Halloweekend.

This is one of the reasons why I love Autumn so much.

Yaaaaaaaaaay. It’s Monday. ::stands there deadpan waving a little flag with a happy face::. I’ve decided on a new life-ambition. I am now resolved to know as soon as possible, what it’s like to wake up in the morning and not know or care what day it is—like Grandma at the assisted living facility; “What day is it?” she asks, grabbing her walker complete with tennis balls attached to the feet. She then trucks forward without really paying any heed to the answer. Why she asks, I do not know… what day it is, is completely irrelevant in her case. As long as she gets her three squares and can roam around the retirement home and accuse the staff of stealing her cigarettes every day… She’s good. I want to be the same way… to be so unstressed by daily life, to be so removed from the rat-race-routine, that I have to freakin’ ask people what day it is—but still have no reason why I need to know because it’s not relevant to my lfie. Of course, Grandma also has pretty severe dementia and it’s getting worse, but I don’t want to not know what day it is because I actually think it’s 1983 and that my grandson is my brother or something… or find myself looking for my keys every three minutes and forgetting they’re tied ‘round my neck. No. I just want to be like those retiree bastards who travel around in their campers all year, or those rich SOBs that have homes in Fiji, and just decide right off the cuff to take a trip somewhere without any consideration to what bloody day of the week it is. I want to be one of those people who can’t differentiate a Monday from the weekend because my life is a big freakin’ cakewalk. That’s what I want. Yep.

Art in nature.

Halloween has come and gone, and once more, our neighbourhood is none-the-wiser of it. In the six years we’ve lived there, we’ve never gotten a single trick-or-treater. It’s probably because at least 45% of the homes on my street are seasonal or rentals… and also probably because 30% of the remaining homes with permanent residents are owned by childless retirees. There are a few teens in the neighbourhood, this I know because I see them in the morning standing by the highway waiting for the bus wearing skinny jeans with the butt halfway down their thighs and sporting swished emo-hair. I consciously force myself not to run them over because I don’t want to scratch up the Prius. I’ve also seen a couple of them walking by when I was out watering the garden, wearing really long black trench coats and carrying two-handed medieval swords. Seriously. Methinks there might be some LARP activity going on—or Sandy High School is about to go Columbine. But they don’t trick-or-treat, or if they do, they don’t do it on their own street.

The lack of children in costumes on my doorstep is probably due to the pitch darkness, the spookiness, the darkness, the quiet, the draping old-man’s-beard mosses, the darkness, and the super-darkness. Did I mention that it’s dark? I considered putting some jack-o-lanterns down the driveway to the front door, but then I thought about having to go and buy said pumpkins, and then carve said pumpkins, and then supply ourselves with candy which would likely be un-trick-or-treated and end up at length, eaten by myself and my husband… Not to mention having the dogs going insane every time someone showed up (if anyone did at all…) so I was like “meh.., whatever.. let’s watch my backlog of DVRed shows instead..” So I did. I can get all Halloweenish if and when we ever have a child. Then I will feel free to obsess and spend the entire month of September designing and creating the most elaborate costumes we can come up with for my child. But since that person is still but a glimmer in our eye, still pending on two more months of Clomid treatment (and hormonal imbalance) and possible fallopian tube-roto-rooterage… being curmudgeons with our porch light off is FINE. The kids can go find tooth-decay somewhere else.

I am happy for one reason… Halloween is gone and soon, the political ads will disappear. THANK GOD. Seriously, I can only take dead-eyed, grimacing talking head candidates spewing out-of-context statements taken from eight-year-old articles as proof of something or other, and making hollow promises to address and fix hot-topic issues just to get into office, only to do nothing about them once they’re there. I think it would be really cool if we could get this special code we could enter into our cable box when we mail out our ballots, and it would filter out all the political mud-slinging ads and pundits.  I think a lot more people would have incentive to vote if the action resulted in peace from the political media.  I am The Hungarican Chick, and I endorse this message.

Now it’s time to BRING ON CHRISTMAS!!!! Seriously, I saw my first Christmas advertisement last night. I think it was Sears. They get earlier every year. When I’m fifty, they’ll start ads at the end of June. These days, everything gets all Christmasified so early, that by the time the actual holiday arrives, I’m sick to death of it—and the hearing a single octave of a Christmas Carol brings my homicidal tendencies to peak levels. I’ve seen trees go up as soon as November 15th in some homes. I think putting it up after Thanksgiving is already pushing it… but hey. I’m a childless curmudgeon—maybe I’ll drink the Kool-Aid when I have my own child—but I hope to hell not. IKEA already had all the Christmas stuff out when I went last week to buy stuff for my brother… I’ll wager everyone else does too. Hell, they should just leave that shit up all year ‘round, and dilute the holiday completely. Because shopping for the holiday is what it’s all about. Yep… I love Christmas for its five-dollar sale-table items wrapped in paper covered in portly santas and Coca-cola logos.

We *might* do the Christmas Tree Train this year. It’s kinda spendy though. I confess that it was kind of fun when we did it last time. You board the old train at Hood River, and you ride up to Parkdale,(while being sung Christmas Carols), a lovely little town near Mt. Hood and there, you can buy a Christmas tree, which they will put on the train for you. They serve a buffet lunch when in Parkdale, and you can mosey around a bit and look at gift-shops. It’s really fun and festive. Hood River and the Columbia-side of the mountain is a beautiful area all year ‘round… orchards to pick fruit when in season, lots of beautiful scenery areas. Ahh… I love Oregon. Anyway, back to being grumpy… it is Monday after all….

I am definitely in one of my most grumbly Monday moods… I had a good weekend. I got to ride my idiot horse, and I got to sleep in BOTH days (a lot too), and I cooked rice and beans, and we went for a nice walk at the Wildwood Recreational Area across the road from our house. We took the dogs; who love such excursions, and enjoyed a nice stroll by the Salmon River. I stayed up late both nights too, reading the The Darwin Conspiracy, which started off fairly slowly but has been getting better and better as I go along. Haven’t finished it yet, but I do like it so far. :) I will not be nice at work today, I can already tell. I will work on an office special at some point, but lately I just haven't had the time. Toodeloo.