Ok, so….what’s a dork’s favorite holiday, you ask? (Christmas doesn’t count) The one day of the year when one is actually allowed….nay, encouraged to let one’s inner dork become one’s outer dork?

HALLOWEEN, OF COURSE!!

This one takes place back in my college days…..*cough* years ago. Apparently, weeks before, I had done something stupid like go out with wet hair, or forget to take a sweater, or something, and just like mom always warned me, the worst happened: I caught bronchitis.

Well, clearly I only had myself to blame, so I took my antibiotics like a good little camper and officially diagnosed myself as well enough to go to The Thing That I Had Been Looking Forward To For A Month:

the big, off-campus Halloween bash being given by some badass upper classmen. Huzzah! I was in like Flynn.

Now I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t interrupt my own storytelling at some point just to throw in a random factoid or two….(after all, as my partner in crime likes to tell me, I can’t just *tell a story*….I have to *bombard you with facts and really put you there*….it’s not the getting there, it’s the journey…and anecdotes are no exception….)

So! Random backup factage! I like to really go all-out for my costumes, and think about how I can outdo myself each year. I’m also rather proud of some clever ideas for friends. One year a friend nearly gave up on a brilliant ‘toothpaste tube’ idea since she couldn’t go out bareheaded and the night before Halloween, I was inspired…..it was heavy, but that lampshade looked *just* like a toothpaste lid. Go, me!

The year before *this* little gem took place, I had gone as Smurfette. Not willing to do anything by halves, I found the most hideous deep blue eyeshadow I could, and coated my whole face and neck with it. My face having a slight greenish hue for nearly a week afterwards despite scrubbing with everything short of steel wool was a small price to pay. I looked fabulous!

And ok, perhaps a few professors asked me that week if I was feeling alright…I did have quite the pallor going. The best part was one day when I looked at my philosophy prof after he asked me “are you ok?” and totally deadpan I answered “Yeah. I’ve just got really bad motion sickness.” He kind of went “Ah” and nodded like that was the most natural answer in the world. As if our class was held on a schooner. Or something.

Where was I?

Oh yes, my costume. Well, maybe since I had been sick, maybe I was just feeling lazy that year, but I decided to go with being a giant Christmas present. Don’t get me wrong….I went all-out decorating the thing, but it was still just a big square box given to me by a spoiled rotten friend whose parents had just bought him a giant ass tv to play nintendo on in his dorm room. But I’m not bitter.

Ahem. Anyway, I wrapped that puppy up in red foil wrapping….I didn’t want a bunch of *gasp* LINES all over me so I actually sprang for some big rolls of that metallic deep red stuff. And I sprang for the metallic green roll to make the ribbon with. And I got the biggest damn metallic green bow I’d literally ever seen. I looked magnificent!

Except that I resembled a big wrapped box with legs and arms sticking out of it. I decided the bare-head thing was again a factor, so I went one better and made a smaller box….green with red ribbon, and a big red bow on top, which I tied with yet MORE ribbon under my chin.

NOW I was in business. Huzzah!

Oh, I was so excited. My roomies and I trudged through endless mud puddles and talked about how great this party was going to be. It was going to ROCK! (we didn’t spell it ‘rawk’ yet at that time)

On and on we trudged…..to the edge of campus and beyond…..as I huffed and puffed and tried to pretend I was still all jacked up when really what I wanted was to take a breather for a minute but how can you sit down when you’re wearing a giant box?

So on we went.

I suddenly wondered if I was as ‘over’ the bronchitis as I thought. This walk was kicking my ass. I had 3 days of antibiotics to go. Hmmm. Nevermind….here we are! At last! THE PARTY! Yay!

In we go to the seething throng of people and all I can say is that even when you’re wearing a box, it is HOT. We made our way over to the punch bowl, and poured ourselves some of that scary-ass (and not in a good, Halloween-y way) orange punch with foamy bits of sherbet in it that melted about 4 hours ago floating around and thought ‘Yummers! Sign me up!’

Apparently we weren’t the only ones who thought this was THE party to be at….within minutes our group of 5 became 2, and I was actually glad that the big-ass box forced me to have a bit more than elbow room. We *still* haven’t found Cheryl.

Time passed and I was on my second Solo Cup of Mystery Punch when all of the sudden I started to not feel so good. Like at ALL. And I was more tired than I’ve ever been. If I could just find a quiet corner maybe……

I told my one remaining comrade where I was headed…pointing vaguely to a perimeter as she nodded, and I ‘boxed’ my way over to it. But again, how does one sit down in a box? I had to think fast since the house started to revolve and I *so* did not want to fall down in a box.

I made it to the wall and just sort of….slowly…slid down it until I was crouching in the box. I pulled my knees up (it was roomy enough for this, thankfully)….pulled my arms in from the armholes and held onto my knees, and tucked my head in. My ‘headgear’ slid back a little bit but at that point I was beyond caring.

I was hot, I was still sick, I had no business being out, and no one had told me that hey! guess what! those strong antibiotics and alcohol are *not* a good combination.

Now I’m honestly not even sure at this point if I passed out or just fell asleep in record time, but I do know I was not in the land of the conscious and that some time passed.

I know this for a fact, because when I finally woke up/came to/felt like someone had emptied a bucket of sand into my mouth, I tenderly raised my head…..and heard a bunch of unholy screaming. I was so disoriented and freaked out that I did my best boxing clever move yet and tried to spring to my feet. (like a…dare I say it? Jack-in-the-box?) All that managed to do was send about a dozen drinks flying. WTF???

Turns out people milling around me mistook me for a decorative end table. All *they* saw was a little box on top of a big box….and they started piling their drinks on me in table-like fashion.

The only thing I heard distinctly above the screaming was some girl going “OHMIGAWD! There’s someone IN there!” Good to know all that tuition money wasn’t wasted on her!

And I can honestly say that to my knowledge, that is the one and only time I have been mistaken for furniture.

What’s your favorite costume?

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