Halloween should be fun, what with the free candy and the possibility to use toilet paper for non-personal reasons. In the past, though, I’ve had a few irritable moments.

I admit to enjoying the challenge of coming up with a costume that is unusual or in someway annoyingly “quirky.” One year I was a crime scene, with a huge bruise made of makeup on my forehead, yellow police tape wrapped around me, and plastic taped fingerprints attached at various places.

No one got it. It was disappointing. There are enough grown women dressed as princesses and witches, of which there is actually very little difference.

This year, though, a friend is throwing a Halloween party at his theoretical new house. Scary movies, pizza, and I’ll probably bring some cupcakes and other fattening desserts.

“Are you coming to my Halloween party?” he asked me. I had planned on it.

“Who all will be there?”

“Um…probably me, and you, and…that’s it.”

“Yeah, I’ll probably be there.”

“What’s your costume going to be?” he asked.

I paused. “I think I’ll go as Amelia Earhart. Then I just won’t show up.”

It’s an easy costume.