Nov 1, 2011 ~ loneliness tastes like nougat
Can we have ONE holiday where I'm not stuck alone in my house, on the verge of tears, eating my feelings? Apparently not. Halloween was very scary for me. Partially because I had to finally acknowledge that my neighborhood is completely unsafe for children, and partially because I was subjected to Nancy Grace’s cheese wedge bare thighs on Dancing With The Stars. Brrrrgggghhhhaaa…. Nightmares.
I stayed home all evening and waited patiently (read: pathetically) for trick-or-treaters. Got my hopes up (mistake number one) and bought FIVE BAGS of candy (mistake number two). I really should’ve suspected I wouldn’t have many, what with all the drugs and hookers and stabbings and stuff in my neighborhood, but eh, dare to dream! So there I sat. Like an old person whose wheelchair had been positioned by a window for those few precious hours of mandatory sunlight.
I waited. And waited. Hoping……….. for a knock at the door. (Felt like prom night the remix)
About two hours in, I finally got three little trick-or-treaters. Adorable! Two candy corns and a Mario Brother (or maybe two of Lindsay Lohan’s teeth and a Kardashian brother – couldn’t really tell).
I gave them the mother load - about a bag of candy a piece. One of the kids ran back to the car and yelled to his mom “THAT WAS THE BEST HOUSE!!” Haaaa…..yeah buddy - dat’s right. Tell your lil friends. You know where to come for the good stuff next year (I just realized that’s probably the same catch phrase used by the meth dealer down the street. Uh-oh).
So I settled in to watch DWTS. Tried to eat, but lost my appetite when there on my TV screen was death in its rawest form; Nancy Grace’s upper thigh. With all due respect to Jason, Freddy, and Chucky – you guys ain’t got nuthin’ on those tree stumps. That visual haunts me. Even though Halloween is over, let us be vigilant in our fear. For Nancy Grace is like Freddy – she’ll get you in your sleep. With a judgmental viciousness, she’ll interrupt you til you pass out and she smothers you to death. I’m not kidding.
Jiggle-a-jiggle-a-smother-a-smother-a…..hold me. Next holiday, please.