i declare war on halloween

i went costume shopping this afternoon. i was psyched. i had a coupon for $10 off at party city, found the costume i wanted from them online, and was sure that since i was going relatively early in the season sizes wouldn't be an issue.

it was nothing short of a trainwreck.

first off, the store didn't even have the costume. and it took me 30 minutes to figure that out because they had pictures of their costumes on a wall. a wall that had pictures of probably a hundred or so pictures. nothing irritates me more than when a store doesn't have the same product as it does online and they don't say it. is it so hard to put "online exclusive" in the description? look, i just did it for you. copy and paste it.

all was not lost. i spotted two slutty inmate costumes and thought that with my recent run-in with the law, this would be perfect. well they didn't have one in my size and the other one was a medium/large. not a good sign, but i tried it on anyway. horrible. i was sporting quite the offensive camel toe. and i couldn't zip it up. disheartened, i left the store and went to the next one.

this store was bigger, but the selection blew. they only had 4, at the most, of each costume and most only went to a medium. then i spotted the female harry potter costume in a large. i had to try it on. here's what it looks like


notice how the skirt covers most of the ass, leaving only a little bit of under-butt cleavage. well, this was not the case for me. it fit just fine. if it were meant to be worn as a shirt. the bottom of the skirt was at the top of my ass.

now, i've never thought that i had a particularly long torso. clearly, i've been wrong about this my entire life. obviously, i have a huge torso, according to the manufacturers of overpriced, wear-one-time-only, cheap pieces of cloth. thanks guys, you're making me hate halloween.

instead of entirely losing my cool and swearing off halloween forever, i've come up with a brilliant solution. every chick goes as a slutty something. slutty nurse, slutty witch, slutty taxi driver, slutty clown (i wish i were joking about that one. i am not) this year, i am cutting out the middle man. i will not be a slutty anything; i will just be a plain old slut. my own personal "fuck you" to the costume industry.

i'll get more drinks wearing lingerie, than what the slutty alice in wonderland will get. it clearly says "if you buy me drinks, i'll probably let you see my boobs" whereas, slutty strawberry shortcake says "buy me drinks and i'll make you think you're banging a 6 year old because i have an unhealthy fetish/obsession with my childhood" because really, dressing up like a childhood icon is just a mild form of pedophilia.

or at least that's what im telling myself to feel better about this whole ordeal.

i thought the past was supposed to stay in the past

in the span of a week, i get contacted by two former flings. the very two i thought i'd never hear from again.

what.

the.

fuck.

i could be your heroine

friday night.

ok it's actually saturday morning.

whatever.

interesting night. apparently i looked hot enough that a female bartender bought my first drink. but more importantly, i looked hot enough to convince the heroin addict to hit on me again.

after nearly a year of not speaking. he comes up to me and offers his number again. like nothing happened. to him, i'm sure nothing is exactly what happened. he never convinced me to fall for him, against all my inner warnings. he never made me fear for my safety. no, none of that ever happened.

so i accept his number. i agonize over it, thinking what does it mean? because it has to mean something. it has to. why of all the nights he's seen me out....why does he choose tonight to start things up? i pull at my hair, thinking this isn't fair that universe is doing to this me. i genuinely want to know that he's doing ok, but at the same time, i don't want that mess at my doorstep again.

i go home, turn the shower on. it's scalding. i let the hot water burn feeling into me. no, i let the hot water burn sense into me. i want to scream, i want to cry, but i don't. if i do, he wins. so i suffer, let the hot water attempt to blister my skin while the memories tear at my mind. this has to be a sign, doesn't it?

i get out of the shower. i lay on the ground and let my dog lick me. i look at my phone. i look at the trophy i've won saying "i won" the unspoken battle of wills, of who's doing better and who will cave first: his number. i look at it and promptly delete it.

then i learn that i look for meaning where there is none.

i'm supposed to choose my life path at 17? chyeah right

i talked to a friend tonight about our futures. we both went to college for 4 years (she went for 4 1/2, switched majors half way through) i'm contemplating an industry change, and she went back to school, only to quit again because she didn't know what to do.

then i realized that most of my college friends are absolutely exactly where they thought they would never be.

some had to move back in with their parents. i was in that boat and the only reason i moved out was because i wanted a dog. wasn't the smartest decision financially, but definitely the winner emotionally. i have friends who majored in public relations and mass communications and are working for citi group. i have friends who are still bartending to make ends meet.

my generation got the short end of the stick. as children, we were taught that we had to go to college to get a job that paid well. we were promised that we would get jobs immediately upon graduation, starting our journey to happily ever after.

that's really not what happened at all.

i want to know who mandated that if you want to go to college it has to be immediately after high school. why can't we be more like the europeans and spend some time backpacking across the world? it's like america collectively decided to be unhappiest place on earth. there was no war to draft our boys into and every girl was told she had to go to college, lest she become "just a housewife" and look what happened. a nation full of overeducated people and no jobs to give them. so overeducated that a huge chunk of them went onto post-graduate studies, further adding to what will be their uselessness.

don't get me wrong, i'm all for education. but doesn't it feel more and more like the investors and lenders tricked everyone into thinking they needed college, all so they could get paid? that they managed to convince people to ignore their heart? now the man who really wanted to be a mechanic and would've been great at it, is stuck wondering what the hell he's supposed to do with a philosophy degree and a minor in english lit.

i don't understand what's so wrong about that man being the mechanic he always wanted to be, but also is able to carry on a conversation about plato.

it's considered a waste of a mind. to be smart and have a customer service career.

but is it really? is the mind really wasted when it's happy doing something it loves, rather than just something it happens to be qualified for? exactly how far do/can you get in life with a degree that's essentially useless outside of elite circles? sure, you might know a bit more about greek and roman ruins than the average person, but that would just make you a pompous tour guide.