This is the first year, in the entirety of my existence, that it has completely and utterly snuck up on me. I usually plan for it for weeks, sometimes months -- what costume I'll wear, whether I'll make it or cannibalize it from parts of other costumes, what I'll do, where I'll be... this would always be so exciting. And it still is. I'll dress in theme to virtually anything that warrants it. Frankly, I'm still cheezed that I'm not allowed to trick-or-treat anymore. It seems that fully-grown humans going trick-or-treating tend to be greeted with suspicions of being a mugger rather than candy. I much prefer the candy.
Nonetheless, Hallowe'en is only five days away, and I only just realized it last night.
But it seems like such an absurd holiday here. I mean, spring is in the air, so everything is fresh, green, and very, very damp. (But luckily, mould DOES wash out... hooray!) Nothing here is Halloween-ish at all, as we all know that the following are absolutely mandatory prerequisites for the holiday in question:
* the darkness falling earlier and earlier,
* the eerie crunching of leaves underfoot,
* the dry, dusty bite of cold, late autumn air, lightly perfumed with stubble-burning smoke,
* the thrilling suspense about whether you'll have to wear a snowsuit under your costume.
But it is nothing of the sort here. To be honest, I'm not even sure if they celebrate Halloween here -- it might be more of a Guy Fawkes country. On the other hand, I have never known Wellingtonians to pass up an opportunity to dress up, so we'll have to wait and see.