Grown-up Grump- No costume required.

You’d think I’d have a lot to communicate. But, I don’t. Why is that? After all, I’ve raced from the northeast corner of North Carolina to Atlanta, Georgia to attend a spectacular 30th birthday bash for my vivid and intoxicating red-haired beauty of a friend; reconfigured the contents of my sister’s home; caught up with all three of my nieces and nephews; battled (and finally won) a fierce and persistent headache, it was a doozie; continued the race to the final destination of Moultrie, Georgia where I might as well have thrust my body against a brick wall. The heat and humidity is a mighty force that exists many places, but none quite as potent as in south Georgia. They have an alliance with floating allergens, and it’s a left hook followed by a swift uppercut. I’ve taken the punch, my head bobbled with a slow motion affect, and I am down for the count. That’s what I feel like inside.

I packed inappropriately. I bagged a fall wardrobe accessorized to perfection and complete with all the textures one looks forward to in fall: velvet, mohair, cashmere, a pair of lovely suede shoes. And it will most likely stay bagged because it is 90 degrees outside. I’m so sick of saying “It’s a long summer.” and “It’s a long winter.” Can we change our calendars or request a system reset from Mother Nature? I mean Really! Edenton was actually on the money weather wise when I left. I will not think about that though, those pretty leaves and crisp cool drafts of air blowing past you, sweeping your hair along as they go, while you pull your wrap a little tighter around your shoulders and snuggle into the season… nope, won’t think about that and the contrast of it and what I sit in now… sweaty heat and pine straw. At least there is a pretty cotton field at the end of the street. That helps.

I came down to Atlanta to celebrate a birthday. To get all dolled up and mingle and maybe dance and simply be there for my friend who does her share of ‘being there’ for me. She was lovely and happy and well-loved. The party was a success. As I walked out of View Point and onto the sidewalk of Peachtree Street I was impressed to see the buzz at 1 AM. People were dining and drinking across the street and others were walking in directions heading to other locales and I looked up, breathed it in, admired the city lights in view and pulled my trench tight. I stiletto strutted to my car and was a city gal again for a night.

The next morning, I woke up to a house full of dogs, kids, and noise! It was go-time again, except this unwelcome guest of a headache that had introduced itself to me the night before lingered and proved to be a nuisance all day, and all the next day…until I finally popped my neck enough it was forced out. I helped my sister rearrange her decorative items, fished some key pieces to use from her attic, and hung pictures all while entertaining and watching over China, Selma Lu, and Madeline. Madeline was the most mischievous hands down! She is the ultimate two year old, curious and eager and refuses to take no for an answer, all while remaining endearing. I felt as though I was on a 24-hour deadline for an HGTV show. Hussle and Hang. It worked, though. I think she was pleased with the difference made in such a short time and all with items already in her home.

My nephew, Landry, had his last baseball game of the season, which I attended. It was hilarious. All these little men with the mannerisms of major league players and when the game is in action the ball goes plop. But, the wind up was fabulous! Landry is a great hitter. He doesn’t even have to run fast to 1st base because he hits it hard and it’s for sure no one is going to catch it. It was a neat sight for me, who has never witnessed an all-little-dude team event. Pretty special.

Then, my mom, dad and I headed the 4 hours south to my hometown, swinging by The Vitamin Shoppe before leaving the city so that I could run in and get my magic greens. Magic greens and magic bracelet… my not so secret tricks up the sleeve. So, I’m here now, in Moultrie, and I haven’t a clue what to do with myself. I went to the market to get some of my usual edibles, but I’m floundering around. Cleaning out a random closet or setting up my laptop to sit at and write boring mumbo jumbo about things no one is interested in reading about… what to do?

Halloween is approaching and I’m trying to remember the thrill of it all. I recall being so excited, yes, but I’m trying to remember the exact feeling I had inside, the jitters and anticipation and somehow recreate it and I come to a dead end everyway I turn down this Labyrinth of Childhood Giddiness. What I can remember easily is the thought that I shared with every other kid with a pulse. “What makes adults so boring? How can they not be excited about something like Halloween?!” Am I all of a sudden one of those adults? The one with a dull, half-hearted smile that goes along with the program simply because everyone else is doing so? Maybe if I had a kid it would be different; I’m sure it would. But from where I sit right now, it’s a mystery as to how I can reproduce genuine excitement over dressing up like a buffoon and harassing people for candy. (I realize one doesn’t trick-or treat past 12 or something, I’m just generalizing.) And the candy, well, all you name-callers, get ready, I’m your girl to berate and bombard with insults. Didn’t candy start out being a rare commodity; one that was used on occasions that were out of the ordinary like trick-or-treating? I think getting goodies at the door of strangers (an odd exception to all the universal stranger = danger rules) was more fun when it wasn’t something hurled at me from every angle of childhood… and beyond. Instead of giving out mounds of sugar in keeping with tradition or a toothbrush or raisins in protest, why can’t we all just agree to pull back a tad on the every single day sugar overload? I see kids, I see candy, I see reports constantly finding increases in diseases like diabetes. Hmmm… are we all that moronic? Maybe we’re all (by all I am meaning Americans) addicted and don’t care enough to overcome our insatiable appetite for junk. I think it ruins the body, ruins the mind, ruins the spirit- that junk food. Ruins a country too if it’s full of people who “are what they eat.” Gone are the days of long recess at school, the kind where you run and tackle and don’t have to “air hug” and “air high five” your friends. (What an absolute embarrassment is that, by the way? How have we let that happen? I might find the person who came up with this grand idea and “not-so-air slap” their face!) Gone are the days of candy as a rarity.

I told Nick, when I spoke to him on the phone, about my grump of an attitude about Halloween & that I have evolved into my biggest fright as a little girl. I am a person that thinks, “Yeh, it’s Halloween, so what?” He laughed. Because we both were amazed by the concept as kids, but now have trotted down the road to purely grown-up trick-or-treat behavior. I think dressing up could be fun, actually, but what pressure. I wouldn’t be able to do it half-ass, and would find myself really consumed with looking just like Cleopatra (funny story about this to follow) or just like Madonna and I know it’s not gonna happen. Both Nick and I have to be in a rare and silly mood to do the dress up and get drunk drill. We are so serious. We’d truly rather pour a glass of wine, have a fine dinner and discuss some global conundrum. Good Lord!! I’ve just heard myself… I am certified dull adult!! No question about it. Help the children born to me, I am a Halloween grinch!

Could this be the weather, all of this negativity? Because I am thoroughly peeved about the lack of a chill outdoors. Would I be happier and less of a fuddy dud if it were just seasonal weather where I sat? And it occurs to me again, probably not, because I’m talking about the weather! The weather. Only geezers care about the weather.

If there is a reader with the patience required to withstand this despicable portion of written thoughts, I must say to you, “Thank you, and I apologize.” I sat down saying I didn’t have anything to communicate, yet I have written plenty about that ‘nothing’. This is me- not saying anything. Ha.

Sometimes I annoy myself. I’m nagging me in my head. I’m going to just shut up.

.