Gobble it Up Little Thankfulses

Welcome back indulgent few! I hope you ate yourselves into a silly stupor like I did this weekend. Mmm… eating myself into a silly stupor… that sounds so great. SO GREAT! SO! GREAT!

Of course, I have naturally committed to a non-accomplishable goal of skipping the sugary substances until Christmas like the rest of you weak-willed pot bellied suckers. Let us be suckers together! I give it one week. Who can resist a maple cookie or ginger snap? Or anything boasting peppermint accents and warm chocolaty ANYTHING! Losers. That’s who. Do you want to be a loser? Me neither. Eat, Drink and be Merry! For in January, we'll all be a huffin and a puffin on neighbor treadmills together. Alas.

Anyway…

I thought I’d jump on the bloggery bandwagon and give you a list of “Me So Thankfuls.” Tis the season. I realize this is post-Thanksgiving and by rights, Christmas is “legally” acknowledged with the behest of Black Friday. But you know me… I like to ruminate on things and then spew it forth in my own due time… generally a little post-facto. I’d also like to get into the knitty gritty of this thankful business and really pull out some miniature gems of simple happiness that make my day to day existence worth facing. You won’t find a bunch of blather about family or friends or America or “food on my table” on THIS list! No sir-ee-bob! When I say it’s about the little things… I take it to a whole new level. Perhaps it would do you some good to really get down to the nuts and bolts of the tiniest things that you’re thankful for. Eh? Scrap the bottom of that proverbial barrel.

Me So Thankfuls List

• Word-smithery. The fact I just threw out such words as “behest,post-facto, and blather” without blinking an eye makes me very grateful for my self-proclaimed title of Word-Smith. Behest?!? Who does that?!? This guy. And I think I almost used it right too. What do you know anyway?
• The semi-colon. A fantastic grammatical tool combining two very separate yet related sentences into one. It gives my writing flow; it gives it stream of thought. You see what I did there?
• A really smooth ball point pen. None of that inky splotch sort of fancy stuff for me! I write in cursive rather exclusively (right?!?!) and a nice ball point pen makes the curve and flow of the cursive hand smooth and magical.
• Sporks. It’s a spoon, it’s a fork. Enough said.
• Washing my face at night. Oh heaven! Oh bliss! I love wiping of the days grim with a warm wash cloth and seeing my bespeckled cheeks shine through rosy and clean. I’m thankful for washcloths! I’m thankful for Clinique Face Foam! No really... I LOVE CLINQUE FACE FOAM!
• The smell of books. Yep. I’m that weirdy you saw sniffing the books in the Fiction section of Barnes and Noble. I snatch me a book, examine its bindings and coverings, hold the pages close to my nose and flip through while inhaling deeply. Sniffing a good book is almost as good as sniffing freshly copied paper. In grade school I’d sniff a newly printed assignment before beginning to tarnish it with ink and lead. Saver the smells.
• Bill Paxton – for being that “one guy… ya know… UGH! What is his name?!? He's in... stuff!” in any movie or TV show that requires some amount of talent but not a lot of face-memory. He also did a fine job in Twister.
• Bejeweled Butt Jeans. Seeing women of the 40+ age bracket sporting them reminds me that I am what they want to be without having to wear bejeweled butt jeans. I’m a 20 something.  It also gives me a false sense of superiority realizing that they are getting a false sense of superiority derived from sporting a bejeweled butt at $200 a pop. Vicious circle… but I’m grateful for it.
• Miracle Whip – oh the tangy zip!
• Dust. I like dusting! Thus, when dust besets my table tops, dressers, book shelves, and black TV stand, I skip happily to the cleaning product cupboard, selecting my Orange scented Pledge and dust rag with almost palpable ecstasy at the prospect of de-dusting my furniture to an almost sparkling newness, and proceed in a twirling Poppins-esque enthusiasm around the room, wiping as I go! Oh dust! Thank you!
• Comeuppance. I get no greater satisfaction then when weasely bad guys get their comeuppance! And it’s more so when it’s the douschy little side kick rather than the full blown villain. Grah! I can’t stand snively little sidekicks that are more annoying than they are villainy. But I like it when the villains get their’s too. Take that! 
• Mouse Glue Traps. 
• Spell Check
• All Day Marathons such as but not limited to: Lord of the Rings Trilogy presented on Encore this weekend commercial free; America's Next Top Model all day marathons on Oxygen (she suddenly realized that what had begun as a potentially productive Saturday morning had now dimmed like the 6 daylight hours that had so easily slipped by), A Christmas Story all day on TNT Christmas Eve, Harry Potter marathons a la ABC Family, and any other all day epic marathons that steal your day in a flurry of Orc battles and ring bearing! 

And there are a few things that make my life a little more worth living. What about you? What’s your Spork?

Spiders and Me

This blog hit it on the HEAD! The proverbial hairy 6 glinting eyes pincer fangs head! Shudder.

 

I HATE spiders.   Spiders are like little pieces of death wrapped in scary.  Even if a spider was like

I'd be all

It Ain’t No Stuart Little

Mouse! In the house! More like mice… but that didn’t rhyme so I had to stick with the singular there. Never the less; we have mice!  In our HOUSE! Pretty gross, right? Only gross because they are diseased ridden little varmints that scurry and scratch and dart and poop. Other than that, I find them kinda cute. What? How many movies/TV shows/literary characters can you name off the top of your head that showcases an adorable wee mouse and his or her mousey adventures?

• Stuart Little – Duh
•   Fievel Mousekewitz
• Mickey Mouse – duh
• Minnie Mouse – naturally
• Mrs. Brisbee
• Mighty Mouse! 
•   Basil of Baker Street aka the Great Mouse Detective
• Benjy Mouse and Frankie Mouse from a Hitch hikers Guide to the Galaxy
• Bernard and Miss Bianca – the Rescuers!
•  Chuck E Cheese
• Itchy – Itchy and Scratchy Show
•  Jerry – of Tom and Jerry
• Mr. Jingles – the Green Mile
• Pinky and the Brain
• The Three Blind Mice

Am I right? So though I understand people’s dislike of mice because of their carrying such diseases as the Hanta virus… which I just looked up and am now sufficiently freaked out!  Sometimes WEBMD is a blessing and a curse, am I right? But just in case I do contract the Hanta and effectually DIE like 60% OF THOSE WHO CONTRACT IT THROUGH MOUSE EXCREMENT…. I bequeath my book collection to Jaime, my clothes to Camille, and the $170 I have in my checking account to brother Nick. He’s a poor student and could use the help. The rest of my goods I expect to be sold at auction and the moneys given to the Fight Against Hanta Virus Non Profit Organization. I’m sure it exists somewhere. 

Anyway… what was I saying before crafting my living Will? Ah yes, how diseased rodents are kinda cute.

I first discovered our little mouse problem while watching an X-Files (Season 7!!) at home one night. I caught the varmint out of the corner of my eye as it skittered out of the fireplace and under our wood pile thing (scientific term). At first I thought, “If that was a huge spider, I’m moving out tonight!” And I rightly would have until the rodent made an attempt for the bookcase and I could see it was a little gray mouse instead of the eight legged creatures of my nightmares. Phew! Relief! I really hate moving.

Which brings me to another tangent…

On top of MICE problems we’ve also been combating a “spider in the tub” issue and I tell you I am an exhausted wreck because of it! I can’t take it! I have a very bad case of Arachnophobia and having to face some disgusting scurrying eight legged nasty first thing in the morning is not the “wake me up” I prefer. Oh gag. Oh loathing. I freaking hate spiders. FREAKING! In fact, my attempts to work out in the morning have been very successful with the promise of a spider free facility shower. This is me being more optimistic. Seeing the silver lining in my NIGHTMARES! How’d I do?

So now with both a spider and mouse problem – we decided it was time to kill the suckers. Kill ‘em real good. We called an exterminator who scheduled an appointment for Monday morning.Little did we know we were about to face the longest weekend of our lives. 

My poor roomie Alex made the decision to call the exterminator when she discovered that the mice had been having a Fiesta in her bedroom closet. She keeps protein and energy bars in a basket on the floor. Energy bars! And the FLOOR! So not only had these sneaky mice found the foody jackpot, they were all hopped up on complex carbs! “Hey fella’s! Look what I can do!” as he propels his fur-ball body from clothes hanger to clothes hanger, shitting as he goes. And boy to mice shit!! EVERYWHERE! Always! What’s more, do you know mice can procreate at 6-8 weeks old? Slut-mice! AND! AND! They can dump a 10-20 (TWENTY!) varmint liter in as little as 4-6 DAYS! What the hell?!?! So we could have great, great, great, Granny  Mouse leaping around hopped up on energy bars in as little as 2 weeks! This could only spell one thing, major anxiety and gross infestation.

Still, with images of Stuart Little and Mrs. Brisbee in my head, I convinced Alex to try the “humane” little traps first. Ya know, those little boxes you can catch them in and then take them to a field where they may roam free as wild mice! When those proved a complete failure, she opted for the glue sheets.  No mercy. Upon laying down glue sheets in her now completely cleaned out closet (full of gaps and holes by the way – yep – we were just asking for it! Come on in mouse! The front door is wide wide open… so is the back door and side door and a couple of windows… oh… and here’s some food within reach too). This was at about 5pm Saturday afternoon. I came home from a baby shower at 6:30pm and found a squeaky mouse struggling on a glue sheet. It was kinda sad and also kinda an internal vindication. I picked up the glue sheet (that’s right! I’m bad-ass) and walked Granny Mouse out to the garbage. Don’t worry, I prayed later that her death would be quick… she would fall asleep in the winter night and freeze. That was my hope. 

Alex came home and I told her of the adventure. She promptly went to lay down another sheet and just as she was placing it on the floor… FLYING MOUSE!!! It leaped out of a hole and face planted onto the glue sheet. Mouse #2’s attempt to flee was easily thwarted and leaving Alex to her panic attack, I walked  Papa Mouse out to join his hooker mother in the garbage can… a brief prayer to usher him in. Two mice in 3 hours! Didn’t bode well. The next day, Sunday, when we came home from church… Alex came running out of her bedroom because one of the sticky papers was gone. GONE? How could it be gone?

Here’s how…

TWO MICE! TWO MICE had fallen onto the glue trap and one of them had only stuck by its hind legs. With his front legs, he was attempting to drag them both to safety, “I can’t carry it for you! But I can carry you!” A fool’s errand! And as a picked up glue sheet three, he knew his struggles were in vain. I plopped these next two in with the others before them, making note that the other two from the night before were definitely dead. This made me feel a little better though at this point I was considering putting their heads on pikes and sticking them in front of crevices and holes around the house as a warning to other mice. Keep away! 

Instead, we opted to hold out for the exterminator and come Monday morning, he came galloping up on his white horse and placed “poison blocks” strategically around the house. He guaranteed us that if we saw a single mouse within 10 days they’d come back and dispose of them again. They ALSO said if we saw more than 6 (SIX?!?) spiders within 10 days they’d come back. They sprayed all around the house AND extra in the bathroom. I asked Alex if she gave him a big hug and slobbery kiss from both of us. She said she seriously thought about it – then felt weird. I said he probably gets a lot of love from a lot of ladies ALL THE TIME. That sly dog. 

So we shall see if the pests are good and taken care of. We shall also see if we start manifesting flu like symptoms centralized in the lungs in the next 2-3 weeks. If that happens, I bid you all a fond adieu with this advice: Screw Stuart Little! Just kill the bastards.

Some Lyrics

Turning Tables - Adele

So I won't let you close enough to hurt me, no

I won't ask you, you to just desert me

I can't give you what you think you gave me

it's time to say goodbye to turning tables, turning tables

Next time I'll be braver, I'll be my own savior

When the thumb that cost me

Next time I'll be braver, I'll be my own savior

Standing on my own two feet

---------------------------------------------

Innocent - Our Lady Peace

Oh, [She's] losing faith in what she knows

Hates her music, hates all of her clothes

Thinks of surgery and a new nose

Every calorie's a war

While she wishes she was a dancer

And that she'd never heard of cancer

She wishes God would give her some answers

And make her feel beautiful

----------------------------------------------

 Fix You - Coldplay

When you try your best but you don't succeed

When you get what you want, but not what you need

When you feel so tired but you can't sleep

Stuck in Reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?

-------------------------------------------

H& M Brings Me One Step Closer to Perpetual Cat Ladyery (ladery?) and Puts a Few Things Into Stark Perspective

H&M opened this weekend at Fashion Place Mall (HURRAY!). Now, as a country bumpkin - I generally don't like large crowds; particularly if those large crowds consist of crazy eyed self-proclaimed fashionista's with huge strollers and nothing pressing them for time at 2:30 in the afternoon on a weekday. Stereotype so established. Thus, I wasn't planning on visiting my now very LOCAL H&M until several months after its "grand opening" to avoid such crowds (and reinforcing stereotypes ;)). In fact, I didn't even visit the Cheesecake Factory for easily a year AFTER it opened in SLC because the lines are atrocious and I couldn't understand "what the big deal was." Well, I'm so happy I found out because that place is freaking delicious! Lines? What LINES??? I will wait as long as it TAKES to pay $17 for the most delicious plate of garlic pasta I've ever EATEN!!!

Back on topic.

SO! I don't like large crowds particularly if its brimming with the a fore mentioned stereotypes, thus effectively putting my H&M Utah plans on hold until after the holiday season. BUT, I suddenly had an internal conflict with this plan this weekend as I am ALSO a very good daughter. Didn't you know? And my mom came to visit me for some mother/daughter shopping, eating, and ballyhoo time and of course, OF COURSE, we had to go Fashion Place Mall - it easily becoming the best mall in the state with such additions as the afore mentioned H&M, Crate and Barrel, Anne Taylor Loft, Apple Store, and the usual bought of awesomeness: JCrew, Banana Republic, and Nordstrom. I think I just salivated all over my keyboard. Shoppy shoppy nom nom! Spendy Spendy!

Yep, you guessed it. Being a good daughter won out and we went to H&M, opening weekend, as Christmas approaches. Madness! We had to stand in line for about 15 minutes to get in the store. Have you ever had to do this? You know I haven't because of my crowd aversion and general avoidance of "hype." It was pretty amazing how people eyed each other - making snap judgements about your worthiness to have a presence at such a grand opening. At least I'm spending my own money, Princess. Oh snap. Presence we were granted and upon entering the store - we were assailed with Club/Techno/Whippersnapper music BLASTING our senses and shaking the walls. Why do they have to do that? Why? I don't understand why the shopping experience must be assailed with BOMP! BOMP! BOMP! the entire time. UN-PLEASANT!

But what WAS pleasant was the 15 pairs of new socks (I only have work out socks... and they get eaten by Zooey periodically), scarf, and ridiculously "me" (dahling) dress and blazer I purchased amongst the madness.

OBSERVE!

You're asking yourself - what is that face you are making? It's a "did it take?" face. Phone cameras are sneaky little blighters!

Yes that's right. My dress is head to toe cats! And not just any head to toe cats - head to toe cats with BOW TIES! Cat-lady Andrea is well on her way!

Though I did purchase a few choice items and it was cool to go into the new store - it was also somewhat disheartening to see this middle and upper class American line to get into a moderately priced retail store; stomping and cutting (in line...not flesh... but I can see how it would've come to that eventually) and bumping and shoving and eying each other for a $20 blazer or $10 stripped socks. I had women edging me out of looking at a shirt or leggings simply because they must have thought I would take the last one... when it was clear we wouldn't have even worn CLOSE to the same size anyway. The passive aggressiveness rating scale was off the chart. And for what? Apparently one's true character shines through when sweater tights are on the line.

Now, don't get me wrong - I really like shopping. I like it a lot and if it's a good deal - I'm a sucker for it. But I couldn't help but have a small existential moment realizing that in America, where we stand in line for H&M's or the newest IPhones or midnight showings of Vampire Love movies; acting like children and  anxiously climbing over each other in angst - somewhere else in the world people are standing in line for their one meal a day, a crust of bread, or vaccines against diseases American children have enjoyed for decades. We reduce our character to shreds and curb our humanity for wool sweaters, or video games when fathers who have lost their jobs stand in unemployment lines and mothers go hungry again so their children will have enough to eat that night. And this doesn't happen in a country far far away - but in our own cities and neighborhoods.

To me, it's curious and even disappointing what we will stand in lines for sometimes. Is this really a good use of our time and resources? And for heavens sake, what happened to downright common decency? No, I don't think that standing in line for H&M makes someone a bad person. I don't think it's a bad thing to like to shop and enjoy some nice things if you can afford them. I just ask for a realistic amount of perspective and a polite "excuse me" now and again. I don't think waiting in line at an H&M provides justification for leaving your humanity at home so you can be the first one to use your stroller as a battering ram to the jeans section of a retail store. But maybe I don't get out enough.

What's that? I've not mentioned my watching of the X-Files in awhile?

Well I'm so sorry! I know how much you enjoy my obsession of yester-year coming back to haunt my blog posts. Sometimes it's good to remind yourself why you liked these sorts of things when you were younger. And even more interesting is what you see them for now - years hence. I'd say that my revisiting of the X-Files with my more molded 28 year old brain vs. my 16 year old brain has brought some new enjoyments and insights into the mythology and magic of this unique series classic. It's also a good gauge of how much you've progressed (or not) changed your perceptions (or not) and how you internalize things differently (or not). What indulgences of yester-year have you not thought of in awhile? Are you a Trekkie? Did you love Xena Warrior Princess? How about your love of Full House or Home Improvement? Give yourself the gift of nostalgia this holiday season, why don't you? Dig up those simple things that used to take you places that only those truly good stories really could. It's why we love these things isn't it? It's why we obsess and discuss and hold forums and blogs... so we can talk about things more than the mundane. So we can escape the ho-hum of everyday. I think there's some magic in that... and a little medicine as well.

Somethings, will always remain the same. It's worth conjuring up the same excitement and curiosity. It's also nice to maybe go a little Freud on yourself and figure out why these things so appealed to you as much as they did. A little insight for me? I've always admired and even worshiped strong women. Scully... Xena (it's true)... Dr. Crusher (little Trek in there)... there's a pattern here. And the pattern is strength and confidence and kicking the crap out of someone if you need to and proving your mettle through your mind rather than your hips. I don't think that's such a bad thing to admire, is it?

Our adoration's of yesterday offers us an escape from the every day and reminds us of what we once were.  Enjoy a mini-chick flick moment whether you were an X-Filer or not. It's still worth an "Aw."

Upon Writing: Some Definitions

There are times when I read things... and some stuff... but mostly things... where during said reading I get annoyed. I don't know why I feel this way. If the grammar is sound and the structure intact, and heck, if there are a few creative adjectives spirited throughout the prose then what's my problem? WHAT'S MY PROBLEM?!?!? WHY AM I SO BUGGED!!!!


I found out why today.

First, I am an elitist. But we knew that.


Second, it's because I can tell when the writing is contrived. 

Definition
Contrived: adjective obviously planned or forced; artificial; strained: a contrived story.

aka


The Kiss of Death in fictional story-telling... or writing anything in general.



It's a super power... spotting contrived writing.


No it isn't. Because you, you average citizen you, would feel the same way I did when reading something that annoys you for no other reason than you're just annoyed. And now, you have a reason. It's annoying reading something contrived.


Why am I talking about this?


Because I'm attempting to become a legitimate writer and I need to know if that's even possible. Legitimate writer as in... that's what I "do." It's my craft, my art, my "thing", it's what I want to be. It's like all those other struggling art forms; art, music, acting... where there is a rather small percentage of the population that are wildly successful practicing their "craft" without also having to juggle a 9 to 5 to pay the bills. How would it be to pay your bills with your passion? It would be like being Tom Hanks or Bono or J.K. Rowling. For every ridiculously successful ar-teest there are a thousand other suckers who attempt their whole lives to "make it" and never quite break through the teeming mists of critics, nay-sayers, and just plain old not having talent. That last one is the worst. How do you know you've got it? How much of that "it" factor is determined by societal shifts? (see increasing number of lusty vampire teen novels... gag). How do you know that you could be the next Steinbeck or Updike? We need a proverbial Simon Cowell to lay it strait for more than just angsty warbling teenage singing hopefuls. Open wide and take your medicine art people! You're very bad at what you love. Jagged pill.


Definitions
Legitimate: in accordance with established rules, principles, or standards.
Writer: a person who writes or is able to write;


Therefore; legitimate writer: a person who writes or is able to write in accordance with established (metaphorically, unspoken, or recorded) rules, principles, or standards.


Thus I've learned, some of the annoyance I have from reading some people's (ahem "writers" ahem), though well structured and even adequately crafted, prose is because it's contrived.... forced... artificial... and strained. Is it in accordance with established standards? Grammatically... you bet. But writing is more than the structure; it's the story. It's the idea. It's the conveying of an idea that allows your reader to say "I know exactly what you mean!" Leave the grammar to your editor, dear writer. Your job is to tell a story!


Stephen King said in his book On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, that you should write the truth. It's a bed-fellow of the common writers guide: "write what you know." Someone can know a handful of things or a lot of things... but is it true? Is it true for you? Is it true for you character? Write what's true. I believe the lay-man/woman of all readers can spot an untruth... which is to say... you can tell when you're being suckered. It just doesn't sit well. I've read these contrived little things and may have even stretched my own writing to the point of annoying the hell out of some unsuspecting reader. And now that I know why a blunt pencil in the eye is preferable to contrived writing, I'm holding to ye old writer's precepts: Write what you know. Write the truth.

When writing fiction, you must write the truth.


Definitions
Fiction: something feigned, invented, or imagined; a made-up story: the act of feigning, inventing, or imagining.

Truth: the state or character of being true.

Lie: a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth; a falsehood; something intended or serving to convey a false impression

You see the difference, don't you? Writing fiction truthfully without sounding contrived or a big fat liar. Fiction writers do it all the time - and they do it well. Did a boy possessed of magical ability truly survive a killing curse go on and attend a magical school with peers of similar magical abilities so he could then save his world from the evil devices of a sinister Dark Lord? Of course not. But that doesn't make it not true. In fact, it's a beautiful truth that speaks to us about things that are believable. Fiction is making your reader believe it could be true. 

So I 'm trying to become a legitimate writer by writing a little of what I know and always writing the truth... and mostly avoiding sounding contrived... because I'm not here to annoy anyone. Truly. 

A Suitable Library

Since I am no longer obligated to read only academic texts and scholarly journals, I felt it high time to cozy up with some good old fashioned leisure reading. That's reading that I WANT to - not ASSIGNED to. Ya know, in case you wondered what the difference was. And if you did wonder what the difference was, perhaps this blog isn't for you.

Therefore, I present to you my Suitable Library blog. Yes, it's book reviews and honestly, if you read like I read (i.e. or used to read or will soon be reading again) it doesn't hurt to hear some recommendations from someone who has been around the literary block a time or two. Not that I'm a book-whore, but I'm kinda a book-whore.

So take a gander and for heavens sake, add an opinion! Or even a review of your own. I'd like your recommendations as well. We're all in this together. After all, it's never just ONE whore on a street corner anymore.

Go check it out. DO IT.

Let's talk about Halloween

Yes, it's November now. What happened to October? I ask you! It's always a little bittersweet when October ends - it being my favorite month of the year and all. But it also means other such fantastic holidays as Thanksgiving and Christmas are upon us! So it can't be all bad to have October end. PLUS! I've also been watching the Walking Dead Season 2 and that will help me keep Halloween in my heart for several months hence.

THAT said, here's some pictures of my October Shenaniganizing. That's, Shen-an-igan-iz-ing. I'm a Shenaniganizer!

Thirller! Every year for the last 4 years I've gone to Odyssey Dance Theater's production of Thriller at Kingsbury Hall. I love it. I love all the great pieces they bring back every year and I always look forward to the new ones they inevitably integrate. I also like any opportunity I get to refer to a performance, writing, or art as a "piece." Makes me so fancy. "Yes, dahling it was a moving piece... a real snapper!"

Next.

I've already discussed how October houses one of the greatest events all year - i.e. my Birthday. BUT! It also houses the SECOND greatest event of the year - All Hallows Eve! That's Halloween to the slow person. I love Halloween. I love Halloween like I love a good book or glitter or Agent Mulder. Or a glittery Agent Mulder reading a good book. Oh stop me!

Why do I love Halloween? There's probably a few reasons - some psychological... some psychotic... and others just plain obvious. Lets start with the obvious: DRESSING UP! I guess that could also fall into the realm of psychological as well. The appeal of "masking" yourself and becoming someone (or something) else for an evening is liberating. Perhaps why there is so much shenaniganizing that goes on on All Hallows Eve... the moon is full.... the ghouls are out... and everyone disregards their inhibitions in favor of some bloody make-up and nylon fairy wings. Under these disguises you can do and be whatever you want - and it may surprise you WHAT you actually do or want when you're not accountable to your own face.

Plus I really love playing with hair and make-up. I'm such a girl.

Observe:

My roomie Alex in her HOMEMADE (that is correct sir!) Robot outfit and me as the wee Tinkerbell. Guess what? Guess what??! I "made' my costume too! Right? Okay... so Alex sewed the hard part (that would be the elastic waist band for the skirt) but I, dear friends, did the "characterizing" - meaning I cut and fitted my shirt, shredded my skirt, bought the wings, and did one wickedly awesome job  fluffing and glittering my hair. It was something spectacular to behold.

Robot doing the Robot - naturally

He's white. No really, he is. I find this costume to be the most "social experiment" worthy as I was very much reminded of the novel Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin. John is a white man who essentially becomes "black" as a social experiment. He artificially darkens his skin in an attempt to understand what it was like being a black man in the Southern United States in 1959. I'm curious how such an experience would be different (or the same) now. As for Eric's costume - it just looks AWESOME!

We are SPARTANS!

Us again? Well we look so stinking good!

Thinking Happy Thoughts! Example: I hope I don't break my ankle attempting to get this flying picture.

Who is the man under the full body suit? No one KNOWS!

Boobs.

We asked Lance what the video would be when we pushed Play. I think we ruined the ride with that question. His expression said, "Isn't this awesomely creative costume enough?" No, Lance. We want you to dance. Dance monkey!

Zooey also attempted to get in on the fun. She got a little carried away with the webbing. Silly Zooey.

So there you have it. A little this and that about why I love Halloween and mostly - a picture heavy post showing off some of this years best! Halloween comes but once a year, and it's important to do it well and do it right. I think we managed both.