Not the Fairy Anymore

It's a funny thing isn't it, Facebook? Often annoying and frustrating but it's strangely addictive. Boring yet compelling. But despite its faults it made me realise something quite wonderful yesterday. My life is better now than it was before.
I often feel like nothing has changed for me. I have so far managed to avoid making any major decisions about my life and now that I'm definitely shimmying my way into my late twenties it seems to be quarter-life crisis time. What exactly have I achieved? Why do I want everything and yet nothing in particular? Why does everyone have goals and I don't? You read magazine articles about this stuff so I know I'm not the only one.
And yet, I look on Facebook and all my old school friends seem to be incredibly successful; my acquaintances are constantly on holiday; someone just won the Nobel Prize for Physics. That kind of thing.
Well yesterday, at the top of my Newsfeed this picture appeared:

"This was you four years ago today."
Putting aside the creepy omniscience of this function I was suddenly incredibly happy not to be that me anymore.
You can't tell but this picture shows me very angry, and for someone who is never angry that's quite a big statement. I had to wear that stupid costume so many times. It smelled bad because it was never cleaned; it was too big so was always gaping and yet too small so if I ever had to pick something up off the floor anywhere near pervy boss man...it was uncomfortable. Everyone knew I hated that outfit. I refused to wear it so often and yet here I am putting it on again.
One time my manager didn't even tell me I'd have to go on stage in it to present awards, the client sprang it on me by thanking me in advance for "agreeing" to help out. Gritted teeth: "Oh! No problem."
Can I add that this was a waitressing job? Waitressing not performing. As the fairy, I still had to do all the normal running around but I had to do it in wings and stockings and a forced smile. And I wasn't paid any extra. That was the most galling thing I think. If I was hired to do that in my capacity as a dancer it would've been quite a nice little earner probably. Enough for Christmas presents anyway.
Although actually I'm wrong. The most galling thing was that even though I complained, in the end I still did it when I should have stood up for myself or slammed the door in their face.
It wasn't only the fairy. It was a strange time in my life and the fairy has come to represent everything I didn't like about it: doing things that I didn't want to do instead of things I did. So silly of me!
And now? Perhaps I don't have my dream job but I'm treated well. I don't feel as challenged as I'd like but I watch amazing artists, play games and tell stories. And crucially I'm not the fairy anymore. I left a bit of life that made me angry and never looked back. It's a tiny thing but four-years-ago me is very happy because of it.
So thanks Facebook. That was a nice reminder.

Halloween

“Listen to them - children of the night. What music they make.” -Bram Stoker, Dracula 

"The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?" - Edgar Allan Poe

Today I (my mother) bought a bucket of Halloween sweets. These, as I'm sure you are all aware, are to give to small children in superman or cat outfits for their creative dressing up skills. And to give to older children who don't bother dressing up but carry boxes of eggs and toilet rolls. Blackmail payment.
Frankly, I would prefer to park the cars not next to the house, close the curtains, turn off all the lights, pretend we're out and eat the sweets myself.
I never really got Halloween. I was never allowed to go trick or treating so I find it a bit weird that you can go knock on a stranger's door and demand sweets or money or I'll shoot you with this water pistol that is a cunning part of my cowboy outfit.
Bugger off you little sh*t. Cowboys are nothing to do with Halloween.
If in doubt, here are some costumes that I will accept:
Ugly witch, complete with warty nose;
Fully bandaged mummy giving off powerful reek of formaldehyde;
Woland;
Some kind of pagan god of harvest;
George W Bush;
Something that fits this description:

“Hateful day when I received life!' I exclaimed in agony. 'Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance. Satan had his companions, fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am solitary and abhorred." - Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

or something SUPER cute like this:

Now that is a good costume. Not particularly scary/at all, but look at the effort! And for a day that kid is just a child in a costume instead of a child in a wheelchair. He does have a whole truck of ice cream though...he probably doesn't need my Haribo.