Spookay

Thanks for the card, Sus! Your pumpkin doodle is not as deranged as you think it is, no worries. Hope you dressed up. I'm now thinking of likely costumes (and this will not be interesting to those of you who have the misfortune of not knowing Sus). Hmm... you didn't don dangly earrings and a grey wig and go as Bloomers, did you? Guess that would lose its punch in Denver. The sugar-free Kool-Aid Man, perhaps? The displaced Red Sox fan? Nah, I guess they're a dime a dozen. OH, I know! All in pink, curly tail, and a nice snout - Wilbur!


Why don't we wear costumes every-damn-day?

Or do we already... How philosophical, and possibly cynical, of me.

As I was saying, I love wearing a costume. I love becoming someone else, or maybe exploring some extension of myself. You may say to yourselves, "JoBiv, you did the toga thing again. We've seen it before. It's cheap."

In so many words, yes, and good thing. As of tomorrow I will have exactly $73.65 in my bank account and $11.80 in my wallet. Thrift is of the essence.

You may be delighted to hear that I embellished my toga this year. I happen to own bronze fabric paint. I don't recall why. As far as I know, I'm not a middle-aged lady who lives in a modular home on a sassafras farm in Dying Valley USA and paints kittens on sweatshirts to sell at craft fairs and corn festivals. But gee willikers, that paint came in handy. I made a kind of semi-fancy border on my twin sheet, ironed some pleats here and there, and bought (for fitty cents, no worries) a bronze ribbon to tie it up at the shoulder. Like I said, FANCY. My hair kinda does the Greek thing anyway, so that was no expense, and I slapped on some make-up from my days as a 13-yr-old shoplifter.

I looked hot.

And hey, the costume lasted through two parties. If you'd been at the first one you'd know that it had to withstand some trials, and I think you'd forgive some of the odors embedded for the following night.

That party... let me just say, in fairness to Stefan, I was warned. He did mention that his roommates were friends with lots of people who are into drugs. It was perhaps my own limited imagination that caused the shock and horror upon sighting a young man cutting cocaine on a cd case later that evening. When I think "drugs" I generally think, "those silly stoners. I bet they'll burn some good music for me." Most of the crowd belonged to that category (although they neglected to share music... most were unequipped), but it's a testament to my naivete that I did not expect coke. Or is it? At any rate, that kid was the exception and not the rule.

And no, there were no needles. Settle down.

I did have a good time, however, and managed to meet some interesting people and consume about five Reese's pb cups. The ones that come singly. Why do those taste better?

The second party was a Children's Lit free-fer-all. The first person I saw upon entrance was Katya, and she set the tone. She wore pink pj pants, a soft flowered thermal shirt, pigtails, a bib that said "I love my daddy," and a binky, and she was sucking on a baby bottle full of white wine (3 buck Chuck). The hardest substance present: blackberry brandy. The most disturbing costume: John Stamos.

Okay, Kate was a close second. It was the bib, I think.