Saturday dawned. My room mate, who is exceedingly loud in the morning, woke me up at 9, and the day started. I met my friend at the Grundle, which is the local name for one of the dining halls, and after a long breakfast, went back to her dorm to watch the last bit of Scooby Doo, and then all of The Nightmare Before Christmas. That movie, for some movie, really got me into the spirit of Halloween. Well, enough so that I felt like going out dancing that night would be the perfect remedy for all my problems.
After one episode of Heroes, I called it quits and went back to my dorm. There the Halloween preparations began. I looked through my wardrobe, literally holding everything up to everything else, racking my brain for a costume. But the creative juices just were not flowing. No matter the match up, there was literally nothing in my wardrobe that could be used for a Halloween. Never did I hate having to fly to college more than at that moment. Stupid airline limitations on how much you can carry with you on a plane. Didn't they ever consider the implications their restrictions might have on a college students Halloween plans? Clearly not.
After an hour of racking my brains, I did the only logical thing to do. I gave up. I stopped desperately asking my suitemates for advice, and I stopped sending frantic texts. I simply grabbed a jacket, slipped my feet into some shoes, and went back over to my friends dorm room to hang out as he washed his clothes. It turned into a three hour event, with one of my other friends, Rebecca, coming down to join us, and Dylan and I ordering bad Chinese food. (Honestly, how hard is it to get good Chinese food in America? Clearly impossible.)
Later that night, Rebecca invited me to a rave that she was going to. I'm not going to lie, I was tempted. I miss dancing, a lot. However, the thought of a rave, as I pondered it, did not really fit my idea of a good dance party. Not to mention, I didn't have a costume (although we all know that that is just an excuse). And remember, I am slightly awkward. The idea of a party, where I would have to interact with a bunch of people my age, slightly freaked me out. I do better in smaller groups. Baby steps Sophie, baby steps.
After watching my friends transform into Hollywood stars (A Clockwork Orange person, Britney Spears), computer game characters (someone from Mario) and various other people and things, I waved goodbye to the group going raving, and went back for a quiet night of relaxation. Instead of getting my rave on, I watched Ghostbusters, a Halloween classic.
Many would say that this was a boring night, that I should be embarrassed. I disagree. This is who I am. I am a homebody. I don't like partying, I don't like drinking. I don't know how to interact with people my age in large groups. Yes, this is a hinderance, but I figure, as I am in college for longer, I will get used to it. For now, I can safely say, I am a homebody, and proud of it.
Happy Halloween.
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