I went to a couple of Hallowe’en parties with Jen and Laura tonight. It took me a while to figure out what I was going to be, but since I am lucky enough to be living with the Fake Blood Queen, I would be stupid not to be dead in some bloody way. Everyone who is dead was also something else, other than dead. So I was a dead hockey player. I’m probably the only dead hockey player in history to be wearing Christian Dior eyeshadow.

Not bad, eh? Yes, we both know there would be more blood if I actually died from that, but we’re on a budget, ok?

Jen played the part of the sexy nurse tonight. The stethescope was significantly longer than her dress.

Laura’s costume was very creative. She dressed as chiaroscuro, represented conceptually by an elegant, somewhat art deco outfit in various shades from black to white. Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of it.

Good times. I’m glad we got a chance to dress up, although, at the party, we discussed the philosophical concept that we wear costumes every day, for whatever role we’re playing at the time.

Anyway, I was glad to have a shower and wash off the makeup when we got home. I don’t envy women for feeling like they to wear that goop all the time.