grrgoyl: (Vendetta V)
First order of business: I'd like you all to welcome my sister [ profile] amybrogna to the world of online journaling. You don't HAVE to friend her, but she's new and can use all the (virtual) friends she can get ;)

Second, my, my I've been busy. A few weekends ago I attended an Occupy Denver march with MyFriendDeb. It was inspirational and empowering, with about 2500 other Denverites joining us (couldn't find any official count anywhere). I made a sign which unfortunately no one understood and I had to explain to about four people:

The "53%" is the conservative counter-movement that appeared shortly after the 99% started really picking up. Their deal is that they are the 53% who actually work and pay taxes to make it possible for the lazy, dirty, welfare-sucking hippy 99% to sleep in parks and whine on sidewalks all day.

They haven't really caught on as quickly, as evidenced by their Facebook page likes in the 4 digits, while the original OWS FB page is in the 6 digits (because you're no one if nobody likes you on Facebook). You fail, 53%. You fail at social networking and you fail at life for continuing to buy into the fairytale that you might be in the 1% some day if you just work hard enough. Ain't gonna happen. I'll get to that later.

Fortunately I made another sign on the back that was much more popular:

Notice the highly relevant Banksy T-shirt as well

It was a lovely day for a march. The only low point came just after the march began. When we first arrived in the city we both had to pee badly (two old ladies with small bladders -- Wall Street better be shaking in its alligator skin boots). As we hurried downtown to catch up with the marchers, we passed a Portapotty left on the sidewalk for construction workers. It was open so I gladly availed myself. Deb though was too good for such humble facilities, so opted to wait -- until the march took us past one of the only public restrooms downtown, which is located way up behind the shops and set back in a service corridor of the open-air mall. She left to use it. I told her three times to be quick, then stood there helplessly as everyone marched past me. I gritted my teeth help me, if she put us at the back of the marchers....not quite, but I still wasn't terribly pleased. I'm not even going to teasingly ask you if you thought she apologized.

I was going to make a video of the day, set to the song "Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums" by A Perfect Circle -- which is actually perfect lyrically, if a little intimidatingly heavyhanded musically -- but lost interest fairly quickly in this project. I did save an album of photos of some of my favorite signs from the day.

This was the highlight of the march -- construction workers stepped up to high-five us. I switched course just to be able to pass them. The photographer who took this shot annoyingly makes all his photos look like WWII propaganda posters

Excellent question, my good sir

HA. Take that Cain, you self-made pompous fuck

So, the Occupy movement. Still have no idea what it's all about and why people can't just shut up and go back to their homes like good little Americans? It's not your fault if you don't -- the mainstream news has stayed determinedly willfully ignorant about it (when not going out of their way to slander it). For you I offer an Occupy 101 Primer to debunk some of the corporate-controlled media's favorite lies about it (warning: There is a LOT of information back here, but I've done my best to sum up days' worth of reading).

::Artists use lies to tell the truth...:: )

I kind of feel like the Occupy protestors are the ones who took Morpheus's red pill in The Matrix, and the rest of America are the ones taking the blue pill and still naively believing our government is working for us and our best interests. After learning all that I've learned, I don't see how it's possible for anyone, liberal, conservative or other, to disagree with Occupy. At the very least you have to admit, OWS may not have all the answers, but at least someone is finally asking the right questions.


I think television programmers are trying to distract us. Remember a sitcom that came out last year called "Outsourced," about a wacky bunch of Indians trying to adapt to an American business model while taking over off-shore US jobs? Putting a human face on large percentages of Americans losing their livelihood to this practice. This year we have "2 Broke Girls," about a Paris Hilton with a heart of gold whose poor father was the victim of a Ponzi scheme. We're supposed to sympathize with her family falling from the 1% and being forced to slog it out down here with us.

Forget religion--sitcoms are the new opiate of the masses. And have you noticed how many ads there are for luxury cars lately? It seems like Madison Ave is almost as out of touch as Wall St.


In health news, well, ::I've been quite busy here as well:: )


::Halloween:: )


Last but not least: The next time I talk to you, I will have gone to New York to see Rickman on Broadway!
grrgoyl: (Jayne momma's boy)
This is Halloween, this is Halloween...

I'm not sure where my inspiration for my costume came from this year. I already had the hat, but I'm pretty sure I did last year too. But it had the dual appeal of being relatively simple to put together, and being a character hardly anyone would recognize (I have a perverse need to go as really obscure things for Halloween; probably my way of ferreting out the "cool" people. Exhibit A: Rorshach from The Watchmen last year. Exhibit B: Max from Rushmore the year before. Exhibit C: Donnie Darko the year before that).

I went as Jayne Cobb from TV's Firefly. If you're staring at me blankly, I guess we now know which camp you're in (kidding).

I knew Chris the host would know me, since I gave him my DVDs of the show and movie when I acquired the Blu-ray versions. It bothered him that I chose someone with such questionable morals (he's a good man in a fight, but he did try to sell out Simon and River in that one ep), but I assured him my choice was based on owning the hat and not any special affinity with him (I lied. Jayne might be my favorite).

Here's the full length shot:

Big Damn Heroes

(I'm obligated to point out that the photoshop was Tery's idea. Without it you would have had a backdrop of a kind of messy living room and a TV playing From Dusk 'Til Dawn (pole dancer scene, NSFW).)

The drop holster and gun (BB) came from eBay. The rest was all thrift store and already owned, even authentic Bowie knife with sheath (not pictured anywhere, sadly) that I have for some reason.

This here's Vera. She's my very favorite gun

The goatee was a surprisingly big hit, mostly because no one even recognized me as me. People admitted they walked into the room and thought, "Wonder who the new guy is?" And Laura's beau Tyler took it a step further and thought, "Wonder who the new guy is? I'd consider going gay for him." The sweetest thing a girl wants to hear! (no, srsly -- I was ridiculously flattered.)

I'm considering growing one for reals

Tery went as "Glee's" Sue Sylvester. No one knew her either, except for one homo accompanying Tabby. Figures.

Two Janes (Lynch and Cobb)

The only other great costumes were Laura and Tyler, as a hillbilly family -- he's the redneck (in reality he's a civil engineer or somesuch, so the exact opposite), Laura is his sister bride and Kay is his cousin bride. Laura's mom is the proud redneck grandma.

Family of Tea Partiers

Almost no one else wore costumes. Lame. Chris and Liana (the hosts) were Shrek and Fiona, but very minimal interpretations (Chris had a mask and big green hands that he wore for all of 30 seconds). I don't have a decent picture of them.

Two-date Tabby (so called because she brings a posse with her everywhere) upped her game to Three-date, bringing her ex Denise (as a nondescript vampire with cool glue-in fangs, but nondescript nevertheless) and two boys wearing recycled costumes from previous years, Lame and Lamer. They spent the whole night trying to get the girls to leave, not realizing Tabby never departs before midnight.

I was mildly irritated because for the last month I've had practically every Saturday off because the hospital was so slow and there was no point in going in. Nowhere to go, so I spent these rare weekend nights off fighting to stay awake before finally passing out in front of the TV and being kicked off to the bedroom by Tery.

This weekend I finally had something fun to do, and the hospital was full of patients. Naturally. Not only did I have to give a bunch of pills and IV meds, I had to check a min pin's blood glucose, my most difficult duty. You have to draw blood from the tiny veins in their ears, which, lacking any scientific means of locating them, means randomly pricking them repeatedly and hoping for a gush. Most of the time I manage it because I'm dealing with very old, very sick dogs who are used to being poked with needles. One weekend I had a "will bite" dog I was supposed to check glucose on every two hours. He barely let me into the cage to straighten his IV line, so of course my feeling was "are you KIDDING me?" I was more than a little relieved when I called the doctor and was told they didn't honestly expect me to do it.

Anyway, I lucked out this time and hit a vein on the second try. I dashed around taking care of everyone else, and was back to the party within an hour. Not too terrible. Except whenever I have to go back to the hospital after a party is over, I find myself gripped by a bone-deep weariness and I can barely keep my eyes open so I might as well go home (but I can't).

On the other hand, I was thankful to have a reason to leave, or else Chris would probably keep me all night (on this occasion, doubtlessly to join him in a "Firefly" marathon). As it was, he cornered me on my way out to the hot tub (I wasn't going in, I was only going to chat with the people who did) and insisted I do a karaoke song with him.

The problem with Chris is he's an aging hippy who only likes music from the 70's. And, like most drunks, he's terribly insistent you indulge his requests, no matter how much you try to (politely) fend him off.

He was hellbent on singing a song by someone, couldn't remember their name, but while searching his collection came up with plenty of other options. He asked if I had heard The Carpenters. I said of course I had, but I wasn't a huge fan. "You need to revisit them, because they're AWESOME," he said determinedly. I did my best to convince him that I didn't like his music, it was nothing personal, but forcing me to "revisit" it was unlikely to change my mind. "I've got stuff from the 80's too," he responded with a wounded look on his face.

Fortunately Liana passed through at that moment and told him to leave me alone. I could have kissed her.

Speaking of music, no one, not even people who recognized me as Jayne, sang me his theme song. :(


Lair o' the Bear with Ger and Ter

The good news is I've FINALLY done Lair o' the Bear. Unfortunately I have no pictures to share because I forgot my camera. I blame Gerry, he's always in such a big damn hurry.

I'm especially sad to have no pics because it was Tery's first adventure with us. She finally got herself a mountain bike and this was her maiden voyage. She didn't fare too well -- fell twice (once to the left, once to the right), and got a flat on the downhill trip (Gerry and I were miles ahead of her. She had to rely on the kindness of a passing stranger. I felt terrible). She says she had fun, but now a few days later she's confessed to a bit of post traumatic stress disorder.

I'm bringing her to my nice easy relaxing Audubon Loop next weekend to try to create a good experience for her.

I was disappointed that for her first trip we didn't see any of the sinister-looking devil squirrels I see all the time in the mountains.

Alvin, Eater of Souls (and the occasional nut)

Tery's troubles notwithstanding, I loved the Lair, and it has moved to the top of my faves list. Pretty much like every other mountain trail minus 80% of the rocks and tree roots. A really sweet, smooth ride, especially on the downhill.

We dubbed ourselves the "Mixed Signals Gang" because as we climbed up, we passed a biker going down who asked me if there were any more behind us. I said yes because Gerry was back there. Gerry, who was RIGHT behind me (I hadn't realized), said no. Poor guy. So our nicknames became Geronimo Ger, Scrappy T (Ter) and I'm Indefatigable Elaine for lack of cool adjectives beginning with E. I'm certainly open to suggestions.

When we got back to town we were both so hungry we stopped at Five Guys, a sinfully delicious burger joint I haven't dared even glance at since the ER. I had the smallest slice of heavenburger they offer. I might have had some chest pressure later that night, or it could have been in my head. Well worth it.
grrgoyl: (Donnie frankLOL)
As promised, Halloween 2009.

Despite having a few weeks' notice this year (unusual for the crowd we hang with), I was drawing a blank on a costume. Tery tossed out a few suggestions, all of which I forget now (except I know one was Dr. Manhattan from Watchmen. How was I supposed to pull that off short of having a radiation accident myself and learning how to rearrange atoms?) Then she mentioned Rorschach from Watchmen, which I was just about to dismiss when after a little thought it occurred to me how easy (most of) it would be.

Sure, they make a manufactured costume, but the mask looks pretty ridiculous and it's pretty pricey for something I wasn't even sure would fit me (my noggin is as oversized as my feet):

Store-bought piece of crap

Trench coat from Goodwill (they had an entire rack of them): $12.
Fedora from eBay, cheap costume quality, with shipping (could have probably found cheaper if hat sizes weren't so hard to gauge online): $18.
Stocking for mask: $3.
Men's dress pants and shoes: Free (already in my closet).

That's it. Here's one pic of the result (more under the cut later):

Tery got smooched by Laura the Slutty Devil while I looked on disapprovingly

The mask obviously posed the biggest challenge. I scoured the internet, where I found plenty of fan forums discussing making your own. Unfortunately most of them were obsessed with having moving ink blots "like in the movie!" (guess what, morons -- in the movie his eyes are actually completely exposed and the blots are CGI'ed on later) This could apparently be achieved with the use of thermal paint that shifts when you breathe on it, but it involved a complicated process of more than one layer that I might not be able to breathe in and I'm sure would come at a higher price than I was willing to pay considering I expected no one to even recognize me.

That included a site I found,, where a guy sells his own that look nice, but not $49.99 worth of nice.

So I got a few pairs of tights and stockings to experiment with. At Target the only ones that came in white were little girls sizes, which were very difficult to see through. My grocery store had "ivory" nylons that were more promising. I played around a lot with making the tiniest possible pinholes for my eyes, until I just tried no holes for the heck of it and discovered I could see fine. In fact, the darker the room, the better I could see.

Then the blots. Everyone online suggested using a Sharpie, which would have taken a month to color in all the shapes and would have resulted in very clean edges. In a stroke of genius, I found in the back of our closet some "scuff remover" for shoes, essentially liquid shoe polish. When I blotted that onto the stocking, not only did it cover large areas quickly but came out nicely irregular and automatically created a "bleeding" effect on the edges of the pattern. Again on the fan forums someone had helpfully posted a sample pattern that I just printed out, stuck under the stocking as a template, and dabbed in. VOILA.

I was ridiculously pleased with the result after so little effort. Even if no one would recognize me.

You can see the mask better. Tabby came as Edward Scissorhands (store bought)

::More pics and party stories here:: )
grrgoyl: (Default)
I wasn't going to do anything for Halloween this year.    Our friends who host the parties have this damnably irritating habit of waiting until a week before the event to admit that yes, there will be one this year.    With the added hitch of having to work the kennels the night of the party, I had resigned myself to not bothering with a costume at all.

Then on Thursday Tery said Chris, host of the party and head vet tech, suggested I leave the hospital for a few hours, provided there were no hospitalized animals of course.  So now I DID have a party to go to and two days to come up with a costume.    Argh. 

"Fuck it," I thought.    I would just go as an ER nurse, since I'd be wearing scrubs already.  Boring, yes, but really the simplest course of action.  But when have I ever been known to take the simplest route in life?  If you guessed "Never," you were right.    It gnawed away at me all day Thursday until I realized that, somehow, I had to come up with a costume.  I had two smashing ideas, both of which would incorporate my trademarks of a good costume, 1) using as many existing items from my closet as possible, and 2) the more obscure the character the better.   

I desperately wanted to be Commander Wickstrom from the popular YouTube series "Chad Vader":

However, despite the massive popularity of Star Wars Halloween costumes, I realized tracking down just a Death Star soldier's helmet all by itself (read:  not part of a $40 complete outfit) would require more time and resources than I had available to me.  Poopie.  Cuz that would have been AWESOME (probably to only me, but I don't care).

My second (and final) choice was Max Fischer from Rushmore, one of my top ten favorite movies:

Yankee Racers, Founder

Friday evening my first stop was a thrift store to find a cheap blazer and ideally a beret.  Let me assure you, it was no mean feat finding a happy medium between my obsessive attention to detail and the very limited selection my local Goodwill offered.    The first Goodwill was kind of new so didn't have that much stuff, but I found a green blazer that didn't fit very well but looked sufficiently prep school (but the wrong color).  I decided to go to a second one I knew of just in case.  On my way I stopped at an exclusive Halloween shop, in hopes of finding a nerdy pair of glasses and a beret.    Stepping foot in there was akin to attempting to Christmas shop on Dec 24th.  There was a mad, mad rush to snatch up anything that was left.    Anything resembling a beret was a pipedream, and the closest glasses to what I was looking for were attached to a donkey nose and came with ears and a tail.    Truly one of the stupidest, laziest costumes ever marketed to the public.  Why on earth would a donkey wear big nerdy glasses?   

Which was a sentiment evidently shared by the cashier.    "You're really going out on a limb this year, huh?" she snorted.   

"I just need the glasses," I explained, and silently added but you're hardly in a position to mock.  Your store is selling the damn thing.

Still holding out hope for a beret, which I knew would be the pièce de résistance of the entire ensemble, I even stopped in a TJ Maxx and a Ross because they were in the same plaza, but apparently French headwear is even unpopular with the bargain basement crowd.    (I did have mixed feelings about the state of the Ross, however.  Everywhere I looked there were heaps of merchandise on the floor and sitting in shopping carts, easily 10 times worse than when we do inventory for them.  And I always thought they never lifted a finger to prep for us.)   

From there it was on to the second Goodwill, which sold no hats at all but did have a much larger selection of blazers.  I found a navy blue one that fit better and would be more accurate, but I had already bought the green one.  I also pawed through about 100 pairs of khakis to find a pair that matched my size except an inch shorter in length -- oh yeah.  I AM that hardcore about my costumes.   

It wasn't until I had gotten home, satisfied that at least half my costume was complete, when Tery called to tell me she DID have a beret in her huge hat collection after all.  This reminded me of the Halloween when I combed the city for a bowtie before remembering that Tery owned 3 of them from various bartending jobs.   

Saturday dawned with the realization that I had forgotten the necktie.  GodDAMMIT.    And the thought of that navy blue blazer still bothered me.  So as soon as I finished my day job I headed back to that Goodwill.  To my dismay, I saw they were having a sale, 50% off everything in the store, an event that can best be described with the words "feeding frenzy."    The good news is I got my blazer at half off the thrift store price.  The bad news is I had to wait in line for almost 20 minutes to pay for it.    People were freakin' camped out on the floor waiting in line.  It was crazy insane.

Last stop was Walmart for a tie.    Of course they have nothing resembling the classic two-toned striped private school tie, so I settled on what you see in the picture because it was vaguely striped and a clip-on.    Done!!   

Cost of gas driving all over town on this scavenger hunt:  $2 (my Honda is very fuel-efficient)   
Total cost of costume:  $20   
Knowing I'd have the coolest costume at the party:  Priceless

It WAS the coolest, if I say so myself.    Tery insisted repeatedly that I was going to all this trouble and no one would recognize me, but I'm pleased to report that she was vastly underestimating the popularity of the movie.    Only one couple had never heard of it, to whom I said, "You probably aren't impressed now, but one day you'll watch it and think of me and THEN you'll be awed, trust me."   

Chris the host recycled his pirate costume from 2 years ago, which frankly I consider cheating:

Don't hate him because he's beautiful

In this pic I convinced him to do a L'Oreal move with his flowing black wig.  He was just drunk enough to indulge me.

Too cute for words and absolutely necessary to include here was Avi, my friend's 1-year-old, as Pepe le Pew:


I hung out until 1 a.m. or so, then returned to the kennels.  But that is the subject of another post, as this one is already quite long.  Always leave 'em wanting more, something I probably rarely succeed in doing.    Happy Halloween, you fiends.
grrgoyl: (Donnie frankLOL)
Last night was the big Halloween shindig. It was fun as always, but had a slight pall of disappointment over the evening for lack of Ryan. The story is told best in pictures, so here we go.

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A few words about these costumes. I'm supposed to be Donnie Darko. See?

Image Hosted by

Look at the attention to detail. The brilliance of its simplicity. The lack of uncomfortable makeup. I loved it. No one else knew who I was, even the two people I knew had seen the movie. Damn. However, you can't see in this picture how small this costume was on me. The package promised the model was 5'9". Being only 5'6", I thought I was golden. But I guess my massive rack ate up 3 inches because I could barely stretch the suit up over my shoulders. Try as I might, the bottom hem came to mid-calf on me. "Constricting" doesn't begin to describe it. I don't know how mimes do it. I had to wear two layers of underwear to avoid some serious camel-toe issues. One day I'll find a costume I won't mind wearing all night long.

Tery, in the tradition of slapping something together hours before the party started and being the smash hit of the evening, is Hurricane Katrina. Credit for this idea has to go to my sister, who thought it might be too tactless to wear to work at St. Elsewhere's. But nothing's too tactless for this crowd! She even included a broom in homage to [ profile] ridiculicious's Columbian landlady, who believes all water-related catastrophes just need the judicious application of a broom to fix things.

::you know damn well you want to click for more pictures!!:: )

I came home and tried to watch "Top 100 Scariest Movie Moments," which was frustrating. I would see the beginning of #33 and doze off and wake up for #25. Still, there's no finer feeling in life than curling up in your bed at 4 a.m. knowing you can sleep as long as you want. *sigh*

Happy All Hallow's, everyone
grrgoyl: (buffycorpse)

I am sick, I really really am.   I went to a Halloween party and spent almost the whole time imagining how I would approach this very post you have in your hot little hands.   That's just not normal.   Damn you, LJ.   Damn you to hell.    But anyway, here we go!

Another Halloween, another party at Chris and Lianna's (Tery's coworkers).    I can say this about their parties without fear of contradiction....when they're good, they're very, very good.   And when they're bad, they're disastrous.  

But before I get too far along, the real reason for this post:   ::clicky clicky for piccie piccie:: )

So anyway, the night was largely fun and uneventful.   Tery just kept serving up the food, trying not to get irritated because everyone was forced to congregate in the too-small kitchen due to the 30-degree weather.   She goes all out on these things, she makes steak, stuffed mushrooms, deviled eggs, roasted veggies, shrimp, all out of her own pocket.   In actuality, SHE is throwing the party, she is just using Chris and Lianna's house.   "Two-Date" Tabby was uncustomarily alone so was paying me more attention than she has in a long time (but nice, friendly attention, not angsty, intimate attention).   She said next year she'd have to come up with four dates to even her average out.   One of the partiers not pictured was Brian, which doesn't make him any less important.   He was the annoying guy from a previous party I described.   By the time I arrived, he was pretty drunk and equally as annoying as before, shaking some kind of plastic voodoo stick at people belligerently and cursing up a storm.   Awww, hell, here he is (with a happier Tabby):

We'll get back to him later, don't you worry, but you can see what a winner he is.  

I was having a reasonably good time, even though this is the kind of party where if someone is off by themselves suddenly, chances are good they are either vomiting or getting high, and that just ain't my scene.   Tabby was mixing shots;   I had two (though not at the same time) and they barely touched me, despite Tabby's assurance they were at least 50% vodka.   I must be turning hardcore.   It was cool, we were chillin', laughing, everything a party should be.    Then Parker showed up.

Parker is Carrie Parker, a peculiar, quiet, lonely kind of woman who for some reason or another has taken quite a shine to me, despite Tery's belief that she's straight.  Tery doesn't like her because she shows up to the parties, never brings so much as a bottle of pop as contribution, and feeds her face all night long.   Sometimes she'll sneak upstairs and nap until after midnight, when Tery breaks out the king crab legs and mussels she saves for the after-party party with herself and the hosts...then Parker will reappear suddenly to partake in that too.  I don't like her because she spends the entire party sitting in a corner and STARING at me, and it makes me understandably uncomfortable.    It's not a flattering, mutual attraction kind of's a creepy, Fatal Attraction kind of stare.   I'd post a picture of her if I could get one without her taking it completely the wrong way.   I thought I was being kind by avoiding her all night, not leading her on, what have you, until at one point she unfortunately intercepted a look I had intended for Tery, and returned it happily.   She almost immediately realized her mistake, and disappeared so quickly she could only be fleeing in embarrassment.   I was mortified for her, but what are you supposed to do in these situations?   "I'm sorry that look wasn't for you, but you really shouldn't be expecting one"?  

The night was winding down and I was thinking about leaving.   That is until Brian went missing.    He was wasted out of his mind on 4 shots of tequila (at the same time) and lord knows how many hits of pot...Chris had left him outside and came in to tell his girlfriend that she really needed to bring him home, and somewhere in the space of time it took her to put on her coat, he had wandered off.   Chris and Lianna live in one of those annoying subdivisions with the endlessly branching streets that all look identical.   I would easily get lost myself stone cold sober if I didn't know their street name and the one unwavering route I take to get there.    So half of us took off on foot in case he was sleeping on someone's lawn, and the other half went by car in case he was mobile to catch up with him.   It was freezing cold, and the general agreement was if it had been summer, we would have gladly just let him sleep wherever he was.   I had no love of the guy, but really didn't wish him dead either.   As we walked up and down the street, Tabby made the hilarious comment, "You know, you come to these things to have a good time, eat a little, drink a one wants all this fucking drama!"   This was hilarious because clearly she had no memory of running down the middle of this very same street, drunk out of her mind, screaming at her ex-girlfriend hysterically at 2 am.   Ahhh, good times......    

An hour later there was still no sign of him, and there was talk of calling the cops, an idea that made Chris (and his sizable pot supply) a little nervous.    Brian's girlfriend was apologetically telling all of us, "He's never run off before, he's never run off before" as if that would somehow change the reality that he had this time.    I sort of wanted to smack her a little, mostly for not trying to cut him off before it got to this point.   I mean, he was absolutely out of control all night and she did nothing.   Eventually I was forced to admit I was being a tad hypocritical hanging around when I really didn't know the guy very well, so I left at about 2 am.   

I got home and barely had time to tend the farm (feed cats, give Alsatia insulin shot, put bird to bed) when Tabby called to tell me Brian had been picked up by other partygoers on their way home.   What a relief.   Whatever.   I curled up on the couch to watch the last 20 minutes of Leprechaun in a pleasantly exhausted stupor.    I'll admit, Leprechaun seemed like good, mindless fun, but I wasn't so zoned out I didn't notice that this had to be the lamest, least frightening, stupidest horror movie I'd ever seen.   Not that it pretends to be anything else, but Jesus.   Granted I missed most of the movie, but I mean....the leprechaun never actually hurts anyone, just runs after them a lot (really hard to buy when his legs are only half as long as his intended victim's...explaining perhaps the even more comical wheelchair chase, with painfully amateurish speeded-up frames) saying, "I want me gold!  I want me gold!"   Then he finally catches the kid that I swore was Carol Anne's brother in Poltergeist and all he does is roll him around a little on the ground, hardly a fate worse than death.   And the whole horrible mess starred none other than Jennifer Aniston, barely recognizable (perhaps that was the point) with dark brown hair and wearing prominently featured LA Gear sneakers no less.            

Happy Hallowee......zzzzzzzzzz

grrgoyl: (Default)
Well, I would call the night a rousing success and a good time was had by all (some noticeably more good than others).

I fulfilled my dream of having my Crow costume viewed by people old enough to vote. Considering I had to work and flew home, donning the entire thing in less than a half hour, I was quite pleased with the result:

Tery infuriated me for the second year in a row with her thrown-together outfit. Last year she recycled a store-bought judge's robe (from her Judge Judy get-up), bought a boy's clip-on necktie, hot-glued it with yellow ribbon stripes, pulled a sweater out of her closet with some kind of crest and voila! she was "Tery Potter." (The irony is she has never, nor ever will, read any of the books. >:( ) This was all in the space of perhaps 15 minutes, while I spent at least 2 weeks preparing my Braveheart costume.

This year she took it one step farther. After her usual indecision leading to the event, she finally borrowed one of my kilts and a sporran, threw on a Hawaiian shirt from her closet, and pronounced herself a "Scotsman on vacation." Now, I am all for homemade costumes, obviously, and the more you can use from your everyday environment, the better (I am very proud that all my Crow required was black clothing which I have in abundance, a generous supply of electrical tape (for the hand/wristbands) and a $2 facepainting kit from Walmart. Genius in it's money-saving simplicity). However, I draw the line at pulling things randomly out of your closet and then NAMING yourself based on what you find (although I guess she should get points for that extra level of creativity. Considering her first choice was to wear regular clothes and be a "nudist on protest.") In the middle of the party she realized she could have gotten one of those inflatable Sumo wrestler costumes and be "Fat Bastard." See what happens when you wait until the last minute? Such a good idea wasted.

Here There Be More Photos )

For me by far the highlight of the evening was with Tabby's new friend Danny. I unfortunately didn't get a picture of him, but he came as a very convincing nerd and there was a running joke all night (started by him) that he wasn't in disguise at all (although I have never seen a nerd pop-and-lock or imitate Michael Jackson as well as he did). The Halloween mix CD started playing "Thriller" and everyone was dancing and remembering the video fondly. Danny told us how it terrified him as a kid. As Vincent Price's monologue wound down to diabolical laughter at the end, Danny could be heard animatedly describing the extremely-well-known video to a (seemingly) rapt audience on the couch...."and then, at the end, he turns into a ZOMBIE, man! and...." I interrupted, disbelievingly asking who on planet Earth still hadn't seen the video. Everyone in the group nodded and said, "Oh, we've all seen it!" I turned to Danny and said, "My god, you ARE a nerd!" I didn't mean it insultingly, and he was good-natured enough to laugh at himself. But the really funny thing came later when, with a much larger group in the room, the incident was retold and Danny mimicked me running over to ask who hadn't seen it, only the way he told it I sounded remarkably like George McFly. I couldn't even breathe for a good minute or two, he had the whole room in tears.

Definitely one of the best Halloween parties ever!

grrgoyl: (Default)
This entry was actually inspired by [ profile] swankyfunk's Halloween costume entry (but I realized this could get quite lengthy (as all my entries do) so I just put it here).

What to be for Halloween, the perennial question. But unlike [ profile] swankyfunk, I take dressing up more seriously. Ever since I was a young 'un I took great pride in creating my own costumes. No store-bought, prefabricated, polyester, paper-masked affairs for me, oh no! The one that started it all was my Rubik's Cube, accomplished ingeniously enough with a cardboard box and construction paper (oh yeah, I was a wunderkind, there's no denying it). The following year I was Mork from Ork (granted my mother had to help me with the iron-on silver triangles....okay, so sometimes my imagination overreached my grasp. Which come to think of it is still true about more things than just costumes). After that I returned to the box genre and made an R2D2 costume (again, ridiculously simple....but nevertheless got rave reviews). The next year I was Peter Criss from Kiss (mostly because his makeup, etc. seemed by far the easiest rather than any special affinity for him (although I still think he was the cutest)).

There followed a lapse in either memory or photo documentation or both, or perhaps I decided temporarily I was too big for Halloween. For whatever reason, the next costume I can remember designing was Edward Scissorhands in college (complete with aluminum foil-wrapped scissorhands....believe me, if I can devise a way I always prefer maximum authenticity, but it somehow seemed inadvisable to attend the school dance with 6-inch shears strapped to my fingers). This was a huge success and I got so many requests from people wanting to wear my scissorhands that by the end of the night they were looking somewhat worse for wear (but I lovingly repaired them and mounted them on my bachelorette wall like a trophy, proudly displayed until some years later when I moved in with Tery and she judged them not fitting with our decor.....Pfffffffft. I disagreed, but there we are). The year after that I recycled parts of this costume to make myself into Robert Smith (The Cure) as The Spider Man in the "Lullaby" video. I thought this costume was excellent, and was completely unfazed that no one else knew what I was supposed to be. It wasn't MY fault they weren't as cool as me.

Again a lapse in creativity occurred until Tery and I moved to Denver, but I think this was more due to lack of social events than lack of desire. The next memorable costume I remember making was The Crow, a hugely wasted effort because we stayed home and the only witnesses to my genius were a parade of prepubescent trick-or-treaters that weren't even old enough to watch the movie. Damn and blast. A couple of years ago for a party I had only a pair of plastic strap-on batwings, and from that I built a "punk demon," with Marilyn Mansonesque raccoon makeup, a fishnet shirt, Army pants ripped into shorts, Beetlejuician striped tights and combat boots (I even dyed my hair black to match, a mistake I don't think I'll ever make again). Not my best creation, I will readily admit, but still lightyears ahead of the hostess, who wore a "bleeding" alien mask, a store-bought black robe, and, inexplicably, a New Year's Eve party hat. Ugh. Amateurs. (It didn't matter. We were all shown up by a kid wearing a Darth Vader costume that looked stolen straight off the Star Wars lot. I was in awe.) I felt much better about my choice last year, a fairly recognizable approximation of William "Braveheart" Wallace.

Which brings us to this year. I wasn't even motivated to think about a costume until our friends' party was confirmed, which they finally did about 4 days ago. I was originally toying with the idea of being Frank the Demonic Bunny from Donnie Darko: Image hosted by This was appealing both in its fright factor as well as obscurity (ever since the "Spider Man" outfit I have had a secret penchant for obscure disguises. In fact, my absolute favorite shelved costume idea is Terry Jones' cardinal (Biggles?) in the Monty Python Spanish Inquisition sketch, complete with handlebar moustache and aviator cap. Mr. Gumby is a close second). Obviously the biggest problem with this was the mask. I poked around a bit on eBay, and actually found an authentic-looking homemade one up for auction. So authentic-looking, in fact, that the bidding closed at $260: Image hosted by Hoooo boy. If I were to spend that much on a mask, I would definitely have to find excuses to wear that baby year round, weddings, family reunions, grocery shopping, you name it. The mask aside, it was also surprisingly difficult to find an adult rabbit suit (unless I wanted a "sexy" rabbit suit a la Playboy. Not quite the look I was going for). I tentatively bought a cheap rubber mask that vaguely resembled Frank's facial contours, planning to paint it silver later and reconfigure the teeth somehow. That was as far as I got when it became unseasonably warm. As in Connecticut, one of the decisive factors when choosing a costume in Colorado is the weather (as I found out the hard way last year, freezing my ass off in my kilt in 30-degree weather). I imagined being trapped all night in a sweaty mask and furry rabbit suit, and suddenly saw no reason why I couldn't be The Emcee instead, certainly a far breezier option (and tery suggested I could bring my ferret Griffyn and cat Alsatia to be my "Two Ladies" lol).

I immediately set off for the key ingredients, but who knew a pair (or two) of suspenders and a bowtie would be so damn hard to find? After trying a few stores in vain, I ended up in Walmart. Wandering around the superstore for what felt like hours, I finally found the suspenders (and when I say "I found" I mean I gave in and asked an associate for help. I swear I walked past that belt rack 10 times and never once saw the suspenders in the back. I blame the unnatural lighting and generally surreal atmosphere of a Walmart after 8 p.m.) I then wasted close to another half hour searching for a bowtie (and was giving serious consideration to finding a teddy bear I could steal one from) before remembering that Tery was a bleeding bartender for 15 years and had at least 3 in her drawer from past uniforms. I got home and put the ensemble together, unfortunately realizing that my original idea of wearing a plain white t-shirt (damn these boobs) wouldn't look nearly as good as wearing a plain white tank top. And it wasn't QUITE balmy enough to get away with that. Sigh. So I ultimately decided to resurrect my Crow outfit (heh-heh, sly movie reference there), hopefully for a more appreciative audience.

Happy Halloween


grrgoyl: (Default)

December 2011

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