Too Much Awesome: Do you say "birthday" or "birtday?" 'Cause I say "birtday."

My friend Christina should have been born on Halloween.

I first became BFFs with Christina during fall semester of my junior year. Our friends were having a big Halloween party and we were trying to come up with costume ideas. After pitching a few duo costume concepts (“Let’s be a couples tennis team!!!”), I decided on Charles Nelson Reilly because I had my father’s leisure suit. Christina decided on this character that Rachel Dratch played on an episode of Saturday Night Live: her name was something like Qrputzl, and she was the love child of Angelina Jolie and her creepy brother. (Remember when they were totally doing it? This is when Angelina Jolie won an Oscar – an Oscar! – for Girl, Interrupted. This is way back before Billy Bob Thornton when she was still in her Morticia Addams phase.)

Anyway, Christina and I were already friends, but I think we bonded a little extra that night because NO ONE understood who we were supposed to be (Random girl to me: “Are you a picnic table?!?!”), even though we found each other’s costumes to be hi-larious.

That Halloween, however, was particularly uneventful for Christina. I think most of her friends will never forget the year before when she dressed as Anna Nicole Smith and threw up on the stairs at some party. Halloween was on a Thursday night that year, and she must have forgotten about her exam the next morning in her music class. Since I didn’t know her back then, I’ve only heard about this precious moment in time when she woke up the next morning in bed with an aching back (because she had filled her pants with Polyfil and therefore slept all night on a slight incline) and massive breasts (because she had also stuffed her shirt with said Polyfil). Once she realized that she was, in fact, in her dorm room and, in fact, still dressed as Anna Nicole Smith (remember pre-Trimspa Anna Nicole?), she shed her costume and marched across the Quad to the Music building to take her test. She’s a trooper that one.

Even though Halloween ’03 was seemingly tame compared to the year before, Christina was ready to show Halloween ’04 who was boss. No, not Tony Danza – Christina. Christina owns Halloween. That year, when I dressed as another (but this time fictional) homosexual with a poor fashion sense, Corky St. Clair from Waiting for Guffman, Christina was another SNL character, but this time more recognizable: Linda Richmond.

(This is Christina somewhere in the middle of the evening after many solo cups of black jungle juice and many trips to the Gin Bucket with some dude who was dressed as the Chris Farley Chippendale dancer.)

After Carissa, Christina’s roommate, who, by the way, was dressed as a tree (she wore an afro-wig that she had spray-painted green and stuck leaves into), left the party, a verrrry drunk Christina left with Janna. Janna drove her back to their townhouse, only to discover that the door was locked and that Christina did not have a key. Janna took control and called Carissa, who unfortunately did not answer, and when she attempted to leave a civil message saying that she was taking Christina back to her place, Christina intercepted the call, shouting to Carissa, “I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU, TREE.”

(I always forget if this happened before or after the part of the night where Janna drove Christina to another party and, upon Christina’s insistence, left her asleep in the car for about an hour.)

Anyways, my point is that Christina is the type of gal who makes you enjoy Halloween, and I know if she’s not around the holiday means nothing to me. I like to think she’s the reason for the season. She’s the Jesus of Halloween.

Luckily, Christina’s crazy ass WILL be moving to Chicago and living with me next fall and I CANNOT WAIT. I didn’t do anything for Halloween last year and I missed seeing her dressed as Joan Crawford. Such a thing cannot happen again. Besides, we’ve already made plans to be Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton and sing “Islands in the Stream” repeatedly throughout the night. After taking shots between each rendition, of course.

I’ll end this with a nice picture of Christina looking too-cool-for-school so the people who read this won’t think she’s completely crazy / a total drunk, also because she pretty much has hated me since she got to the fourth paragraph, but especially because she’s my FOR REAL BEST BFF FOR LIFE. Seven hundred and fifty words aren’t enough to get that across, y’all.