Yesterday was our first Halloween in the new house – the first Halloween in any house at all, really.  We used to live in an apartment on a busy street, where we got exactly zero trick or treaters, and for weeks we have been looking forward to Halloween in the new neighborhood.  There are tons of kids and families living on the surrounding blocks, and we couldn’t wait to see the cute kids and their costumes and to pass out lots of candy.

Well, that’s what *I* couldn’t wait for, at least.  John couldn’t wait to carve his pumpkin.

It is not an exaggeration to say that John has been plotting this pumpkin for over a month.  Special tools were procured.  Various designs were vetted on the internet. In the end, he chose to go with a classic, if challenging, image: the growling face of the Chicago Bears logo.

I did a lot of suppressing of sighs, because HONESTLY, there was no way that was going to work. Who carves a pumpkin that elaborate?

My husband, that’s who.  And I have to say: he proved me totally, completely, 100% wrong.  This thing was a work of art:

Hard at work

It took him a while- way longer than I would have had the patience for, but when it was all done, it looked really great:

We inhereted the candy stripe wallpaper.

The coolest part was also the hardest to photograph: he hollowed the pumpkin out from the bottom and scraped away most of the wall of the pumpkin so when we put a lantern inside it, it glowed:

It was much glowier than this in real life

Several trick or treaters and their parents complimented us on our excellent pumpkin.  No one seemed to mind that the Bears had a bye week.

Artist and signature work

We ended up giving away ten bags worth of candy (which required an emergency trip to the grocery store in the middle of the evening,) with adorable little people substantially outnumbering sullen teenagers who didn’t even bother dressing up.  That was nice.  Next year, I’ll know to plan ahead: I’ll go to Costco and get the huge huge HUGE bags of candy.  And John? He’s already plotting next year’s pumpkin.

Once in your lifetime, you may be lucky enough to land tickets to the SuperBowl when your beloved hometown team is playing. If you are really lucky, that SuperBowl will be in Miami, which is notably warmer than your hometown in February.

You may, in preparation for your trip to Miami, be tempted to go to Mystic Tan to try to look less pasty. You may also fear plantar warts, and decide to wear the booties the Mystic Tan people offer you to avoid the wart risk. As my sister will tell you, this is a bad idea. Booties: bad.

After a few anxious days in Miami, where you are forced to calm your nerves with excessive mojito consumption, it will finally be game day. You will get in the car and start driving to the game.

There will be traffic.

The traffic will be so bad, in fact, that if you started drinking beer at 9am, you may find yourself stuck on the freeway offramp in something of a bathroom emergency. Fortunately, Florida highways feature high reeds on the side of the road, which will help you feel discreet.

Then you will feel better.

You will finally arrive at the stadium. You will marvel at how much turquoise there is. Turquoise signs, turquoise seat cushions, turquoise beer cups. Even the stadim appears to have been wrapped in turquoise plastic wrap. Very, very turquoise.

You will grab beers and find seats just in time to see a very strange Cirque du Soleil show featuring alligator balloons. Confusing.

The team will come out in a blaze of glory. You will cheer wildly. You will try to take pictures of their dramatic entrance, but they will all look like cloudy fogs of smoke. Stupid pyrotechnics. You will give up and take a picture of the JumboTron, because it is not obscured by smoke.

Finally, game time. You will watch, rapt, as the kickoff lofts through the air, Hester catches it, runs, twists, rolls, breaks a tackle holy crap it’s just him and the kicker oh my god he’s broken through run back kickoff for touchdown pandemoneum!

There will be no picture of this because you are lucky to have even survived the insane celebration that ensued.

Sadly, that will be the highlight of the game. Things will slow down. There will be approximately 432 t.v. timeouts, and since those in the stadium don’t get to see the famous commercials, it will give you an opportunity to take faux-artsy pictures with your new camera. Your father will mock you mercilessly for taking faux-arsty pictures at a football game.

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Then it will be halftime. Prince will come out in a do-rag and swagger and strut his way through an amazing halftime show.

Oddly, he will be backed by a glow in the dark marching band. Not surprisingly, they are also turquoise.

The second half will be too grim to photograph. Losing? It is sad.
But that play? That first play? Will make it all worth it. Because if you’re lucky enough, once in your lifetime, to go see your hometown team play in the SuperBowl in Miami, the trip will definitely be making an appearance on your lifetime highlight reel.

Man oh man, I do not fit in in South Beach. Good times, but I stick out like a sore thumb in my jeans tanktop and flats. Where are my minidresses? I keep berating myself for forgetting to pack my minidresses until I remember- I don’t have any.

Lots of fun pictures, including a tragic cautionary tale about the dangers of Mystic Tan, when I return. Until then– GO BEARS!

I am going to the superbowl.

In Miami.

To see the Bears play.

I absolutely cannot believe my good luck.

Super Bowl Shuffle 07 here I come!  Woohoo!