All posts tagged: Halloween

Masking It: The Night I Started Hiding Alcohol

After a six-month, self-imposed period of abstinence from alcohol, drinking crept back into my life — while I was in costume. It was Halloween night, 2009. I was dressed up as a hippie, with a long, blond, knotty-dread-ish wig (topped with a colorful tam) and a floor-length, swirly patterned dress. My husband (then fiancé), Andy, matched me as my mate in his own wig and Grateful Dead tee, and we brought along my old Cabbage Patch Kid to complete our peace-and-love family. I had also just completed a six-month, self-imposed period of abstinence from alcohol, which I was oh-so-proud of. The fact that I had been able to stay sober all on my own, without AA meetings, rehab, or ultimatums from loved ones, was a major accomplishment; one that I believe proved, once a for all, the thing I so desperately needed to believe about myself – that I was not an alcoholic. So after dousing ourselves in Patchouli oil (the scent of which stayed with us for days — don’t ever do this as …

I Don’t Fit In. And Neither Do My Halloween Costumes.

My motto for Halloween costumes is: If it fits in the car, it’s not worth doing. I go big or go home, and it MUST be made with my own two hands. Since I was little, I’ve loved making things. It doesn’t matter what – cookies, a sweater, a film. I was the kind of kid who spent hours alone building sandcastles on construction sites or crafting elaborate fantasy worlds inhabited by Barbies and Star Wars action figures. The kind of kid who devours a Nancy Drew in one sitting. The kind of kid you don’t realize is actually in the house until she shows up gushing blood from her head or finger. To me, these wounds were minor sacrifices in the pursuit of making stuff. So when it comes to Halloween, I don’t bother with your gypsies Roma, your bums, your girl in a poodle skirt. I was born to eschew store-bought costumes — partly due to my creativity and partly due to my weirdness. I didn’t really fit in as a kid. I spent hours analyzing …

The TueDo List: Get Spooky, Organize Your Life and Prepare for Day of the Dead

Lists. We make them, we need them, we love them, we hate them. Here is a list of some fun things to do, read and buy this weekend. And more lists — some of them even about lists— in case you aren’t full up. Halloween Adventure List It’s the last weekend before All Hallow’s Eve, so the main events in most locations will involve pumpkins, costumes, ghosts and that most important component of the holiday — sugar. Finding the fun in your town is an internet search away, but there are some highlights. Baltimore has one of the coolest lists of Halloween events I’ve found, as befits a city known for its famous son, Edgar Allen Poe. Time Out Los Angeles will hook you up out there. and if I could go anywhere, I’d pick the 41st annual Village Halloween Parade in NYC (Whoopi Goldberg is this year’s grand marshal). Wherever you are, we know you can find something fun, even if it’s mini-Snickers and a movie at home, because that sounds really fun to …

Witchy Poo: A Cautionary Tale

(Graphic: Kat Borosky/TueNight.com) One Halloween, when I was about 11, my Mom sewed me a killer witch costume: floppy, pointy hat, black cape and all.  I looked awesome and fearsome. The year marked one of the first times we kids could go door-to-door by ourselves. Yes, at 11 years old. These days? No way. This was maybe five years before the razor-blades-in-apples scare (which was so not even a thing.) Gathering up my friends Anne, Kathy and several others, we prepared to become sugar terrors in the quiet, preppy neighborhood of Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia. Our aim was to get as much candy as we possibly could. We were unleashed by ourselves, no parental supervision. We OWNED this damn Halloween. So without any sense of boundaries or discretion, we’d knock on our neighbors’ doors, reach into the giant bowls of wrappers, and lunge at the pile of candy like ravenous baby bears. Maybe we were more polite and choosy than that, but I’m pretty sure we were bloodthirsty. I kept an eye out for my favorites: …

If the Spirit Moves: My Not-So-Successful Séance Experience

(Shaker Meeting House/Shaker Heritage Society of Albany, New York, New York) The Albany Shaker Meeting House is a sanctuary of purity and simplicity, with the exception of the 747s from the Albany International Airport that fly overhead, and the Trader Joe’s that’s located around the corner. I am here for my very first Halloween séance. I don’t have any expectations, frankly, but I am a very willing participant. I am open to feeling the energy that comes from a group of people suspending disbelief and possibly tapping into something outside ourselves. And if I am being totally honest with myself, I am also hoping to receive a message from someone on the “other side.” From outside, the Shaker Meeting House is milk-white and austere with triple hung windows and wide pine wainscoting painted an evergreen color. Inside, there is a clear-span building the size of a small gymnasium, which is lined with built-in Shaker benches. On the floor, they have set up about 100 white plastic chairs in three concentric circles around each other. I …

Mom, The Costume: When My Daughter Wants to Dress Like Me

Dressing up is one of my daughter’s favorite pastimes. In her seven years, she’s logged a lot of sartorial hours. It started with Princess gowns, because when isn’t it a good day to be royal? Then came Halloween – kangaroo, fairy and vampire are her faves. And of course there’s The Dressup Bag.  A jam-packed pink canvas number that holds the aforementioned Halloween costumes, plus boas, scrubs, leotards, pearls and at least four tiaras. It’s a winner for almost any playdate. But it’s the Mommy Costume that always gets me. When out of nowhere trots in my little 4-footer donning one of my dresses or sweaters or nighties, invariably with a pair of very high heels. Sometimes there is also a hat. Occasionally, lipstick. It’s really, really cute. And, in my wistfully analytical moments, it’s a good reminder, too. For her, “being me” is fun. It’s still something to aspire to, up there with princesses and gold medal gymnasts. In those moments my heart aches just a little, because I really hope she always thinks …