Halloween 2009

I don't think I'll ever really understand Halloween. Is it religious or pagan? Is it for kids or adults? As a kid, wearing a costume made me cry, and other kids' costumes scared me. Even now the idea of dressing up like a stranger perplexes me... who am I supposed to be when I'm in costume? A character? Myself? Which myself?

I walked around campus on Friday as confused as ever. On a non-holiday, the undergrads look strange to me. Half of them are wearing baby blue t-shirts and athletic shorts, and the other half look like a bad cut/paste job from an Urban Outfitters catalog. On Halloween, I figure it's safe to assume they're in costume. Maybe the Urban Outfitters kids dressed up as the school spirit kids to be ironic, and the school spirit kids wore the ugliest outfits imaginable to make fun of the Urban Outfitters kids. Or maybe no one was in costume and they all looked like they do every day. Honestly, it's hard to tell the difference.

I spent my Halloween drinking wine and eating stir fry with a French Kiss, a wild type Drosophila, Pumpkin π, and a guy named Luv. My costume was Bad Elyse-- which is a joke, see, because there is no Good Elyse. Hahahaha. Ah, I don't get Halloween at all.

Disneyland Nightmare Vacation

This blog got 50 hits yesterday, which sort of blows my mind. One of those hits was for "masklophobia." You may remember my paranoid post in which I lamented my fear of costumed people/animals. I hope that I helped you, anonymous masklophobia researcher, with your investigation of a phobia that has ruined Halloween and all theme parks for me and tens of other neurotic freaks.

A friend of mine recently went to a wedding at Disneyworld. This, too, blows my mind.
weddings + costumed characters = ELYSE'S ULTIMATE HELL
If you're my friend and you get married at Disney, I'll send you a gift and be happy for you, but I'm sorry, I cannot be a part of that. I don't even want to see pictures unless I've had a shot or two of tequila to calm my nerves.

Do you really want Mickey and Minnie on your honeymoon? Their unblinking, soulless eyes would haunt you during your most romantic moments, the shining plastic whites reflecting moonlight ominously within the intimacy of your Epcot marriage suite. All night long, you'll lie awake in fear of the gentle caress of a pair of large, gloved hands up your bare back... you startle as you hear the unmistakable sound of one oversized button slipping from its hole, then another. The giant head leans closer. You begin to scream uncontrollably...