And In the Night, We'll Wish This Never Ends

Or Halloween in Three Parts--

Part One:

Good stories are supposed to start in the middle of things, but at the beginning is one fact--the last time I dressed up, earnestly, for Halloween, I was 17. Patched-up fairy wings and an old wrap-around tutu, both stolen from the Drama Club costume closet, worn with bare feet around school in the summer and finally, to a party. The last Halloween party I'd been to, also, 17. A good night, certainly--but what seems like a million years ago. A lifetime, certainly.

Joey couldn't go to the party--it was his friend's birthday--but several friends wanted me to go. So Charlie picked me up [because he had to be at work the next day and didn't want to drink heavily--and because I'd had a rough week and did want to drink heavily] and we went.

I was dressed as internet spam [Sharpie-coated white t-shirt and old jeans, scribblings of spam messages I found on the internet]--with messages about tits over my tits, messages about cock enhancement over my crotch, messages about weightloss supplements over my gigantic ass. Somewhere, floating in space, there's a singular picture of me from this night--smiling and gesturing, boldly, at my crotch.

Because most of the members of this house are, in fact, gay--and given 30 Rock's ever-timely weigh-in on the matter, I've called the event [in all fairness] Gay Halloween. And it was a blast. Charlie kept a drink in my hand [steering me, ever so friendly, toward a state he described as "party tipsy"], some of our good friends were there, and I got to meet some lovely new ones. The costumes were especially clever--including a small girl who told me her friend had dressed her as a "tiny geisha," a fellow MD/PhD student who was dressed as the Don't Ask Don't Tell policy ["So, I thought to myself, who's the biggest tranny who wears hooker boots to work?"], and a man dressed in a pair of dark trousers, a button-up shirt, a bike helmet and a backpack, an immediately identifiable Mormon missionary.

We put dry ice stolen from someone's lab in our drinks and danced in line for the bathroom and knew all the words to "Party in the USA." And at the end of the night, Charlie silently offered out his arm, escorted me down the steps and took me to Taco Bell. Could anyone ask for anything more?

Parts Two and Three tomorrow, because:

A) There are still 28 days left in November

B) Those parts include pictures and my computer is being an uncooperative ass.

C) This is going to be terribly long if I keep going.

In the meantime, I have a new post up at Real Mental--please go check it out!