Well, I made up my mind about Halloween!  For days I’ve agonized over what to do so I asked myself a simple question. 

“If I could do anything in the world for Halloween what would I do?”

The answer is simple:  I’d hang out with Megan.

Some of you may know Meg but most of you probably do not, so let me give you a little history of why she would be my ultimate party friend for any given holiday.  The saga of our friendship began somewhere around age 13.  I had pixie-short (OK, boy-short) platinum blonde hair, wore ripped up blue jeans and black t-shirts with funny sayings like, “I dress this way to bother you.”  Megan stood out in the crowd, literally.  She’s 6 ft. 1 or 6 ft. 4 when she’s wearing heels and she has an attitude to match.   I’m not sure how we became friends, but it was probably founded on the common ground of cute boys and after-school parties.

Most childhood friendships don’t last beyond graduation, but Megan has been putting up with my B.S. for the past fourteen years.  I’ve gotten her into more trouble that I should’ve ever been forgiven for.  When we were 21 she moved to Nashville to live with me and someday, we’re going to write a book together and make MILLIONS when we sell the rights to the movie.  I would like to go ahead and suggest that the part of Elicia be played by Drew Berrymore and the part of Megan would go to Mary-Louise Parker. 

In that sacred year that we spent together I can’t even scratch the surface of divulging to you all the good times that we shared.  However, I will share one.  I promised the story from the Slaughterhouse.  So here it is.

The night most likely began with a drink or two in the Boom-Boom room (aka our fire engine red garage, complete with bar and pool table).  It was a typical Friday night before Halloween, so I’m sure there was a death match game of eight ball between the two of us.  Typically it would be my job to run the whole table and then scratch on the eight ball solidifying an effortless win for Megan.  This night I’m sure was no different.  At some point in the evening we came up with the bright idea to go to the Slaughterhouse, one of the most talked-about haunted houses in Nashville.

We arrived at our destination and after purchasing tickets we were herded into a large graffiti painted waiting room with two dozen other thrill-seeking idiots.  When we reached the front of the line, the journey began with a 3 feet tall tunnel that we had to waddle our way through.  This alone was quite a sight with my incredibly tall friend leading the way, who was most likely wearing high heels and a skirt.  On the other side of the tunnel was a winding walkway with all of the haunted house staples: the mad doctor hacking up a patient, someone hanging by a noose and a Jason look alike running amongst the crowd.  Even I wasn’t scared.

We continued on to a closed door.  On the other side we found ourselves in a large room with many other doors.  Other people were coming in and out of them trying to find an exit.  We were lost in a maze.  At some point the lights went out and I turned into a five year old version of myself that should’ve never been allowed to watch The Wizard of Oz.  I hid behind my friend holding tight to the back of her shirt as she led me through a different door.  It was eerily quiet.  Megan was inching forward and suddenly she stopped.  I heard something to the effect of “What the…” She describes the moment of feeling hot breath on her face.  No small statement for someone that generally towers over everyone.  Then she felt something cool and metal prickle against her face.  At that moment a strobe light kicked on and PinHead was nose to nose with Megan.

She screamed.  I screamed and PinHead took an elbow to the stomach.  She spun around, grasped me by the waist and hauled both of our butts down a narrow plywood hallway.  The lights went out again, but Megan was still racing toward what she believed to be a door and PinHead was only steps behind us. 

CRASH!

Megan plowed right into the corner of a wall and came crashing down on top of me!  I thought she was surely dead and the wall had most likely become an exit.  We both clambered to our feet and somehow found our way out of there only to be chased from the building by a psycho with a chainsaw!

Megan was dripping with blood in a straight line from her forehead to her bellybutton.  Her hands and knees were scraped and I had a bruise on my arm the size of her palm.  I also seem to remember one or both of us having some torn articles of clothing. 

We spent the rest of the night on Broadway at a brewery trying aimlessly to calm our shaking nerves.  Megan was continuously asking me while hiding her battle wounds behind her glass, “Is it that bad?”   Yeah, it was.  She might even carry a scar to prove it. 

So, I’m off for another Halloween adventure with Megan.  Don’t worry, there will be pictures!

Happy Halloween!

My friend Ashley posted a blog last night about her favorite scary movies, thus I find my inspiration for today’s writing.  Please forgive any typos or rambling today as I am running a fever and my throat is practically swollen shut.  Thank God for antibiotics.

I HATE being afraid.  Therefore, I HATE scary movies, haunted houses and the dark.  Yes, friends, I (the Scorpion Crusher) am afraid of the dark.  I have always had an overactive imagination.  This is good for someone that would one day like to write best sellers, but I have to say it makes me a pretty lousy Halloween date. 

When I was a kid I used to put on my brave face and pretend to be a hard ass that liked to watch horror flicks.  I even remember claiming one day that The Exorcist was among my favorite movies.  I lied.  Now that I am a mature adult, I don’t care if you think I’m a pansy.  They scare the bejezus out of me.

When I was 15 my friend Brooke and I stayed up late one night with her brother who had a crush on me.  He was a couple of years older than us and it was his bright idea to watch The Amityville Horror House on their ginormous 913 inch television.  I wanted to impress him, so I pretended like I thought this was a GREAT idea.  I successfully made it through the entire movie without hiding behind any furniture or soiling myself.  Little did anyone know that I actually slept in the doorway of Brooke’s room that night because my side of her bed was too close to the window which I just knew was going to be infested with flies at any second.

Fast forward many years to The Sixth Sense.  EXCELLENT movie.  Shyamalan really should’ve hung it up after that one… I mean did you see The Happening?  Straight up embarrassing.  Anyhow, to this day I can’t even watch the edited TV version of The Sixth Sense alone.  The kid with his head blown off gets me every time.  And yes, it freaks me out that my bedroom is painted red and I’m constantly cold.  I haven’t seen any dead people yet, but I’m constantly looking.  Yikes.

Just a few years ago when I was pregnant with Will, Robert and I were vacationing in a teeny tiny little town called Clifton, TN.  As you all know I am well versed in making friends so we ended up hanging out with two other couples one day of our trip.  At some point someone suggested, “Hey let’s go see that Emily Rose movie.  I’ve heard it’s great!”  I don’t watch a lot of television except for the few shows I TIVO, so when I heard the “great movie Emily Rose” I was envisioning maybe a nice romantic comedy or something. 

WRONG.

Yeah, that would be The Exorcism of Emily Rose.  I literally sat with my coat over my head, rocking my 8 month pregnant body while humming to myself to keep from going into pre-term labor.  It’s been 3 years and I STILL can’t wake up in the middle of the night and roll over to look at the clock!  God forbid it might be the witching hour and I’ll have to go sleep with Canaan.

So, yeah, I don’t do scary well.  Wait till you hear about the night with Megan at the Slaughterhouse… that’s a whole separate blog.

5 Days to Halloween!   …oh yeah, and I settled on a costume.  Keep an eye out for photos!

Wondering what to do for Halloween this year? Hey, me too! For the past five years my All Hallows holiday has been done G-rating style suitable for my preschoolers. Well, this year, the kids are going out of town so I feel lost in trying to plan for the night’s activities. I’m no longer sure how to act like a single adult woman with endless possibilities. My newly single status adds a whole different BOO-factor to Halloween and the months to come. For the first time in a long time, I’ll be tackling the holidays alone.

For the past five years I have holiday-shared with another person. It’s been a Wes Craven-worthy nightmare trying to decide which set of in-laws to piss off on Thanksgiving. (Just joking Susan, sort of.) My husband and I had a system down, Thanksgiving in NC and Christmas in Nashville and the next year we would flip flop. It usually worked out OK, but it never failed that one of us was always homesick for our families. A lot of fights were spawned because of it. The upside to holiday-sharing is that you never have to worry about a date to a party. You always have the James Dean to your Marilyn Monroe, the Pilgrim to your indian, and the Santa to your Mrs. Clause. I’m realizing how very different this year is going to be.

Now that I’m a widow I’ll be spending my first festive season single. I didn’t realize how much this would affect me until now that my kids are going out of town and I will be alone for Halloween. We had our night all planned out to trick-or-treat at Johnny and Ashley’s. The kids would consume candy, Ashley and I would consume Bergman and the night would end in sugar-high, wine-buzz bliss. So with the turn of events, I am faced with options. I could stick to the plan and have a most enjoyable time with one of my favorite families or I could venture out on a limb and join other ranks of my peers to dress up and pretend that we are 21 again. I do believe that my dear Ashley would never hold it against me if I do in fact choose 2nd Avenue over Old Hickory. She’s a mom therefore she understands.

Somewhere deep inside of me is a single party-girl that is simply dying to go out. Party girl wants nothing more than to dress up as a mildly inappropriate super hero, complete with cape, fishnet stockings and knee high super boots. For one night I want to wage a war on the dwindling social lives of single moms everywhere and take Nashville by storm.

There’s only one kryptonite that might stop me.

I have no friends.

OK, I know that is a drastically unfair statement. I have PLENTY of friends who are probably very pissed off at me for even hinting that I am a loner. So, to be a little more specific, I don’t have many unattached, party goers in my circle anymore. Being that I am a single mom I always seem to be either one body short with my “family” friends or two too many with my single friends. Don’t get me wrong, I have the GREATEST of all friends on the planet and none of them ever make me feel left out or out of place, so I hope I’m not hurting anyone’s feelings who may be reading this. I love you all. But it’s a simple fact that most of my gang will be chaperoning little Princesses and Pirates around to neighbors while I am dreaming of Batman buying me something fruity and dragging me out onto the dancefloor. My other friends, the ones without kids, will be playing dress up with their significant others or flying home from changing the world in Peru or just avoiding the party scene because that’s not their style.

So what is Party Girl to do? I’m open to suggestion. I do have one party that I will be attending regardless of whether I make it anywhere else or not. I’m playing with the idea of getting all dressed up and finding new friends for the night, which is a high possibility of what I will, in fact, do. Or I might just play it safe and get silly with Ashley, which is NEVER a bad idea.

However, attention Tennesseans… what’s going down in Nashvegas this year???

And who should I be?