This may come as a surprise to many of you.  The more people I’ve told about this the more I realized that I probably needed to explain myself.

I don’t like costumes.  Mascots terrify me.  Clowns are the devil.  I don’t want to dress up.  Its a miracle that I get up everyday and put on my “Professional Sherry” costume.  And I am not going to lie – there are a lot of days that I don’t even manage that.

My fear exists on several levels.

First, I think people willing to put on costumes like Mickey Mouse or Daffy Duck are probably pedifiles.  Or at the very least really, really weird people.  I don’t want to be around that.  Characters that sing and dance and talk funny are not natural.  They have always scared me and they always will.  Don’t try to convince me otherwise.  They are just down right freaky and I don’t want anything to do with them.

Second, Halloween scares me.  Not the scary haunted houses or the ghosts or pumpkins… although those are scary.  Just the idea of not really knowing who you are talking to.  Adults dressed up as something else is just bizarre to me. And guys, calm down… she will NEVER put on the slutty nurse costume again.  She wore it once.  Because her friends dared her to… she isn’t a slutty nurse.  Kids dressing up I get.  Its so cute … little lions, and pumpkins, and bears and lobsters… those are adorable… but past a certain age you just look awkward and a little bit uncomfortable.  And frankly, there is good TV on and all that doorbell ringing keeps interrupting my shows. 

Third, mascots are terrifying.  I have no problem with the real deal.  I will stand next to Bevo, or Ralphie or Reveille… but put me next to Pork Chop that motorized pig from Arkansas and I will faint dead away.  I can’t explain it, but it just isn’t natural.  It scares the shit out me.

I have dressed up for Halloween once in my adult life.  I was an ovenmitt.  It was awesome.  Marla’s mom has pictures.  There was even a freak cold front that blew in that day… all the slutty nurses, and slutty maids were freezing.  I was toasty warm in my giant ovenmitt costume.  I did it to prove a point, to prove that costumes were ridiculous.  That plan backfired.  The ovenmitt was a huge hit.  A pain in the ass to drive in, but a huge hit none the less.

So, as we approach Halloween, I felt it right to let my public know that you won’t see me shopping for a costume… slutty or otherwise.  You won’t see me dressing up with a knife sticking out of my head and you won’t see me on the sidelines with Rowdy (that annoying guy that is the mascot for the Cowboys.)  However, you might just catch a glimpse of me as I run home to turn off the lights and lock the doors before anyone knows I am home.

Happy Halloween.