When my body became a daily horror, I gave up on celebrating Halloween. Costumes, makeup, and candy–all triggered mast cell reactions. As I struggled with the wicked end of mold and ragweed season, I told myself I was too old to enjoy the festivities. Life was all tricks, and no treats.
Well, I most certainly am not too old, because this year, now in remission, I wore three costumes and celebrated harder than a sugar intoxicated 8-year-old. It all started with a Halloween playlist, and then it quickly escalated to dancing and social media.
I had a few enablers like Dr. Linda Bluestein, who responded with enthusiasm when I hesitantly suggested we learn the Thriller dance.
I had so much fun learning Thriller and dancing with Dr. Bluestein that I picked up some cozy skeleton pajamas and learned the Monster Mash.
My best friend, Julia taught me how to apply lashes and a smokey eye (while drinking red wine), obviously requiring a more intense costume (and a red party light?).
At this point, it only made sense that I would enter my local AKC agility trial’s costume contest as Little Bo Peep with my sheep.
As I ran around the agility ring yelling I LOST MY SHEEP, I realized not only was I having a blast, but I was making people all around me smile and laugh. Halloween isn’t childish or unnecessary. The true meaning of Halloween is creating joy and laughter, sprinkled with terror. Isn’t that basically the mission statement of this blog is anyway?!
On Saturday night, I attended my first party in six years. I danced to salsa, West Coast swing, East Coast swing, reggaeton, pop, and Middle Eastern dance music until 1 AM, while taking breaks for water, champagne, Thai food, and cheesecake. When Thriller came on, I pelvic thrusted my way to the center of the room, past the doctors and professional dancers (apparently this is a common mix?) who I had just met, and someone gasped, “Oh she’s really doing it, huh?!”
Oh yeah, I really did it. And I can’t wait to do it again.