“I need to ask you to come over and clean my house,” Chief exclaimed when he saw my outfit today.
“Sir?”
“You’re supposed to be a cleaner, right? Or a housekeeper?”
Quoth I, cheerfully but not without a bit of spice, “I am the exact opposite of a housekeeper.”
“If you go to a costume party at your boss’s house, wouldn’t you think a good costume would be to dress up like the boss’s wife? Trust me, it’s not.”
– Jack Handy
So far we have also seen, two Avatar people (the blue ones), one Lord Voldemort, and several Waldos (as “Where’s…”). Also a green plastic army guy, a BP oil spill, and the entire Monty Python crew.
And, speaking of clothes, the winner of our giveaway is…
Amanda who said her favorite thing about herself was: “my skin tone. I’m extremely white, but I’ve got enough on my mom’s olive hues to pull off pretty much any hair color. And changing up the hair is fun stuff.”
Congratulations Amanda! I’ll be contacting you to ship your prize to you!
“When in doubt, wear red.”
– Bill Blass
I’m getting a little ahead of myself, because I’m already plotting my Halloween costume. But as you may recall, I love Halloween! Each year our office dresses up. Witches and ghosts are occasionally seen, but we prefer to get a bit more creative. Sav dressed all in pink and a name tag that read “Floyd.” One of the student officers directs traffic in Mickey Mouse gloves.
And this year I’m going as Joan from Mad Men and it’s probably going to be the easiest costume I’ve ever had (although after that papier mache Anubis head, anything would be a piece of cake). Because that paragon of cuteness, Shabby Apple, has made in their new Yosemite line, the Joanest of all Joan Halloway dresses. However even the desire for a fab Halloween costume wasn’t going to induce me to spend $92 on it! Then, low and behold, Groupon did a deal and I got $100 of in store credit, for a much, much, MUCH lower price. My dress plus shipping was a third of what it would have been otherwise. This number is going to double as all go-to outfit for holiday parties this year.
And finally, I had to find that iconic pen necklace. I scoured Etsy and Ebay and Google, but everything that came up was so ludicrously priced as to laughable. Finally I found a long gold chain ($4) and a small gold pencil on a pendant ring ($6), and put it together myself. Et voila!
Now I’ll just have to get red hair dye. Should be fun! Or I can always chicken out and go as the new receptionist Megan, she of the French extraction and perfect skin.
I don’t read Janssen’s frugality blog for entertainment!
Extemporized conversation with Margot post-Nosferatu viewing:
(Editor’s Note: I stand by it. Vampires ≠ sexy!)
C: I really liked the part when he comes into Lucy’s room and says, “Love me like you do your husband,” and she basically comes back with a quick, “Nope!” only classier and in German. He actually looked confused that he wasn’t very persuasive!
M: Oh…I…I really thought that would work… I was really hoping you’d say ‘yes,’ this whole thing would be much less awkward. Having just broken in your room and everything.
C: I, um, don’t have a plan after this. Ok…well look, I’ve stalked you all the way from Transylvania-“
M: Actually moved in next door, after almost killing your husband-
C: And wiping any memory of you he has.
M: Did I mention I’m a harbringer of the Black Death?
C: And rats follow me everywhere in the countless millions. I also seem to spark insanity in the masses.
M: And I also drink people’s blood. Yes, suck them absolutely dry, poor devils.
C: ……….Why don’t you like me?
“Common sense is not so common.”
-Voltaire
Yes, it is around time for Halloween and (as you may recall) I’m all for costumes…
But coming on to campus dressed in an actual SWAT shirt wearing an actual bullet proof vest packing actual bullets and flares and two airsoft guns which look frighteningly like the real thing…
…Strikes me as a supremely foolish thing to do.
Oh, by the bye, this kid is a doctoral law student. You think they would have covered impersonating a law officer, as well as public disturbance…because a lone man on a campus carrying weapons quite rightly incites fear.* More personally if convicted he could be dismissed from the school and forfeit his credits/degrees.
I think working here has probably made me slightly more attune to the nuances of such choices and their effects…but I still think common sense would keep a person from carrying live ammunition onto a campus where firearms are prohibited.
Although, after the Elk, I suppose the last of the surprise and astonishment should have been knocked out of me.
*Lest we forget the over 50 victims of school shootings in the past two years in the U.S. alone
“Make it classy.”
“I thought we were supposed to be sexy.”
“It is possible to be both.”
-Sushi for Beginners, Marian Keyes
Halloween was easily my favorite holiday growing up. I have fond memories of strategically mapping out my plan of attack in neighborhoods in the search for candy, staggering home under the weight of a bulging pillowcase, and spending days or even weeks on my costumes. For a chunk of my childhood we lived in Germany so we had Fasching instead of Halloween (German version of Carnivale), but since the concept of costume + candy + pranking remained the same, there wasn’t too much of a difference to me.
See back in my day, darlings, we made our costumes. Sure some kids were starting to run around in polyester store-bought Power Rangers outfits, but I always regarded them as sad, unimaginative creatures more to be pitied than envied. Even the year I went as a ghost, I took the time to shred my own sheets and drape them hauntingly about my white and black smudged face. My mother would take me to fabric stores to wrinkle my six year old forehead over the merits of historically correct Indian vs. Polar Bear, rifle with me through the chest that held my hats, boots, and scarves that I used for dress up, and applaude my ideas enthusiastically.
The crowning achievement of my dorkiness trick-or-treating career was the year I announced impressively that I wanted to go as…wait for it…Anubis.
That’s right. Egyptian god of the dead. I think I was seven or eight at the time. As an adult I can now only begin to fathom what thoughts might have scrambled through my impressed/perplexed/weirded out parents’ minds as they heard this plan, but they rallied with admirable self control. My dad helped me fashion a jackal head out of a baseball cap for the base, wound about with wire to form the long snout, face, ears, and Egyptian headpiece, and then mummified (pun!) in paper mache. This whole contraption was then painted with black, gold, and glaring white eyes. A baby towel wrapped around my waist, a white tee-shirt, and a cardboard collar painted gold with blobs of color for the gems completed the look.
No one I begged candy off of had a clue who I was. It was also sweltering hot so by the time I made it home, black streaks of sweat and paint had slithered down my face, but I had the most absolutely amazing costume ever!
And nowadays what am I left with? The only Halloween costumes available to me (since I can’t sew) are cheap, mass produced trashy stuff usually involving thigh-highs and not much else. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a touch of tart as much as the next girl, but I also firmly adhere to the “time and place” mentality. I also believe absolutely that sexy and slutty are not the same things at all. For example, one year one of my flatmates went as a Victoria Secret Angel: bras, panties, wings. Fin. Kiri and I were saloon girls, complete with fishnets and garters, but we took the time to make sure that the OK stayed corralled!
Trick-or-treating seems to be on the decline, too many weirdos out there I suppose, but I’m still debating how to get in on the holiday this year. Perhaps a party with fabulous friends? Or be boring and just watch Hitchcock movies? I’ve never been to a haunted castle/cornmaze/whatever which seem to be all the rage in these parts, so I’m going to try to trick (or treat) J. into taking me to one. Small Dog has no comment on the possibility of thigh highs.
EDITOR’S ADDITION: COURTESY OF DAD
Small Dog Syndrome 