Trick Or Treat? How About Chill And Sleep?

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Halloween signifies one thing to me…. it’s time to watch Elf.  Yup.

I hate Halloween.  Really, I hate it.  I stopped trick or treating after fifth grade; and the only reason I dressed up past fifth grade was for the little parties with the younger kids at my old dance studio.

I just don’t understand Halloween.  I really never did.  I feel like as a child it was one of those things that I felt compelled to do simply because you’re supposed to.  But in actuality, I still remember all the annoying aspects of Halloween.

First, there was finding a costume.  Talk about pressure!  No one wanted to have the same costume as someone in their class, no one wanted to have a costume that was so last season, no one wanted to be something geeky or unpopular… I mean really, it’s like prom for preschoolers.

Then, there was the whole “schlep your costume to school” thing.  So annoying.  But, if you didn’t bring it with you for the Halloween party or parade shindig, then it was like twenty questions.  “How come you’re not dressed up?”  “Where’s your costume?”  It’s easier to just pack the damn costume at that point.

Then, after school there’s the whole trick or treat nonsense.  Don’t get me wrong, like most other kids, I too was excited to get free candy.  But I never wanted to walk all over town in the cold.  And wearing a jacket over your costume is just totally lame…duh!  And while you’re trick or treating you’re noticing every crappy piece of candy you’re getting and you try to trade off with your friends, but no one wants those stupid little boxes of Dots candy.  So then in the back of your head you know when you get home you have to go through all the candy and throw out what no one likes, and make sure everything is safe to eat (note to readers who enjoy trick or treating – if something is not packaged, throw it out!).  Plus, you have to factor in how you’re even going to collect the candy.  Those little plastic pumpkins – they’re sturdy but little.  The bags – are large but rip.  The pillowcase – just plain weird.  The big hefty garbage bags – those just always seem sketchy to me.  Again, as a kid, it wasn’t that I was against all this, but I was never so gong-ho about it like my peers.

As I got older I figured maybe I would learn to enjoy Halloween; then I realized what Halloween meant for teenagers…

For most teenage girls Halloween is the perfect time to dress inappropriately and not be called a slut.  Sorry to break it to you, but if your “slutty costume” resembles your normal wardrobe, you need to accept that you’re really just a slut.  Hate to be so blunt, but there’s no way around it.  And for most teenage boys Halloween is the perfect time to act recklessly.  Egging, shaving cream fights, silly string wars, more egging.  In their eyes it’s the perfect opportunity to act like an idiot.

So “Don’t dress up.  Go to haunted houses instead,” you might tell me.  Well call me crazy, but I do not enjoy being chased by some clown with a chainsaw.  I am also not fond of being lost in a corn maze where things and people are popping out at me.  I think life is full of enough scary things, so I see no point in voluntarily scaring myself.

I was never the girl who dressed slutty…ever, and I never got involved in any reckless acts.  I don’t like scary movies, and I definitely don’t like to scare myself for an adrenaline rush.  So instead, I’m the one who has to get up and answer my door for begging children who don’t even say “trick or treat” yet alone “thank you.”  And it’s still like that.

Seriously, just save up your allowance kiddies and buy a big bag full of candy you actually like, it will save you time, stress, and aggravation.  And then while all of your other friends are out begging for candy, you too can enjoy sitting on your couch, eating your favorite candy (that you didn’t have to sort through to find), and officially marking the beginning of the holiday season with a wonderful holiday movie such as Elf.

Excuse me but Buddy the Elf is calling me…

Strong Island

ImageA year ago today Hurricane Sandy hit Long Island.  Obviously it hit New Jersey and New York City as well, but I feel like the damage on Long Island was just sort of swept under the radar.  We were hit hard.  And a simple three hundred and sixty five days later, we have proven why Long Island is really Strong Island.

Everyone has this stereotype of Long Islanders.  We’re obnoxious, we say “Lawn-guy-land,” we’re loud, we think our poo doesn’t stink…. the list goes on for days.  But most people fail to see the strength it takes to be a Long Islander.  It’s true, I’m a bit ethnocentric, but I don’t think we get enough credit.

When Sandy hit we proved our strength.  It was so horrible to see towns flooded, houses ruined, items lost; but what a way to restore humanity when seeing people come together and help one another, even in the smallest of ways.

For anyone reading this who did not experience Sandy, let me just fill you in from my point of view…which was not even close to a real victim’s point of view…

Luckily my house was fine, there was a tree that fell in the backyard right into the pool, which led to my dad getting poison ivy, but that was the brunt of our damage.  However, the whole no electricity for five days was one of the most horrific experiences thus far in my life.  I know what you’re thinking, “What a spoiled little brat!” But really, I can assure you even though I’m disgustingly dependent on electricity (which I realized through all of this), it was a difficult thing for everyone.  Besides not having heat for those five days, you had no idea about what was going on.  We couldn’t see the news that people all over the rest of the country were seeing.  And listening to the radio can only provide you with so much of an insight.  The worst part though was the feeling of extreme depression that was so evident in every Long Islander’s eyes.  When were the lights going to go back on?  Is this going to ruin business?  Is (insert family or friend name here) okay?  How are we going to rebuild?  In all seriousness, it was overwhelming, and just plain scary.

But now here we are, a year later, and we have rebuilt.  Most people are back on their feet again, or at the very least on one foot with the other one a few inches from the ground.  We rebuilt as a community.  No one was truly alone.  Long Islanders don’t get enough credit, but we are full of such crazy strong people, who somehow all are able to unite in times of a crisis simply because we basically all share the same accent.  That’s pretty cool when you stop to think about it.

So, if ever anyone feels the need to badmouth Long Islanders, we Strong Islanders will gladly vote you off this Island.

We are intrepid Strong Island, we carry on.

To those who had to deal with an insane amount of damage from Hurricane Sandy, I hope you can look back at your progress over the past year and realize that by picking up even the smallest pieces, you have actually made strides.  God bless.