It’s been six years, folks.
Six.
Years.
Six years that I have been waiting to once again celebrate Halloween in a climate where autumn is not “hey, it’s only 91 degrees today.” Six years I’ve been waiting to wear a costume without sweat stains. Six years waiting to be able to drink a hot toddy without spontaneously combusting.
And now that I’m in Boston, it’s finally happening. The leaves are changing. The air is crisp. The ground is covered in snow.
Let me write that last part a bit slower, in case you didn’t catch that:
The……………..ground……………….is………………covered…………………………..
………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
………………………………………………………in……………………………………………..
………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
……….snow.
Yeah. Snow. That white, fluffy crap typically associated with Christmas and Minnesota.
And not just any snow. Oh no. No, Boston had to have a Nor’easter, which is, as far as I can figure out, basically a winter hurricane.
Not that I’m complaining.*
But this does bring up a rather huge dilemma for me. All of my previous Halloween costume ideas are now kind of moot…especially since I am rather attached to most of my major digits and limbs. Which means I now have to scramble to come up with some new ideas for tonight. Luckily, I started drinking early today, so the creative juices are flowing.
So far, I’ve got:
Slutty nurse wearing a parka
Girl wrapped in comforter
The kid from “A Christmas Story” when he’s wearing the giant bunny costume
Slutty cheerleader wearing a parka and long johns
Snuggie representative
Sweatpants enthusiast
Huge sports fan who feels it’s appropriate to wear all their sports gear at once
Slutty Eskimo
Alaska resident
Girl wearing ugly, giant old man sweater but pulling it off because she’s awesome
Slutty slut in a slutty parka
And if all else fails, my last resort is drunk girl who is drinking until she can’t feel anything anymore.
Happy Halloween, everyone!
*Disclaimer: According to the contract my husband forced made me sign, I’m not allowed to complain about the cold or any other kind of weather in Boston since I used up all my wifely “bitching about the weather” tokens in Texas.
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