In an effort to be outgoing and in honor of my new calling, I went to my ward's Halloween dance/party. I wasn't feeling particularly creative and my Daphne (from Scooby-Doo) costume had seen better days. So I just slapped on some goth nail polish, a bunch of black eyeliner, a black leather cuff I found at Claire's in the 'Claire's for Boys' section, and my beloved Supernatural Metallicar t-shirt and went as my evil twin. Not particularly creative, but I wasn't feeling particularly festive. Part of it was the hellacious week of presentations-being-criticized-by-the-professor-in-the-middle-of-them-in-front-of-the-rest-of-the-class and other school stresses. Part of it is that Halloween was my mom's second favorite holiday and celebrating it is hard still (seriously, almost had a complete and total meltdown on the bus two weeks ago because I overheard a man telling his daughter about the Great Pumpkin). And part of it was the fact that in the days of Yore, Parker, Treat Queen, and I (and any other assorted friends we could drag into the mayhem) would make Halloween fun, whether we did anything grand or not. So, the evening consisted of me trying to be involved and join groups and make friends and dance and enjoy the festivities, all the while thinking "if only Parker & Treat Queen were here." I can't lie, I breathed a sigh of relief when I left the party at 11. It just wasn't the same without my good friends. So many inside jokes, cryptic references, collective memories that were missing. And sometimes I don't know if I have the energy to start all over.