There’s something very existential about being hungover the Friday of Halloweekend. Here you are, making the same walk of shame joke you make every year when you leave a sister’s dorm room carrying last night’s tutu in your hand. Literally, every year. Always a tutu. Always referencing the same youtube video. Never mind the fact that you slept on your little’s couch and have never even been close to an actual walk of shame.
And then you’re sitting there in Barb’s waiting 15 minutes for your breakfast bowl special order with turkey sausage and egg whites (just because you feel like shit doesn’t mean you don’t have standards) and realize you’re even wearing the same sweatshirt that you wear every year at this exact moment. College is a microcosm of these weird moments of awareness. So when you’re sitting there in your sunglasses trying very hard to not move a single muscle because everything hurts, give yourself a little credit. 99% of my late nights are dedicated to homework, so what’s one more late night that I’ll actually remember fondly? If those memories make me blush a little, so be it. Maybe I’ll remember this one as the year I lost 10 pounds and stopped eating gluten and learned I need to reevaluate my alcohol tolerance. Or maybe I’ll just remember doing my hair and make-up in the Campus Center bathroom and watching my best friend/the ASULV president creeping out of the OSL and booking it to the car so no one sees her dressed like a bunny, singing Cheetah Girls in the car, and basically just totally nailing the Plastics group costume. I have a theory that this may only be fun because we can’t do it forever. It’s the knowledge that after this Halloweekend I will cross into the threshold of “adult Halloween costumes” and will have to accept that October 31st is not a month long phenomenon, which makes me completely okay with being totally basic at this point of my life. Don’t you think we work hard enough to earn a few moments of facing the world with no make-up and embracing the beautiful awkwardness of re-meeting people in the light of day, with no costumes or the same music that you’ve been dancing to since 9th grade dances blasting through the speakers? *Bizarrely spiritual moment*
Idk. Maybe we like costumes because the next day we get to be costumeless. Or maybe we just feel like looking cute. Either way, #awktober is coming along nicely.