What It All Comes Down To, My Friends

My brother used to get so annoyed with me that I didn't care enough about my things. 

In the 90s, I drove around in a Toyota with a broken tape deck (Alanis' angry Jagged Little Pill probably broke it) for months before he scolded me.  "Sissy!  You have been driving around in SILENCE all this time?  Listening to NOTHING?!"

Yes.  Yes, I was.  My thoughts keep me company and since I'm a worrier/internalizer/former caffeine abuser I was never lonely.  Many, many of the thoughts to keep me company.

He'd get on me about my closet, too.  Yes, my brother had more fashion sense than I did.  Still does.  He never has on dirty shoes if he's not going to work.  My Sauconys are over a year old and thinning about the inseams like crazy.  I'd have to ask his wife but I'd bet she has to give him ample hair checking time before they go out to dinner. 

Don't even get me started on pegged jeans.  Oh my God, I die at the memory of him making me decide which peg looked better.  As if either one looked cute.  But I stared, tilting my head convincingly and lied about one of them being much sounder in roll and tuckness.  It was the only way to get him from behind the hallway mirror.

Many times since then have I thought about what a poor carer of things I am.  I love my people, my doggas, my camera, my iPad but that's kind of it.  Things just don't get me the way Sadie's frosty eyes do.  My shoes never lick my earlobes.  The last time any of my scarves kept me up giggling is for another post blog altogether. 

So, you see where I might have a real deficit at decorating.  My house.  My children.  Myself.  It's just hard.

Then holidays come around and there's this competition of doorways in neighborhoods that subconsciously makes me feel like I'm not playing the game right with only a Welcome mat.  And let me tell you what the south does, you guys.  They DECORATE.  Very Very well they decorate.  So, I strap on some gumption and give it a go.

This is what happens when I decide we need a little something special for Halloween. 

Dollar General meets Perhaps Just Give Up Next Year.

I mean, it's not even cohesive.  Why is November Scarecrow near October witch? 

And what the balls is with the weird black pantyhose draped all fat on one side and "oh well" on the other? 

Also, they were only a dollar each.  Why not spring for more fake pumpkins? 

What does your Halloween décor look like?  Do you have inflatables and puffy wreaths?  Did you carve pumpkins and hang scary liners on your windows?  Will you play creepy music during Trick or Treat?

I want to do all of that one year, too.  Just not this year.  This year I have "one hand in my pocket and the other one hailing a taxi cab." - A. Morisette