Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Saturday, Nov. 01, 2003 - 10:43 p.m.

Psst! Hey, Kobe: take a look at the situation you're in before you open your mouth, in the locker room *or* in the press. For you to be criticising anyone right now is beyond the pale, so just sit on the bench and shut the fuck up, 'kay?

Bygones.

So, like, Halloween parties were actually attended and costumes were actually worn last night, after a fashion. I just about fell over when TB announced he wanted to dress up this year, because, well, TB isn't one for dressing up all that often. That, and he wanted to go as Willy Wonka, instead of something slightly more grim, like, oh, say, the Angel of Death. Sadly, he neglected to have this epiphany until Thursday, when it was really far too late for me to scrounge up a purple velvet jacket and rust-colored top hat, but I made the effort anyway, in the 1 hour that I had to spare on Friday. Unfortunately, purple velvet jackets and rust-colored top hats are slightly harder to come by than one might think, especially in a single hour and within the confines of 3 - count them, 3 - thrift shops, even one which can usually be counted upon to give up such things, frequented, as it is, by the kind of people who tend to have weddings in which all the groomsmen are completely decked out in purple velvet jackets. I have come across any manner of fashion atrocity in that particular store, so my hopes were high, but sadly, it was not to be. And I thought I'd lost my keys, which really cut into valuable costume hunting time. It turned out I'd only locked them in the car, which would have turned out to be a tragedy, but TB had pressed a hide-a-key upon me shortly before my trip to France, so there it was, all snug and safe in its little hide-a-key place, and I was able to get into the car with a modicum of hassle...once I remembered where the hide-a-key place was and was able to actually locate said key. Which I can tell you is not that easy to do if you are a person unaccustomed to feeling around on the inside of a car's body, even if your boyfriend *has* made you practice a time or two. I knew where it was, but actually recognizing it when I felt it, that was the tricky part. At any rate, I did find it, but not before perusing the entire block and 2 thrift stores for it first. That left really no time to hit the big giant Goodwill on Reseda Blvd. almost certain to contain at least a purple velvet jacket and guady bowtie, so I cruised over to Tarzhay and grabbed a black beret to top of my costume, that of a French girl.

I know, I know, real original. Look, I had no time to dress up. Like a dolt, I just two weeks ago gave to that self same Goodwill every bitchin' Halloween costume I've kept and lugged around for the past many years, because I figured a) TB does not like parties, and b) TB does not really go in for such manic craziness as costumes, ergo, there was probably not another costume party hanging in my future, and certainly not in the next 2 weeks, because TB had given me absolutely no indication that a) we were invited to any parties at all this Halloween or b) if we *were* invited to parties, they would be the sort to which one wears traditional Halloween garb. So the totally cool pirate costume I painstakingly put together one year? Gone. The red Cleopatra toga, complete with super tacky gold Egyptian jewelry? Gone. The slutty dress I never had the guts to wear? Gone. All I had were scrubbies (yawn) and a USMC flight suit, which given the current political climate, the staunch Republican stance of those persons giving the party, and my own personal opposition to the crap my government is currently carrying out in this country, I really didn't want to wear. I *did*, however, propose to The Boyfriend that he wear it and we pin a photo of Bush with the international sign for No drawn on it to the back, and write peace signs and stuff like that on a white t-shirt he could wear under it with the suit open, pin a peace sign on the suit, and he could be a conscientious objector, which I pretty much figured went with the French thing. But he figured if he couldn't be Willy Wonka, he wasn't going to be anything at all. I still went as a French girl, though, and froze my ass off, because Southern California decided to trick out and go all cold and rainy on me.

Stupid state.

Anyway, one person got what my costume was and high fived me. Everyone else thought I had just taken special care with my appearance. Like I, who rarely wear anything other than jeans, unless an audition or other aberration to my daily schedule requires a dress, like I would opt to wear a flouncy black short skirt on the coldest, rainiest night of the year, so far. With a black bra on under my white shirt, and a blue scarf tied around my neck. And a beret, for crying out loud. Granted, it was an exceedingly subtle costume, but still.

Anyway, I ended up at a table with a bunch of people I didn't know, talking about all the scary movies we'd seen and our favorite episodes of The Twilight Zone. It was kinda cool. :)

Thursday I went to a pumpkin carving party, which was fun. I like that kind of thing, you see. Here's the pumpkin I carved. Unlike Sundry, I have no pictures of last year's pumpkin, which was a cat sitting on a tree branch in front of the moon...hmm...I think I detect a theme... My pumpkin was ruled the winner, but I personally think the Medusa someone else carved was way cooler. There were also funny faces, a witch, and a headless horseman, whose foot in the saddle was declared another body part (which also starts with a p) by one of the other pumpkin carvers. It was rather poorly placed. We used patterns, which I know purist pumpkin carvers think is a copout, but those of us sadly lacking in raw pumpkin carving skills need the leg up. I have seen pictures of past pumpkins produced (it's really all about the alliteration, at this point) by The Boyfriend, and he is a positively prolific pumpkin paysagiste, in my personal opinion. I am pedantic and puerile, producing passive pumpkins pleasing practically no one, so yes, I used a pattern. Punching pumpkin patterns promotes pain, by the way. Anyway, here's my pumpkin. There's a middle whisker over there on the left side, but it didn't photograph. Just so you know my cat-o-lantern isn't actually lopsided. It just looks like it is.

Peace out,
Katie

1 comments so far

We've got a psychotic serial killer in the family who loves to butcher people on
Halloween, and I just thought it in bad taste to celebrate.

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Yesterday's News - Next Stop

In which Katie shares sad news - Wednesday, Apr. 01, 2015
In which Katie returns after a very long absence - Monday, Jun. 25, 2012
In which Katie pokes her head in and brushes some of the cobwebs away - Thursday, May. 06, 2010
In which Katie asks you to write your congressman again. - Monday, Jun. 02, 2008
In which Katie asks you to please click the link and send the message to protect the rights of artists - Wednesday, May. 21, 2008