So here we are on Halloween. It’s the first full day I’m back in the country after the honeymoon, and I’m sad to report that The Husband and I don’t get his kids for the holiday, so there’s not a lot of happy dress up talk going on in our house. While I am very sad not to have the kids, I am slightly less sad that I don’t have to go through the angst of coming up with a Halloween costume. I find this incredibly stressful. There is a tremendous pressure to be clever, particularly when one is a writer and/or claims to be an intellectual. It may be self-imposed, but it’s still there.

My default costume was adapted from a reference in the movie The Addams Family (teehee). I wear regular clothes (hooray!) and don’t carry anything special. When people ask me what I am, I solemnly reply: “I’m a serial killer. We look like everyone else.”

How great is that??
Continue reading Eek, What to Wear??