So we are back to this day again. This holiday that I really love the concept of but so often feel let down by. So much prep, so little pay off. Maybe I just still yearn for the days when it was the all day a school, then Trick o' Treatin', and then a week or so of feasting on the spoils. Now it is frantically working on a costume in the early evening, rushing out the door to some party and then just left with detritus of costume making and a hang over.My pivotal moment was in Minneapolis. I had a crush on this girl from the restaurant I was working at. A bunch of us decided to go as Alice in Wonderland characters and it the big First Avenue Halloween party and then another party at a loft in the Warehouse District. I was going as the Mad Hatter (that was a good costume actually) and the object of my affection was going as Alice (yes, I have a bit of an Alice fetish... which we won't be going into today). All of us were meeting at First Ave., but I, in my over excitement/anxiety, arrived way too early... right after the doors opened. Since it was still happy hour, I filled the time with Long Island Ice Teas. Ah, the First Ave. L.I. Ice Teas... glorious things. Tasted vile but very large.
By the time everyone else arrived I had passed through tipsy and buzzed and was already two thirds of the way through drunk on my way to plastered. I tried to flirt but I quickly lost track of Alice. At some point the Caterpillar handed me her hookah while she went to dance. I eventually found the loud music was way too much for me and decided to head out to the loft party. It was only four blocks away, yet I managed to get lost. I physically could not read the street signs.
I stumbled onto the alley that supposedly held the entrance to the loft to find two police officers with flash lights searching the snow. Suddenly paranoia about what might be in the hookah I still held in my over-sized cartoon hands hit me. So I stumbled away. I realized the only think I could do was to head home. (I have no idea what time it was by that point but probably brutally early.)
But I could read street signs and I couldn't focus enough to wave down a cab (always a sketchy thing in Minneapolis at the best of times). So I walked. Around 4 miles. Which doesn't sound like a lot but it was a cold cold Minnesota night and I was under-dressed as the Mad Hatter, gripping onto a large hookah, and extremely drunk. Unclear how I made it home.
Anyway, it just seems that the higher my hope about Halloween, the greater my disappointment. The one aberration to that rule in recent years was the Massive Party the I (and others) through at the brownstone two years ago. And last year was okay, but i had no expectations, went out for only a couple of hours, and then ran home to start writing the novel at midnight.
Tonight I am going as the Santa of Death because I have all the parts at home. And I shall be hitting UCB's Halloween shows. And then who knows? I have no crushes, no expectations. If I get home early, I shall write. If I'm having fun, I shall stay out. It's Halloween, so I shall just try to "Yes...And" everything. I need to be doing more of that in my day-to-day life anyway.
