Sunday 10/31/10

31 Oct

Happy Halloween!  Boy was this a disastrous weekend.  Pencils of Promise Halloween Party at M1-5 on Friday night destroyed everyone.  In true poverexic style, I didn’t want to pay money for a different costume this year so I naturally reused my Sugar Baby costume from last year — I’m trying to get as much use out of this costume as possible, like how I re-purposed it this year also as my birthday suit.

Sugar Baby

Yes, it’s as short as it looks — it hardly covers my ass, and I also can’t wear underwear with it because the back is see-through.

But Friday at work we had a Halloween party, and people were encouraged to dress up, so I just put some black leggings underneath my costume and it instantly went from “what a slut” to “omg so cute!!!”  I got so many compliments at work on my Sugar Baby.  Little do coworkers know I normally do not wear leggings with this outfit, which would have gotten me from “omg so cute!!!” to “you’re fired” instantly.  But yeah, Halloween party at work was great — we had trick or treating around the office, and we were all supposed to bring candy to put out on our desks, but I “accidentally forgot” to bring candy, ie I’m a person who takes, not gives, hello.  So I lost nothing and gained an entire trick-or-treat bag full of candy that I’m going to save up for the month of November, yessss.  Also at the party were ‘Hallowinis,’ pumpkin beer, tons of different kinds of cheeses with bread and crackers, grapes, chips/salsa, homemade brownies, homemade pumpkin pie, etc etc.  It was the perfect amount of dinner to start my night — don’t want to eat too much but want to eat just enough dinner to not black out before 10pm.

Well, I didn’t black out before 10pm so that was a good sign.  Roommates and I pregamed at home before heading out to this open bar party — I had a good time at the Pencils of Promise Halloween party last year, so I knew this year would likely be a blast as well.  Besides, it’s always a bunch of Brown dudes (college not color of skin), and they typically know how to have more fun than Harvard dudes.  We of course got to the party promptly at 10pm to take full advantage of the all-night open bar (and also because L’s friends were throwing the party), and there were only a handful of people when we got there.  What is wrong with people that they wouldn’t come right on time to an open bar party.  So anyway we went to town on the bar, I couldn’t keep track of how many rum-and-cokes I had, and before I knew it I was dancing feverishly with an elf and a Dutch “maiden” with fake tits full of booze (but it was a guy, not actually a maiden) and lost everyone I came to the party with.

I’m not really sure how I got home, but the next morning I woke up to a bbm from C being like “Ready for today’s pub crawl, girl?!?!?!”  No, I was not ready for the Halloween pub crawl.  I had a splitting headache, I had a humongous bruise on my right knee from falling on the dance floor last night and ruining my yellow Sugar Baby costume and destroying my legs, and I overheard roommates L and K ordering Tasty King in the living room without me and I wanted to die.  But I knew I had to rally.  It was Halloweekend after all, as C says.  I whined, turned over and kicked T out of my bed, ran out of my bedroom into the bathroom to put my head straight in the toilet, ordered me some Chinese food, then showered to get ready for Halloweekend Round 2.  Boot and rally, L, boot and rally.  So I met up with C et al at Finnerty’s and crawled around to some East Village pubs and just drank a shitload of $2 Bud Lights all day/night long.  I felt awful, I’m not going to lie, but still had a good time at Halloween bars with guys who appeared hot underneath layers of costume and also a bunch of Gator fans.

My Sunday, though, went downhill when roommates K/L and I got into a fight over whether or not we were going to allow trick or treaters to knock on our door this year.  Last year Halloween was the miserable day when we moved into our apartment, and I literally had to push little kids and obnoxious parents out of the way with my boxes because there was a Haunted House going on in our building downstairs.  Worst nightmare ever.  I actually physically knocked one kid down and I thought the mom was going to kill me, but that kid fucking deserved it, and he probably should have gotten aborted anyway.  Needless to say I was not looking forward to trick or treaters this year, and so I was dead set on putting up a sign “KIDS, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM OUR DOOR OR THE ABORTION FAIRY WILL COME AND GET YOU IN YOUR SLEEP,” but when I said that out loud I thought roommate K was going to cry and have her entire year ruined, so I agreed to let trick or treaters come under three conditions:

  1. I would never get up to answer the door.  Never.  Ever.
  2. This was not going to disturb my Sunday night TV watching.  I was going to put the volume high enough to drown out the doorbell, and I would not pause the show to let K or L go get the door.  There was not going to be any pausing whatsoever.
  3. I would be allowed to take as much candy as I wanted.  And that includes for stocking up.

Friday/Saturday I was Sugar Baby.  Sunday I was Evil Bitch of the West.  Disastrous weekend, but oh so fun.  Heart Halloweekend.

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