This is Pretty Normal, Actually

It is hard to know what is normal these days. But having a party at the end of October seems like a fairly normal thing to do. And, it is not fake news to anyone who knows me, that I love a party.

I wouldn't exactly define myself as a party girl. For one thing, I'm not a girl, and for another, I generally keep my wits about me when throwing a party. Yes, I give in to plenty of laughter and perhaps even some outrageous behavior, but that isn't due to the influence of alcohol. That's just how I act. Anyway, the point is, I love a party and can generally find any excuse to throw one. October was no exception.

Side note: My family has been given strict instructions that when I die they are to have a party in my honor. I don't want a sad, gloomy remembrance. They have been told to throw a party with lots of laughter, maybe some dancing, plenty of food, and an abundance of goofiness. So, if I die and you see my family doing the gloomy thing, you have my permission to 'mean mug' them the whole time. 

That said, I am very much alive at the moment and, in fact, one of the reasons I so enjoy a party is that it gathers people together in a spirit of joy and community and life celebration. I love the laughter and food and stories. There is a feeling of unity when friends gather to celebrate. Rarely does it matter what is being celebrated. What matters most is that we are together embracing life and shared humanity.

To that end, in October we had a witch party. I'm not entirely sure it was my idea to begin with. I honestly can't remember. It isn't at all unusual for my friends to decide they want to have a party and to ask if we can have it at my house. My friend, Debbie is the queen of theme parties so it may well have been her idea originally. A few years ago, at her behest, we had a 1960s themed Christmas Party after I inherited the silver aluminum Christmas tree from my childhood. The primary reason for that party was to drink martinis, dress my daughter as a young, pregnant woman smoking and drinking 1960s style, and to take photographs. Because that is normal. Right?

A Witch Party was all about dressing up and dancing. When I first put on my orange striped witch socks I declared it the happiest day of my life which, admittedly, might have been a little over the top but wearing witch socks was especially satisfying. Until they started cutting into my thighs. But hey, fashion is pain. Even for witches, apparently.

We make a pretty convincing couple of hags, don't we?

A gathering of costume clad friends and family obliged our request that they attend as witches and warlocks, except for a couple of people who stretched the definition. Nevertheless, they came dressed up and that was good enough for us! Anna's boyfriend had loaned her his cow costume and Steve wore it for a few minutes. He was stripped of his costume, however, when he claimed that he was a warlock whose spell had gone, 'udderly wrong'.

Nope. No more cow costume for you.

This was before he made his bad pun.

The bovine warlock did show up again later, however, when Parker opted to put it on, having been unsure what constituted warlock wear. Granted, witch clothing, in the form of black hats and striped socks, does seem easier to come by. We ended up with a cadre of witches and warlocks, with one gender confused cow, and a Star Trek guy. Because, that is normal. Right?

I love my people!

I got a little taken up by the whole thing in the days leading up to the party and, although she didn't attend, I gave Mommie Dearest a witch hat. She liked wearing it. She seemed to have an uncanny sense of belonging in it. She was pretty convincing when she pretended to cast a spell on me. Ever since then I have felt the urge to supply my mother with alcohol and men.

"You'll forever do my bidding!"

Of course I had to dress up the dog because...that is normal. Right? Sadie didn't seem nearly as pleased to wear it as my mother did. She also didn't seem nearly as threatening. I think she was imploring me to let the newts keep their eyes. Sadie is a very empathetic dog.

"Why me?"

Finally, I couldn't resist putting it on the cat too. He seemed least thrilled of anyone. He looks downright despondent about the whole thing. I'm pretty sure if there had been a magic wand around I'd be scurrying about as a mouse right now.

"This is so humiliating."

Anyway, my mother and pets aside, our witch party needs were met, for this year, as dear longtime friends and a couple of special new ones joined in the fun. We all gathered on our outdoor deck for a bit dancing with the warlocks on the sidelines, bewitched by our spectacular talent. Because, that is normal. Right?

In all, it was the perfect October evening gathering. Grown adults, dressed in costumes, dancing, and finding joy in the company of one another. Ironically, that really is what's normal. The current political debacle is decidedly not normal! The division, and culture wars, and lack of civility is NOT normal.

It also doesn't represent the majority of people. The majority of people are good, caring, and loving, with an abundance of humanity and bewilderment at the appalling condition of our country. I truly believe this. The majority of people are, indeed, normal.

So, a party with people we love, dressed up as mythical beings, feels pretty normal currently. All the witches and warlocks don't view our current cultural and political situation the same. And we don't have to. Because in the end, that isn't what matters. What matters is our shared humanity, our ability to see past our difference, and our mutual love for one another.

And striped socks. Those matter.

That is normal. Right?