TGIF - Ah, Laughter!

This morning I woke up in a not-so-good mood. Not a bad mood, really, just not good. After another night of little sleep (which my doctor assures me will improve by taking a Benadryl every night--what???), I just didn't want to get up and start work (even though my job is just downstairs, and I can wear pajamas if I want to).

So, sitting down at my computer, I still couldn't bring myself to start working. I did my daily check of family and friends' blogs before settling in for work. Somehow I ended up at the blog of someone I don't even know and found this HILARIOUS story. It caught my eye because it starts out with "I don't like Halloween." I literally laughed out loud for a long time (Gene was taking the girls to school and I was all by myself). And when I read it again, I laughed more. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. If not, . . . WHATEVER! It's funny!

I don't like Halloween. I never really have. Even as a kid I found it very hard to decide on what to be. And I always opted for a run-of-the-mill cowboy or pirate. And even these simple costumes annoyed me by the end of the night: an eye patch became a sweaty burden; make-up dried on my skin; some garment inevitably made it difficult to walk. This list goes on. And then there were the two years, 9 years apart, where I thought I'd had it figured out.

1977 saw me cultivating a true love of KISS. And for Halloween I thought I'd go as Peter Criss, the drummer, whose character was a cat (for those of you not in the know, KISS wore full-face stage make-up and lots of leather during the 1970s). Of course, I didn't have leather, or real boots back in 1977, but I did have long hair and my mom's make-up. So, with Mom's help, I donned a dark shirt, a denim jacket, blue jeans, and her boots with the tops adorned in tin foil. And, of course, the make-up. And off I went to the Ella B. Allen elementary school Halloween party.

There was, of course, a costume contest, and all the kids got in a line and traipsed across the stage a couple of times. The judges then announced the five finalists: "The Princess, The Dragon, The Butterfly, Puss-in-Boots, and Sir Walter Raleigh. You are the five finalists. Please stay up on the stage." So, I lost. No big deal. I turned and started to walk off stage. "Where are you going?! You're one of the finalists!" "No I'm not," I said. "Yes! Puss-in-Boots!" My face turned a little bit red, I hung my head a little and muttered something like "I'm not Puss-in-Boots."

"He's in KISS!" said a mystery voice from the audience. "Oh, I'm sorry! Oh well, you still need to get back on the stage." So there I was, demoralized, embarrassed, emasculated even (there's irony in that one). I ended up losing, of course. But that right there convinced me that Halloween costumes were for chumps.

I LOVE to laugh!