!

HAPPY HALLOWE'EN!

TRACK LISTING: Ministry, "(Everyday Is) Halloween"