Oh, my devil. Halloween has been over for more than a week, and I think I’ve finally accepted that my favorite day of the year has passed. After all, everyone who lives and breathes orange and black knows that Halloween is technically every day of the year. (Especially if you always keep up some of your decorations and put them on your Christmas tree…)
Every year, I start decorating for Halloween in August. I buy or make whatever fun, festive thing I can get my hands on and turn my home into a haunted, happy place. Everyone gets to partake in the haunted glee — my dogs and cats’ get toys (all of their birthdays are in October, duh). My boyfriend gets black cat decorations. And I typically add to my macabre wardrobe. (After all, a girl can never have too many skeleton skirts.)
While I’m bummed I didn’t get to do everything I wanted to this Halloween, I feel like I did have my fair share of holiday fun. I hit up the pumpkin patch, watched two horror flicks a day, made spooky treats, and continued my Halloween advent calendar tradition on social media.
Honestly, though, even if I didn’t get to do all those fun things that make me feel that I’m in the season, I’d still have a good time. Because Halloween is really just a feeling… just like Christmas and summer is a feeling. And let me tell you, I’ve known this feeling since I was a kid…
When I was a child I didn’t like horror movies (I KNOW) but I did love the changing seasons. Dressing up was something I did on a weekly basis, but there was something special about dressing up for Halloween. I loved planning my costume (and my mom’s costume) and had a blast picking out the candy we’d give Trick-or-Treaters. Swedish Fish, Mike and Ike’s and Hot Tamales were (and still are) my jam and I’d split whatever remained with my mom after the holiday passed.
I’ve always felt a bit of a let down after Halloween — even when I was a kid. So, this year, I plan on extending the holiday by celebrating Friday the 13th, making Thanksgiving just a tad morbid (it’s not exactly a happy holiday, after all), and by adorning my house with a lot of red (and a little green) this Christmas. And as far as I’m concerned, I’m going to make 2016 the creepiest year yet. Because if anyone can make regular life creepy, it’s me.