mnvnjnsn's Diary

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I am not that big a Halloween celebrater. I could even be considered a Halloween grinch. Generally, I'm not interested in seeing children dressed up, knocking on my door and asking for shit (the exceptions, of course, are my niece and nephew). Before we lived in a real neighborhood, we didn't have to worry about kids trick-or-treating at our apartment, because our complex was real-time scary all the time. No kid in their right mind would come near the place, and they were right to avoid it.

But now we have a cute little house in a cute little neighborhood, and we will have MILLIONS of trick-or-treaters. Ours is the kind of neighborhood people will drive their kids to. So now I have to go buy marzipan joy-joys mit iodine and be ready to have every movie we want to watch interrupted every 3 minutes by the doorbell. And we have to keep our black cat inside and away from evil teenagers.

I don't plan on having much of a good time tonight.

So, yeah. I'm a grinch. A bitter, snarly Halloween grinch. I'm not dressed up (though I did choose to dress slightly more unkempt than usual, just because I knew I could get away with it), I'm not making special cookies or cider, I'm not renting any special DVDs. I just can't be bothered.

So the question is, why don't I get into the silly costumes and the crazy kids? What the hell is wrong with me? I have a lot to be thankful for (though my thanksgiving entry will go into that more, I would imagine): a good home, a good job, the best boyfriend, the cutest cats. What crawled up my ass and died?

I don't rightly know. I've become anti-social in my old age, I guess. But hey, you wouldn't want me writing all sunshine and smiles anyway. That never makes for good reading.

3:18 p.m. - 2003-10-31


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