megfowler.com

Oh, Halloween.

I know so many people that love you in all your costume-y, chocolate-y, pumpkin-y wonder.

They plan their costumes for months on end. They stockpile candy like sandbags in a flood. They attend loads of parties where they show off much more of themselves than anyone needs to see outside of the boudoir, or put on so much fake blood that they end up with an awkward rash.

It’s a thing. A thing they love.

It’s not so much my thing.

At my office, however, lots of people love to get into the spirit of ghosts and goblins and Glossettes, so I’ve tried a little harder to go with the flow.

For example, my costume today was going to be Facebook.

I was going to pin pictures to myself, hand out random invitations for things no one wanted to try, glue tiny Scrabble tiles to my face, and loudly announce my status every few minutes.

Then I didn’t.

Oh, well.

Happy Halloween!

1. Rollerskate to hits of the 80’s in a twirly skirt.
2. Bake a cheesecake.
3. Ride a tandem bike around Stanley Park.
4. Go to a spa to get my entire body scrubbed mercilessly.
5. Try on ballgowns.
6. Make a giant brunch complete with strawberry waffles and bacon.
7. Go on the backwards disco ride at Playland.
8. Buy the perfect pair of black boots.
9. Jump on a trampoline until my insides feel jangly.
10. Sing with a jazz trio.
12. Take a nap in an ice hotel.
13. Watch judge shows on tv in my pajamas, making incredulous remarks in between sips of the latte someone brought me.
14. Discover the ideal tailored camel hair coat for $10.
15. Build a table with many, many power tools.

Ah, yes.

And what do you wish you were up to?

Still coughing, still congested, still bleah.

And I was such a good girl and went to the doctor this weekend. As my reward, I got a fairly odd/angry/disturbing physician at the drop-in clinic, and now I could have pneumonia, or bronchitis, or a bad cold… or maybe just a big nose?

What?

Any kind of antibiotics you want in particular? Do you have a favourite?

What?

I know, I’m not sure either.

BUT I AM SO DONE.

The smallest palm tree in the Hollywood Hills. When I sent my dad this picture with my phone, he texted back, “leave it there.”

I did.

So I may not have a tiny palm tree, but I sure as hell have questions:

What products do you use?

Why do you do what you do?

What do you love?

Well, I’m still sick.

And it’s getting a tad tiresome.

My voice loses about three words in every sentence, and I sound like a weird hybrid of E.T., Kermit, and Carol Channing.

I realize that probably addresses some sort of internet fetish, but I’d really rather not think about it.

I’m weary of the cough.

And I’m weary of how it deepens.

But I’m sure it won’t go any further.

Right?

But there are several hundred of you I’m waiting to meet.

Do share.

When I left the office at 5 o’clock to meet work friends, I had no idea what chaos would unfold in the space of an hour.

But I should have known, since I am me, and me = chaos.

And even if there is only an hour, I can fit the chaos in.

Oh, chaos.

And toes.

Oh, toes.

I’m so sorry I smashed you when I skidded across the sidewalk on a pile of wet leaves. I didn’t mean to squish you so thoroughly. But I did, just like I did last year.

The same exact way.

Oh, pedicure.

I’m sorry your OPI prettypretty was transformed into a mangled mosaic of leaves and blood and chipped sadness.

But thank heavens nachos awaited, only a block down the street.

Oh, nachos.

How tasty you are.

How I love it when you fill my belly!

But not so much my bra.

I’m sorry I let an entire chipful of your happy, spicy salsa escape straight into my shirt while I spoke to our new VP.

I didn’t know a chip could hold that much.

Sadly, I knew my bra could.

Thank heavens a refill of my signature perfume awaited only a block down the street.

Oh, Angel.

I’ve wanted to refill you for a long time. And so I did.

And the lady I bought it from was SO nice to me. She stuck all sorts of samples into my bag.

Oh, samples.

How I love to try new things!

Then I stole out into the rain to go home and oh, my.

Oh, rain.

WOULD YOU PLEASE FREAKING GO AWAY.

I consoled myself by giving all the samples a sniff.

Then I accidentally sprayed Covet into my eye.

That’s a little Old Testament for me.

Oh, Old Testament.

At least you spared me the locusts.

Seriously.

I haven’t even had time to buy warm shoes, and my only coat that’s useful prior to -10 C (I do own a down coat, partly because I used to live on the prairies, and partly because I always wanted to look like the Michelin Man) is a slightly ripped and ineffectual GoreTex thing from the MEC 1997 collection.

Granted, I’ve had other coats. I just don’t know where they went.

And I think I broke them, regardless.

Where do broken coats go? Can they find their way home?

Anyway.

We have a wind warning here in magical Vancouver, and it’s already been raining wee, chilly drops of anger for hours.

I find that the weather tends to go all CHICAGO IN NOVEMBER whenever I’m sick or about to be sick or trying to recover from being sick. And I don’t mean that it rains, because if I was sick every time it rained here, I’d be dead.

No, it just gets SUPER ICK every time I am prone to chills or a rattling chestal region.

So to you, Weather of Vancouver (which sounds like an indie band as yet unsigned), I say this:

HEY.

KEEP IT DOWN OUT THERE.

(really in no particular order)

1. Hockey
2. Oprah
3. The length of men’s pants
4. How women talk about other women’s bodies
5. Mainstream media vs. new media
6. Celebrity gossip culture
7. Mac vs. PC
8. US Politics
9. How totally pissed off I am by cliffhanger endings
10. Financial priorities
11. Activism
12. Ethics in sports
13. My arguing skills
14. Journalistic bias
15. The weather in Vancouver
16. Chatspeak
17. The relative talent of Justin Timberlake
18. Music
19. How men and women are neither from Mars nor Venus
20. Gun control

And you?