Trick Or Treat! Or Beer. Whatever Works.
Posted October 25, 2012on:
This will be my first Halloween without a pumpkin, a costume, or a plan. Well maybe the second. Or the third. Or the fourth. (Who keeps track of these things?!) I’m not very good at planning shit, so it’s one of those events that just kinda comes as it goes. A day on the calendar that adds enough excitement to make an October interesting, but at the same time, isn’t heavily missed when it’s over. Take Martin Luther King Day for a relevant example.
A. – I’m not in any form of school anymore, so three day weekends are an endangered species, seeing as I always end up working them anyways.
B. – I’m not black.
C. – I hate history.
I think I’ll just be the same thing as last year. Pretty sure I’ve been the ‘same thing as last year’ 3 times now. (Mainly because I’m lazy and usually choose to sit on my creativity rather than embrace it. Which will eventually be the death of me.) Last year consisted of black fishnets, a pair of slutty stilettos, and a fancy little red bra with lace outlining the straps and back section. I was the naughty nurse!
I honestly love being the naughty nurse. The attention received when I stand 6’3 with not much more than a few pieces of lingerie on is so fucking energizing. Especially when my best friend (Megon Witter, you have been tagged!) is not much shorter than I am and we go paint the town red together. All the shifty eyes, the nervous weight distribution shifts, the free drinks in the process of being mixed, purchased, and consumed. It’s such a trip. I love the nightlife. I love it all.
I actually won the costume from an online sweepstakes via Torrid.com. Now, if you haven’t heard of these guys, they’re a clothing store (there’s one in Northtown Mall, I believe) who specialize in sexy lingerie, denim, accessories, blah blah blah. Catch: They specialize in all those things…for plus-size women. I wasn’t aware of this at the time, so you can imagine my surprise when I open my prize to find a 40DD bra and what looks like a little red hammock. Which, under more thorough examination, turns out to be a thong. A gigantic red thong. (When I put it on, it looks like I’ve broken my arm because it’s pristine size for a sling, no fucking joke. Haha!) The box also came with an assortment of other nurse related paraphenilia that were one-size-fits-all tho, so there were definitely enough goodies to work with to piece a costume together. With the purchase of a new bra and panties, of course. Check and check.
The only downfall to my get-up is how damn cold it gets on the night of the 31st. And the lack of clothing on my body drops my tolerance level of temperature (which never really consisted of much to begin with) to a borderline unbearable. Unless of course I’m liquored up. In which case it could dip below zero and you’d still find me with a smile on my face, despite the fact that I’m drunk, naked, and making snow angels in the neighbors’ yards. (“Merry Christmaaaaas!!!” As I recycle my empty Heineken bottle to form Frosty’s nose.)
I can’t even remember where we ended up last Halloween, honestly. Or for that matter, where we started. (Obviously I must have been minus a camera because I’m usually pretty good at documenting shit like that.) This year I wanna find a hoppin’ house party with good people, good music, and a fridge full of good beer. Simple as that. I was actually giving thought to walking up and down EWU or Gonzaga’s campuses. But that would almost be too easy. My handicap of not having a vehicle may come into play here, considering I work 7am Thursday morning, but then again I wouldn’t have to cross that bridge ’til I got to it. (Which would probably be puffy-eyed and dehydrated on a stranger’s couch, 1o minutes before my scheduled clock-in time.) There’s always alternative methods of transportation when you’re dedicated enough tho. STA (the city bus) is effective. As are legs. As are friends with cars; they are the best kind.
I even went shopping for candy this year. For the (non-existent) trick or treaters who trick or treat apartment complexes, of course! Yea okay, so I gave in to my vice and bought a ten dollar bag of Milky Ways and Snickers. For myself. (I was in need of some Halloween spirit. That’s the excuse I tell myself at least.) Which I later regretted and realized I didn’t need any of in the first place. Self-control doesn’t kick in for me until I’m like three chocolates from the bottom of the bag. On a 30-count bag. I know this. I’ve always known this. My sweettooth’s kicked my ass on multiple occasions, but I continue to allow it to. (This goes for alcohol as well. I can’t help but be concerned for my health after I take my lost shot four times.)
My worst transgression has got to be caramels. Actually, pretty much anything chewy. Milk Duds, Air Heads, Starbursts, Mamba, Hot Tamales, Cinnamon Bears, Bit-O-Honey, Big Hunk. The list goes on forever. I’ve resorted to single-serving sizes because there’s way too much guilt associated with these the next day. The next hour. Whatever. Haha.
Enough about Halloween, I’m stoked for tonight! October 25th, 2012 equals…Zella’s 21st birthday! I saw a wonderful cake idea on Tumblr a long time ago and it was the funniest shit ever. I bookmarked it because I had to do it. So I did.
I can’t cook or bake for shit, so I bought a basic white cake from Rosauers. An undecorated one. Well, I guess it had a frilly border and a little bit of added color on the corners, but that was fine. I did the writing first, in pink frosting it reads: “HAPPY 21ST BITCH!” Then I added the toilet, which is actually a funny story.
I must have went to 10+ thrift/secondhand stores, on numerous occasions mind you, in search of a damn toilet that would be somewhat size proportional to a Barbie doll. I was cool with an independent mission at first, this’ll be easy, Goodwill’s got shitloads of old Happy Meal toys and such, right? Fuck. I was up and down that aisle more times than the unsupervised five year olds who practically lived there. No luck! It got to the point where I was a few days away from my deadline so I would scout out the store associates for assistance. Do you know how awkward (hilarious really) it is to ask for help when the goal object of your search is a goddamn Barbie toilet?! Very fucking. Haha! But even then, I just could not find one!
The day before Zella’s big day, I visited Boo Radley’s and sure as shit, they have a ‘toilet shot glass’ sitting on the shelf. Boom! All I needed now was a Barbie, a ‘2’, a ‘1’, some candles, and a canister of colorful sprinkles, which were all conveniently checked off my list via the Dollar Tree on 29th Avenue. Woo hoo!
It actually turned out better than expected. Maybe it’s because I compare myself to the doll’s condition and get a good laugh, knowing damn well I was in a similar state on my 21st. (Props to Barbie for finding the toilet tho, I wasn’t quite that lucky. Haha!) Damn good times. A spectator for tonight’s little outing shouldn’t be too painful tho. Really, really, really looking forward to it actually.