Halloween -- day for dreamers
October 31, 2003
Halloween, in all its splendor, is an eve of opportunity -- a night to embrace an alternate identity, act out a fantasy and live your wildest dream.
Specifically, it's a chance to revert to childhood dreams of exotic creatures and fairytale heroes. What college kid doesn't want to walk around with a Peter Pan complex at all hours of the night?
I was devastated when a friend of mine told me he "doesn't do Halloween." Instead, he is going to carry on a seven-year tradition of playing video games in the dark to repel trick-or-treaters.
What a tragic waste of an opportunity. My roommates and I, on the other hand, know how to hear opportunity's knock, welcome it to our party and hand it a drink. Our Halloween party, sponsored by Target, comes complete with fog machine, black lights and neon green spider-webs.
We don't skimp on the costumes either. On a recent trip to my roommate's Bellevue home, we discovered a treasure trove that excited us so much, we practically broke into the dance number from Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video. My roommate's brother's closet, a time capsule from the early '90s, was filled with baggy, holey jeans, jerseys, fluorescent-colored baseball caps and even a pair of neon-green-striped L.A. Gear tennis shoes. After an hour in this veritable breeding ground for Halloween costumes, bam, we were an early '90's boy band. We are the members of 4EVA, and are making our concert debut tonight.
We may be big stars, but not too big to help out the kiddies. We have a plethora of treats at hand, and four pumpkins that spell out "4-E-V-A" to greet them at the doorstep.
In order to milk the season for all it's worth, we even went to a corn maze and haunted forest. Walking through the forest, which employs a bunch of really scary adolescent ghouls, we were screaming and nervously laughing so much that our stomachs hurt.
In my average day as a college kid, I am more likely to spend my afternoons cracking the books in Suzzallo or doing laundry. Why wouldn't I embrace the opportunity to adorn an oversized jersey, a pair of boxers and assume a gangsta limp?
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