My genius costume.

I once went trick-or-treating as Santa. When I came up with that idea I was convinced I was the single most brilliant human being that has ever gone trick-or-treating or participated in Halloween through some sort of ritual that has or ever will live on this earth.

But you can't blame me.

Pros of celebrating Halloween in a Santa Clause costume:

- The guarantee of being nice and toasty running around the streets of Plymouth. Oh my, you're a cat? Oh, you're going home early because your little toesies are being bitten by the supernatural chill of Halloween? Yeah? Well I'm SANTA and SANTA has a large belly and a magical beard for warmth. Oh, you wish YOU had thought of Santa Clause? That's what I thought.


- Dressing up as a man has a comedic appeal nobody can deny. Imagine right now a ten year old girl wearing a beard. You just giggled.

- Why would a witch be carrying around a bag of goodies? Good question. Why would a Power Ranger be lugging around a pillowcase of candy? Yeah, that's dumb. Why would Santa be holding a sack of treats over his shoulder? Because that's Santa's JOB.

- Santa is indeed part of Christmas and not Halloween. That's irony right there! It's like "The Nightmare Before Christmas" but better.

- IT'S HILARIOUS AND CREATIVE.

Cons of celebrating Halloween in a Santa Clause costume:


- The other children will get jealous and may try to rip off your beard.


So basically it's genius. I Googled until the tips of my fingers were calloused before I found the perfect Santa, hat and all.
Best costume ever.

WOAHYOU'REINKARATETHAT'SSOCOOL.

So I'm in karate. Sometimes when I tell people they say something like "WOAHYOU'REINKARATETHAT'SSOCOOL" then

"...are...you...a black belt?" 

And I say 

"Yeah. I'm a first degree."

And that's really cool and fun and stuff, and I feel really cool and fun and stuff because somebody thinks I'm really cool and fun and stuff because I'm in karate.

Sometimes when I tell people, though, they laugh a little bit. I guess it's not that hip and groovy to be in karate.

They say

"Oh *heh* really?"

And I say

"Yeah. YEAH. Do you have a problem? Do you need me to set you straight? I'm a first degree black belt, AKA a first degree in badass ninja skills, so I wouldn't give me an oh or a *heh* or a really, okay?"

Then a few dribbles of tear form in their terrified little eyes, and I give them a nice round kick to the face for good measure.

I didn't live up to those standards the other day at my screening for second degree (the next step in my journey as a ninja at Plymouth National Karate) though.

I have to pass three screenings to get my next belt, in which I do karate stuff in front of other karate people to prove my worthiness as a soon-to-be second degree.

The screening was on Wednesday, and I learned that said screening existed in the middle of offensive side kicks on Tuesday. Naturally I stopped, put my hands on my face, whispered an obscenity, then looked at Mr. Lemon (the one who communicated this information to me) and smiled.

"Hopkins at 6:30," he said.

The word "Hopkins" echoed around me. It was back-fisting me in the face. "Hopkins" -*pop* in the face- "Hopkins" -*snap* in the temple- "Hopkins" -knuckle in the eye-. 

I don't know how to get to Hopkins.

I once got lost because I took 494 South instead of North for a good twenty minutes. I called my mom in tears.

"I. Don't. Know. Where. I. Aaaaaaam!"

I'm very talented at not following directions.

So Hopkins might as well have been Shanghai, and I was not prepared to GoogleMaps myself the way to China.

I got home after practicing at the studio for a while and asked my mom if she would take me, to which she said yes. I grinned with joy, because she didn't even flinch! Just a nice little "sure" and that was one problem crossed off of my list.

Alexis' List:

Get to Hopkins safely without getting lost or dying.

Score.

I enjoyed a few hours of happiness until she called me the next day.

"Hi Dear. Nick has a football game and I have to pick him up from school so I can't go with you to your screening."

She said something else but I just heard "merflerflahflerflahflerflahmlahmlahmlahflaaah" because I again was being back-fisted in the face by the idea of driving myself to an unknown destination.

Panic-stricken with thoughts of arriving late to my screening and being reprimanded into oblivion in front on a whole bunch of proud karate parents, I tried to come up with a plan.

I asked fellow AP Comp-er Carina to come with me but she had a stupid ACT thing to go to. She didn't even want to go but her mom made her! Stupid.

That was my last option. It was four o'clock and I had to leave at six. I tried doing a portion of the homework I had due the next day, but every time I sat down I felt like I was going to pee in my pants, or throw up, or cry, or spontaneously combust.

I facebooked my friend Annie and she told me to calm down.

I didn't.

Soon it was five thirty.

Then it was five forty-five.

Then it was six. Six o'clock. Six at night.

Then it came to me.

GPS.

My mom's car has a built in GPS. My mom's car has a built in GPS. My mom's car has a built in GPS!

So we switched cars and I got there just fine. Yup, just fine. I pulled in to Hopkins National Karate with ten minutes to spare. The flickering red National Karate sign might as well have been the golden white gates to heaven because I was THERE.

But I think the whole ordeal was too much for me, because I ended up having a panic attack. Literally, a panic attack.

I fished my twenty multiple round kicks, then couldn't breathe. I was wheezing all over the place like a fool.

"Get your hands up, Alexis the hard part is almost over."

But then I forgot how to sweep. I mean, the woman was a lot bigger than I am and I just froze.

Then I forgot my form.

And I forgot my water.

So the thing turned into a blur of wheezing and kicking and hitting and partially falling asleep.

But I passed.