Since I've been so whiny lately, here a post completely free of anything pathetic. (Ok, probably the WHOLE post is pathetic, but you know what I mean.)
When I was 13-ish I dressed up like a carton of strawberry milk. It was my favorite costume of ALLLLLL time. That was also the year that I went trick-or-treating (yes, at age 13) to Donny Osmond's house. Except that Donny didn't answer the door and I'm not even sure which house was his exactly.
EXCEPT that one time I did actually see Donny Osmond walking down the street after a parade in Provo. And then my friend (who my little sister thought looked like a white Tiger Woods, which is totally irrelevant to what I'm saying, but I thought you should still know) said, "Hey, it's your boyfriend" and pointed at Donny. And then I was like, "What? That old dude?! Gross." And then he had to tell me who it was. Because obviously I'm not of the Osmond loving generation.
When I went trick-or-treating as a kid I was always afraid that someone was going to give me a piece of candy with a razor in it. That's what everyone kept saying - "Have your parents check your candy!! AAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!" And I listened, but my parents never wanted to check it. So I am really quite surprised that I lived through so many Halloweens without choking on a blade of some kind.
My mom made a skeleton out of old milk cartons and we hung it in our house for YEARS AND YEARS. We have a lot of pictures next to that thing. Also we would put flavored tootsie rolls in his "pelvis." Which reminds me, I hate the vanilla tootsie rolls. I don't even know why they exist - because no one checked with me on this.
When I was in 6th grade we would have "sock hops" during school. I dressed up like a mime for the Halloween one. And I asked a boy named Will Moser to dance. Will Moser, if you are reading this, the mime had a crush on you in 6th grade.
I am supposed to be sewing Halloween costumes at THIS VERY MOMENT. But I don't want to. Which is really going to bite me in the butt tomorrow evening when we have the "NICU Reunion Halloween Bash" and no one's costume is ready.
Which reminds me of one more Halloween-y thing.
We got an invitation a few days ago to my sister in-law's Halloween party. They're having it at their house which they refer to (on the invitation) as "The Newby House of Terror." I really like my sister in-law, but I have now vowed to refer to their house as nothing but THE NEWBY HOUSE OF TERROR. I really hope this one sticks with the kids.