tricks and treats

The boy (d) and I balance each other out in the Halloween universe. For every time he has dressed up, I have not. For every time he's gotten excited about Halloween, I have rolled my eyes. Even as a kid it wasn't a big deal that I would look forward to. More often than not, we had to wait until just about Halloween (payday) to even consider costume shopping. I don't have to work in a Super Halloween store to tell you how slim the pickins are on Halloween.

One year I was a boy. We couldn't figure out who 'he' was just that he was a boy and I was going to be him. You can not go shopping for a costume on Halloween and think things are still going to be boxed up or even cute. You're makin do what with you find. So I was a boy. Looking back now, he looked like the boy ghost in 3 Men and a Baby. Y'all know who I'm talkin bout and if you don't well, good for you. That's one more sleep filled night you have over me. The next year my brother was this boy. The year after that my sister was not the boy. She was still rocking a Hulk mask from years before. She'd rock this mask with street clothes or specifically, toddler street clothes. This mask was not a helmet of rubber and hair it was straight up a plastic mask (who's edges would cut you in a heartbeat) with the elastic cord to hold onto your head. There's this one picture of her where she's not so much wearing the mask as just holding it up in front of her face. I wonder, if as a toddler, she knew she was the Hulk.

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It was sixth grade that my mom was in the hospital with a blood clot by her lung. She was still laid up when Halloween rolled around. Dad had to step up, keep things normal and take us shopping. We knew he was capable, he was the only one who could drive after all and that meant something. But my mom, well she spoke better english and knew how to write checks. Also, she'd fight a little harder to find something decent for you vs. something cheap. With my Dad, I don't know, you just wanted to hurry up. No second guessing, grab your shit and stand by it once it's all said and done. No way would he want to tackle returning or exchanging anything. Too many english words I'm sure is what he thought.

Will and G are looking to me to step to our parents and secure this costume shopping trip (No YOU ask, you're the oldest...). Mom and Dad agree. Dad says he knows of a place in the Mission and he could buy lotto there too. We scrunch our noses at this but get excited. We're driving over. He tells us we're going to a different spot, not King Norman's (toy store). My doubts keep me quiet. He says, "Di, no it's a good place. I saw Wonder Woman, a nurse and some other costumes."

He was right. Not only were Wonder Woman and the nurse there but also Snow White, Elvira and a sexy referree. Dad had taken us to Foxy 9 an m-fing lingerie shop! I guess walking in there with his 3 kids in tow put it all into perspective. We didn't even make it to the back of the store (but Dad! I want to go behind those saloon doors!). He bought his quick pick lotto (yes, they sold lotto IN there!) and we bounced. He was as red as a brown man could get, as red as the vinyl of the sexy firewoman's hot pants.

Next day at the hospital, Ma laughed so hard we thought her clot would move to her throat.

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"I wear black on the outside because black is how I feel on the inside." - The Smiths, Unlovable

My eyes just rolled thinking how I stood by that, always had that line ready to go in case any square wanted to step to me and question my steez. I had the clothes but I didn't have the pale face that I thought should accompany this kind of wardrobe. My friend Anna did and it killed me how perfect it all seemed on her. Ma is filipino and Dad is black and filipino. It's written in my skin.

Halloween rolls around and I think this is the perfect time to experiment with make-up. I thought it the safest time to try a new look without much heckling from siblings and cousins. If my plan worked, I would rock this look from November 1 to infinity, or atleast graduation. Mom knew something was up when I told her I didn't want a costume, that I was just going to buy some make-up. Maybe she thought I was growing up.

I locked the bathroom door and dipped my hands into the white clown base. Yes, that's what it was called, White Clown Base. I wanted to put enough on to give me an all over pale. A kind of pale I could rock on a daily basis. So far so good. Having never really worn make up I wasn't surprised that it felt weird. Heavy and greasy but I was definitely paler so it didn't matter. Maybe I had some in my eye!

Night was a success. We tricked we treated. No one really said anything to me until we got back home. Siblings masks are on their head like umpire masks as we review and divide our candies. I'm feeling fine-ish. I notice that my face is starting to crack and itch. I don't want to but I wash my face...and wash my face and wash my face. It took a lot of 'expensive' hot water (as Dad would call it) to get it off and even after that it wasn't completely off. I had traded my new goth face for an old apple face! My face was red and irritated. Hives were starting to cluster.

Mom comes in and doesn't say much. We should be used to this. I've got mad sensitive skin. But she doesn't understand this was going to be my new thing! My new Jan Brady self! She hushed me and said, "You ain't ever gonna be pale. That's it, that's all. You could stay indoors for the next 5 years and still not be pale. Face it, kid."

Face your face is what I remember. Face your face.

I haven't worn face make-up since that day back in middle school. Going to goth-y parties I remember feeling my brown skin was reppin' life too hard, that pale was closer to death. Face your face. Life ain't so bad.