Monday, August 5, 2013

I was recently invited to a Halloween party with the clear and stern stipulation: "No costume.  No entry."  One of my best friends just moved into his new place and wants to host the party this year.  So here I am, I have nearly three months to beat my brain for the perfect costume.  I've never been good at putting together clever costumes.  I've always envied the those who arrive to the party with costumes that have everyone laughing, touching (what's it made out of?), or cringing with fear or disgust.  

"Hey man, did you rent your costume?  It looks professional."  

"No I sewed it myself."  

"No way.  You're a genius!  I can't wait to see what you make next year.  Let me hug you--you're awesome.  The allusion your work is making is so esoteric but yet so pop-y."

And this is where I roll my eyes, mumbling: "you think you're so cool with your cool fabrics and protruding appendages and fully functional touch-screen chest monitor.  Whatever."

Every year I tell myself this will be the year you win "most original costume."  But every year I fail miserably, resorting to wearing a silly wig or sporting a fading tuxedo t-shirt or painting half my face one color and the other half another color that draws obvious metaphors.  Last year I wanted to be this but the glue burned my skin and I nearly had to spend the night in the emergency room.  Kidding.  So what will it be? to paraphrase Hamlet.  How shall I rise like the phoenix to join the celebrated annals of Halloween costume revelry?  

Let the countdown begin.

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