I hate fake holidays.  I hate it when people even call them “holidays”; there are no days off sanctioned by anyone indictating in any way that these days are “holidays”; they’re more excuses to get drunk and eat poorly and be slutty.  I hate them.  The two biggest villains for me are St. Patrick’s Day and Halloween.

Halloween is tomorrow.  And it irritates the hell out of me.

Today, I was walking around the university campus in the rain, in the dark, and I saw people roaming around, drunk and obnoxious in their Halloween costumes.  Alright, alright… that’s unfair.  And dressing up in costumes is kind of fun.  But Halloween itself isn’t.  There’s just something about it.  There’s this bad vibe I get every year, much like St. Patrick’s Day.  I always get the feeling every Halloween that something is going to go horribly, catichasmically wrong.  And I’m usually correct in that assumption.  Last year, when I felt like I was going to die and embarassed the hell out of myself, lying on an essential stranger’s bathroom floor, I thought to myself, honestly, even in my drunken state, “NEVER again”.  And right now, I just have this kind of ill feeling in my stomach, kind of like a dull sick dreading pain– about the needles, about other things beyond my control (of course), about this stupid “holiday”  that everyone goes absolutely mad over for no apparent reason.

It’s so icky to me.  There’s a feeling associated with Halloween for me that indicates that hardships are JUST beginning (even though for the rest of October, hardships were FINALLY at bay).  I just know it.  And I feel nothing but raw hatred over it.  The “holiday” is overrated, stupid, loudmouthed and hardly worth looking twice at.  And yet, of course, it’s the biggest deal on earth.

While working on Fort Edmonton Park’s Halloween Spooktacular event, I was told by the special events coordinator that Halloween is “a multi-billion dollar industry” in the United States.  GOD.  And then there’s costume stores and candy and ideas and baking and decorations and alcohol and slutty nurses and cops and that “you’re obligated to participate” feeling because of all this monetary and ‘party atmosphere’ backing drives me insane.  I. Don’t. Want. To.

Maybe I’m a stick in the mud, or this is a pointless and entirely angry rant.  Maybe… maybe I’ve had it up to here with Halloween and everything associated with it and the tumultuous events in my life that decided to occur at the very moment that Halloween fell upon me.  Woe, woe, woe.

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