Surprise...

...I don't like Halloween anymore.

I can't eat the candy; kids don't trick or treat anymore because their parents are sure every other person is a pedophile; the movies aren't scary (even though I sat through all the Old Reliables like THE TINGLER; REVENGE OF FRANKENSTEIN, THE WOLFMAN; FRANKENSTEIN MEETS THE WOLF MAN; HOMICIDAL; THIRTEEN GHOSTS; MAD LOVE; etc. etc. etcetera like the hopeless droogie I am when it comes to those things); it's too much trouble to dress up (why?  because there aren't any trick-and-treating kids, that's why); and I've lost that ghoulish feeling, whoa-oh, that ghoulish feeling, I've lost that ghoulish feeling, now it's gone, gone, gone...

I'm not even all that thrilled with the new AMC series I'm watching right now - THE WALKING DEAD. 

This isn't like me.  The old me would have kidnapped kids from a nursery school and forced them to dress up like ghosts and witches and vampires and ask for some fucking candy, dammit.  The old me would have dressed-up, decorated the place, played those tacky Spooky Sounds CDs and dared the kids to reach into the skull for their Milky Ways and Snickers.  The new (and not-quite-as-good-as) me sat around in a flannel nightgown smoking pot and ate sugar-free DeMets turtles, sugar-free Russell Stover chocolate-coated coconut bars, sugar-free Doves' raspberry dark chocolate (it'll still raise my sugar because they have lots and lots of carbs, but...fuck it...).

At least, my flannel nightgown was black with orange jack'o'lanterns and white ghosties and neon green skulls on it (KMart - Home of the Totally Tasteless Poor).

Oh, and every hair I have was waving to every direction in the universe since I hadn't bothered to wash, comb or brush it since getting up this morning.  Jelly made the comment that my hair was having its own party, and why weren't we invited?

Guess I was dressed for the day after all.

The new me did housework and laundry and made lunch and dinner and went through a bunch of shit I'd left here (Jelly's) to sort it for the trash and Goodwill. 

The new me is as exciting and provocative as a mud puddle.

The new me is a noisy space...