I don't like Halloween and I don't know why. I love scary movies, I love magic, I love witches and zombies and monsters, but I don't like Halloween as a holiday. I guess I need my holidays with a little meaning behind them. Halloween doesn't have the normal holiday meaning. No freedom from British tyranny and religious persecution, no sharing of the first meal with the natives of a new land, no birth of a savior.
I've sort of gotten roped into attending a costume party this year and, surprise, I don't really like dressing up in costumes. This is the Diddy's Black and White Party of costume parties though, you must come in costume (Incidentally, what are we calling Sean Combs these days anyway?) So, I'm going to be a trucker. This is primarily because I got it in my head that the costume I would be most happy to wear would consist of a wife beater, flannel shirt and jeans. Add a trucker hat and a can of Skoal and you have a trucker. I know it's not the most creative thing ever and that, in fact, it is rather lame and possibly offensive to actual truck drivers. Also, no one will know what I am. However, I purchased a flannel shirt at Wal-Mart last night and there is no turning back now.