the (real) perks of being a wallflower: (party of) one

Open secret: Halloween is an excuse for  15 year olds to dress up as legal adults.

Kingston’s Halloween parties are crawling with neon phalluses wielded by tiny lesbians and curvy brunettes wishing they were Mila Jovovich a la The Fifth Element. Also, an inordinate amount of dubstep. Which is good for nodding an appendage, but rather awkward to dance to. Alice and a couple ninja!white rabbits seemed to think so too because the crowd started calling for slacker music i.e. music with actual lyrics.

The first thing out of her mouth after the introductions are over is, “I thought you were over here doing coke.”

I like to think I imagined the hint of disappointment in her voice.

She shrugs over our bewildered laughter. “I mean this being Pilleaters* and all. And then she was rubbing her nose, so I expected to see it cut up on the table.

“Don’t do coke,” she adds. She points at her friend (who’s with us). “He’s gonna do coke.” We laugh uncertainly again. “Don’t let him make you do coke,” she says to his girlfriend, and then disappears to eat, drink and prop up a support beam for the rest of the night.

I have to wonder these days if people know that the point of Halloween as a festival was to scare ghosts away, not give them STIs. Or maybe evil spirits will be terrified of stronger spirits and the thought of a coyote ugly morning after.

protip: you should always know exactly what you’re drinking.

secret: no one ever does.

I believe you should have the kind of relationship with alcohol that always leaves you wanting more. Alcohol shouldn’t be the abusive lover; alcohol should be the mistress you call up at 3am when you’re alone and horny. Alcohol shouldn’t be the solution to your unhealthy relationship; on the other hand, if alcohol is your only unhealthy relationship then you’re pretty much golden.

But I’m just glad my mouth has stopped feeling like tequila’s bitch.

* –  names changed to protect myself from lawsuits.

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{27} Remember, Remember

There’s lots of things we think of when November rolls around, not just gunpowder, treason and plot. November means All Saints’ Day, Día de los Muertos (hat tips to anyone celebrating those lovely cultural days) Thanksgiving. And November means Christmas shopping.

All Saint’s Day and Día de los Muertos were observed yesterday on the first. I’ve always wanted to see a Día de los Muertos celebration; the idea of commemorating ancestral spirits holds a special kind of appeal for me.

That, and I really love dead people.

As a non-American, Thanksgiving is actually the last thing that comes to mind when I think about November. But it’s not foreign to my culture at all. In fact we Jamaicans tend to be hyped up on US culture (what with living under their thumb) and it’s mostly because of the expats and the tourists who pretty much live here. So when you walk into certain supermarkets in certain areas of town, Halloween tricks, Thanksgiving treats and Christmas toys are all up for sale.

In different sections of the store, of course.

November for us is really a transition month. In October we had (not Halloween!) Heroes’ Day, our local/cultural celebration. It’s like Founder’s Day in the States, only it’s a bank holiday as well. Then you’ve got Christmas in December. And we ex-colonies really love our Christmas holiday. So November is the month that gets relegated to things like clearance sales (so shops can stock up on overpriced Christmas gizmos), early Christmas carols (played by overeager radio stations) and a preponderance of Christmas cards (so you know exactly what to spend your paycheck on). It’s one big pre-Christmas jamboree.

November also marks the end of the hurricane season, so that's another reason to spend horrible amounts of money. (Read: celebrate)

And I must say I love the feel of Tropical Christmas in the air. The cooling breeze. The overstocked department stores filled with people spending more money than they have. The Christmas paadnas coming to fruition. The children who get to go crazy for two weeks before they get OD’d on worm medicine to go back to school.

Ah, good times.