What looks one way from the left, looks completely different from the right. What is useful right side up is obsolete upside down. What sounds like a good idea at 10 PM, feels like a big mistake at 9 the next morning...
Halloween, much like Life, is all about perspective.
Last night I went out (some might say all-out), in support of this retarded celebration of the fact that I can buy my own alcohol. And that I no longer have a curfew. That beer has replaced candy, and that trick-or-treating is really code for looking around the room to see who you can actually stand the thought of waking up next to in the morning.
I thought growing up meant getting smarter...
I was very wrong.
This stupid holiday, at least for the twentysomething crowd, exists solely for the purpose of giving us young, sex-starved, beer-craving idiot freaks* an excuse to put on costumes, drink heavily, and then make bad decisions. With each other.
It's an opportunity to change who we are and how we see the world for a few hours and fuck up our lives in less-than-extraordinary ways with the perfectly acceptable justification of: "Oops! I was drunk, and it was Halloween."
At least, that's my excuse… Both for what I wore. And how I behaved.
See, I bitch to no end every year about how I get grossed out by the typical girly Halloween costume. Why be a maid when you can be a slutty maid!? Why be a unicorn when you can be a slutty unicorn?! Why be a bee, when you can be a slutty bee?! (Seriously, ladies... a slutty bee?) Anyway, this year I decided to do what everyone essentially does anyway.
I went as a slut.
I know. I'm so ironic.
My costume was a success (what a fun role to play!). Yet, while changing the lens through which you see the world (thank you, Bud Light) can be awesome for one night, it can make the next day more than a little miserable. So at five o'clock, after having been awake for all of three hours, I discovered that if I ever wanted to feel human again, some intense recovery efforts would be necessary.
My insides felt like a bloody Civil War battlefield and I guess taking a shower was going to be the Reconstruction of the South. But taking a shower is very difficult to do, you see, when the room is still spinning and standing up is not an option.
So I sat.
I sat on the floor of my bathtub. I stared up at the water from my shower-head five feet above me, beating down upon my broken, hungover body... and honestly, it helped. Tremendously. I realized then that from a new perspective, even something as ordinary as taking a shower can become a rebirth of sorts. Maybe even a cure for stupidity?
I realized sitting there that the situations we find ourselves in take on new meaning when we simply look at them from another angle...
I also realized that I lack self control, that I should stop drinking forever, and that I lack self control.
Need a change of perspective? Try three screwdrivers, two shots of So-Co (why, God?) and a couple of brews. That'll give you a fucking change of perspective.
One that lasts well into the next day.
Trick or treat!
*Life is also like a box of chocolates
**Notice how I expressly included myself in this group. I am a young idiot freak.