Happy Halloween, that is.
Well, it’s here. And it’s on a Friday this year, which means all kinds of mayhem in downtown Chapel Hill. When I was growing up here, I always went to Franklin Street (our main drag, which runs parallel to the UNC-CH campus) for Halloween. It was just What You Did. Back then we went to look at the costumes the college students came up with (I remember a lot of pregnant nuns, for some reason) and to hang out before we headed off to our own parties, stuff like that. That was when Halloween wasn’t such a big deal here. Sometimes, they’d shut off the street if the crowd got big, but that was usually a last resort. Well. Things are different now. In the last six or seven years Halloween has become HUGE here. People come from all over the country. They barricade the street, tow any and all cars to protect from vandalism, and bring in hundreds of policemen. This year, they’re expecting about 75,000 to 80,000 people, because it’s a Friday night and people don’t have to work tomorrow. Yikes.
I always wonder if I’m missing out by not going. Then I think, “Well, no.” I mean, I did Franklin Street for years. I have stories that would make your toes curl, none of which I will share here, however. And while it does make me wistful to remember those days, I don’t really want to relive them now, at 33, when I’d be all like “Oh, it’s so crowded, and someone just elbowed me in the gut, and I’m tired, and where did my husband go?” And I would be like that, because I’m just a big nerd these days. So I think I’ll just stay home and eat the rest of my Snickers bars and watch a scary movie (although NOT the Shining, which is the scariest movie in the world to me, so scary that I only ever have been able to watch it in broad daylight. To borrow a phrase from Owen Meany, it gives me the SHIVERS).
In other news, I watched some of The O.C. the other night, just to see what the hype was all about. (Or, as my husband calls it, “The Ock.”) I can see the appeal, I guess. But there seems to be an awful lot of dramatic pauses and mournful staring, especially from that Ryan guy. Does he have any other expressions? Or maybe the episode I watched was just really dramatic. Entirely possible. I mean, I can’t talk anyway, as I was addicted to 90210 for years, even after everyone else stopped watching it. Maybe I’m just getting old. In fact, this entire entry seems to support that.
Well, no better way to deal with that than to put on a pumpkin wig and go out in public, which I have to do this morning. Who says I’m not wild and crazy?
(Okay, so a few people might say that. Or a lot of people. Or, everyone.)
Have a good Halloween everyone!