Abigail M. Schilling

Halloween overwhelms me because I feel compelled to have the coolest, most original costume ever. The compulsion only compares to the feeling when projects were assigned in grade school that required Visual! Aids!

Visual! Aids! were one of the only things about education that really spoke to me as a child and I tackled them will all my might. I may have waited til the last minute but my poster board was always light years better than everyone else's. (Seriously. One year, for my state project, I actually got a poster board (and by poster I mean particle board) that was large enough to include an actually life-size California state flag. There were over 10 feet of particle board. I am so the kid you hated.)

Anyway, the little state-project-girl inside of me awakens every October when the challenge of "best costume ever!" is dangled in front of her face. I have to be original! And funny! And home-made! My mother was always the home-made type; birthday parties were always in the backyard and Halloween costumes were made from stuff around the house. (I alternated between Indian and angel my first 8 years. My brother was always a pirate.)

For the last eight or so years, I've been on my own for costume creation. One year I was a student planner/handbook (I promise this was clever even though it sounds way lame). Another year I was one of the Fantanas (don't choo wanna?).

A couple years ago I totally wasn't even planning on dressing up until Jeni told me I could be a scientist because she had a jacket from work I could use (she taught science to first graders). She was a little irritated when I decided to be a "slutty scientist."

Come on. We all know that Halloween is "the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it." (c) Mean Girls.

Last year, I again was avoiding dressing up because I was way too busy to be creative. But Emily and Heather whined so much that I even ended up at a Halloween party (party side note: I ended up sitting next to a girl who was a "beach girl" and was wearing a hula skirt and a coconut bra. That's all. And she didn't stop talking. Ever. I regret that party.)

I'm Lord(ice) Licorice. Like from CandyLand. Uncanny, no?

This year I'm actually not too busy (turns out working full-time and not going to school is a much better situation than working full-time and going to school full-time), AND I have two parties to go to which will hopefully be devoid of any "beach girl"s. So I'm trying to be creative as possible.

On the table:

The silhouette from the iPod nano commercials.

Yup. That's all I got. Anybody got any other ideas? Anyone want to tell me that that's a stellar idea (idea courtesy Heather Anne)? Or that I need to lighten up and spend another year as an angel or an Indian to get some perspective? Because I'm putting way too much energy into this whole process. I'm refuse to bring particle board into this process. I promise.