The only thing I've ever loved about Halloween

I've never really been a fan of Halloween. Even as a child I felt it was a whole lot of hoohah for some tiny chocolates and chips you never ate anyway. The only time in my life I ever loved Halloween was during my years at BU.

Halloween at BU is like nothing else on Earth. Yeah, you get dressed up, and yeah everyone goes out and parties, but Bishop's likes to keep a little tradition that makes Halloween a little more interesting.

This is the part where I find out if my mother actually visits my blog.

At Bishop's, on Halloween night, everyone does shrooms. I mean everybody. The only people who might not are the people who had a terrible trip the year before, and they usual come around again by Halloween anyway. I don't even like smoking pot, but I still took part in Halloween.

My first year I made the mistake of not really dressing up. My friend AnnaBanana was a vampire, so I dressed up as her victim, aka painted my face slightly white and put two blood-dripping puncture wounds on my neck. We ate our shrooms with pizza. I felt really mellow that year, and spent most of the night dancing with my friends from residence. We ran into another friend, who had been adventuring in the woods, and refused to part with his "Magic Stick", a giant log that he claimed had magical powers. I'm surprised they let him bring it into the bar.

In my second year, I dressed up like a honey bee. I wore all black and had a little yellow and black striped tummy, and big wings that were basically nylon stretched over wire, and I wore my hair two high braided ponytails with pipecleaner antennae sticking out. We ate our shrooms with peanut butter sandwiches, and I spent the entire time at our apartment before the bar laughing my ass off. I just couldn't stop laughing. Everything was hilarious. I even pretended to be a dog at one point, trying to make somebody, anybody, laugh as much as me. At the bar, I mingled around. I got kissed by a guy dressed as a nun, and was told by a British viking that I was "absolutely lovely". Then I got gut-rot and had to leave early. On my way home, some strange guy walking by randomly bit one of my wings, making a big hole in the nylon. It made me mad and I pushed him down the hill in front of the school.

In my third year, I dressed as an angel with a bright red wig. We ate our shrooms with Oreo cookies. I didn't make it out to the bar with everyone else - the costumes scared my dog half to death, and I got caught up lying down in the dark with her listening to Daft Punk. For what felt like forever. That is by far the best album to listen to on shrooms. Ever. Eventually, I hauled my ass out of bed, to find that everyone had left my apartment. I wandered to the building next door, and found some random people partying, so joined them, then I actually ran into Sexy Boyfriend, which was convenient, and we walked to the bar together. But then the line at the bar was way too long, so we went back home.

So, even though I dislike children (for the most part) and am not really into sweets (most of the time) and can't stand dressing up (unless I'm on drugs), I'm glad that I can still take part in the holiday in some way, in that I have at least some fond memories of Halloween.