I Went as A California Raisin For Halloween and This Is What Happened

It was a dark and stormy night because I had just been dumped.

I was laying on the couch on a cool October night, watching Dr. Quin Medicine Woman, and had just finished off an entire carton of Breyers Vanilla ice cream when my friend called to ask if I wanted to go to a Halloween party that weekend. Being in high school a break-up can truly feel like the end of your life so I said yes in an attempt to get my spunk back.

I thought about what costume I should wear because everyone was dressing up but I wasn't thrilled about it. I was living in the time of Britney Spears, Avril Lavigne, and Borat. It was really popular to dress up a "sexy something" whether it be a nurse, cop, or schoolgirl. I am not saying that sexy costume choices are bad, I would've killed to dress up like Britney Spears from her Hit Me One More Time music video! Girls and guys that can pull off sexy costumes hold this incredible confidence that I have always looked up to. If you've got it, flaunt it, baby.

However, I wasn't too thrilled about my bod or the incredible confidence that I now embrace and love about myself. My previous go-to costumes were a witch and a hippie because black on black on black makes you appear slim and hippies, well, hippies are awesome, and fringe covers everything. I yearned to find something different so my inner voice told me to stop listening to Lisa Loeb crying in my room and search for a costume.

I decided to take a trip to the Halloween store on Lisbon Street in Lewiston to pick out my costume. In the early 2000s, you couldn't press "purchase" on a touch-screen. Buying a costume consisted of driving to a brick-and-mortar store and renting, yes renting an already worn Halloween costume and praying that you didn't lose the paper receipt to return it. Express shipping was when you just drove really fast on the way home.

I pursued the racks like a cat in heat and there were definitely 75 million different sexy cat costumes. From 1920 Short Flapper dresses to Betty Boops and Paris Hiltons I was in hell. So I decided, that day, to make a bold decision. A decision that I would later discover held more weight than I realized at the time.

All the way in the back of the store there was a rack of degenerates, filled with different beloved characters and mascots and that's when I saw him. That's when the heavens opened and I felt like I was going to break out in a solo song of my own life movie.

It was big, it was brown, it was velvety, a gold bow-tied buddy that I instantly bonded with. The illustrious California Raisin. I wasn't only going to wear this, I was going to become this. God called and I answered as a California Raisin. When I left the store I was carrying a large, heavy, and very smelly garment bag but it didn't deter me, I was pleased with my decision.

The night of the party came and I was ready. I was fully outfitted in the most marvelous costume at the party. Maybe it's because my face was hidden and no one but my friends knew who I was, but it gave me an excuse to be a little precarious and risque. We didn't "twerk" then we "backed it up" and I was backing up my raisin like a trash truck all night long to all of Missy Elliot's hits. If it's worth it let me work, I put my thang down flipped it, and reversed it.

This may not be you're typical "Cinderella Story", but to me, I was a princess and my prince was a dried-up fruit. The raisin gave me an excuse to be free. You don't need a prince or princess to make you feel worthy, all you need is yourself and the ability to uncover your own self-love. So this Halloween when you're having a hard time picking out a costume, use your inner child to help guide you to what will make you happy. Because if you're happy, that's all that matters. Find your inner raisin.

By the way, I am expecting a baby prune any day, I am registered at Raisins R' Us.

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