I took all these photos, but some aren’t of my Halloween party.
I had all of these experiences, but some were only in my head.
1. A rabbit-masked man slashed the head off a pinata with a samurai sword. It was a practice sword, made of wood. Pieces of candy spewed from its neck like its jugular had been hacked.
2. One of the children disappeared. We found her in the crawlspace with the Christmas decorations. She and a plush Rudolph were reading a cookbook by flashlight.
3. A boy dressed as a bumblebee found a tick on his ankle. A boy dressed as a cracked porcelain doll found a succubus attached to him. Unlike the bumblebee, he didn’t put up a fuss.
4. A child with night vision played frisbee in the ink-black backyard. His twin, who didn’t have night vision, was a poor partner for this.
5. A man spent a few hours at the party in a ski mask. After he left, we realized he wasn’t one of us.
6. Someone at the party wore a tee that said “Life.” He spent the evening handing out lemons. I used one of the lemons in a recipe this morning.
7. A mask’s spirit possessed its wearer’s body all evening. The ghost and party-goer had similar personalities, so nobody noticed.
8. Our Ouija board caught on fire. The demon we were summoning was angry that we weren’t taking the seance seriously. We’re on the lookout for another board now.
9. Five people brought cheese plates. The girl who dressed as Minnie Mouse was overwhelmed by joy.
10. The dog was cooperative and quiet all evening. Just kidding. This one’s obviously a lie.
Because I’m me — and not someone with better life skills — I got trapped in a conversation with a Bigfoot enthusiast last week.
“I don’t trust people who don’t believe in Bigfoot,” he said.
“Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence,” I hedged.
“Exactly!” he said.
The man ranted about how Jane Goodall believes in Bigfoot, too. (Turns out, that’s sorta true.)
My beloved Alyson kept goading him into talking more.
I eventually excused myself on the premise of getting more food in the other room. Once again, food saves the day.
I love cryptozoology (check out all my cryptozoology-related posts!). Love it! But I don’t believe in it.
Humans are basically an algae bloom upon this earth. They’ve fanned out, populated, and polluted almost every nook and cranny of the planet.
There’s plenty more to discover, but it’s probably not going to be a Squatch.
That’d be the coolest thing ever — but unlikely.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think there’s cheese somewhere else I’m not eating.
Whoops. Forgot I had a blog. My bad. Sorry, Mom.
1. I hiked Watkins Glen, an orgy of waterfalls and gorges. The Finger Lakes is a gorge-ous place.
2. I got a second tattoo, of a death’s head moth (top). I illustrated the original illustration for the tattoo artist to apply. It’s a reference to my love of Hannibal/horror/reading/movies/Silence of the Lambs.
The hairs there are from my dog shedding into the moisturizer. Which is gross, but not as gross as the back hair people were joking about on Facebook. With friends like these, who needs enemies?
The bottom tattoo is Alys’. We got the tattoos together, because TWINSIES. So Goth. Very wow.
3. I crocheted Clyde the Yeti. He likes jazz music. We share a classic pear body type.
4. I designed this logo for an ice cream pop company. Delicious.
5. I was my husband’s muse. Behold this portrait. It’s me, imagining cake.
As you can see, I am the second-best artist in the family.
I should hand this blog over to him.
He’d probably update it.
I discarded 40% of my wardrobe today, talking smack the whole time to the losers. I said stuff like:
– “You chafe my armpits and have to go.”
– “You require a slip and that’s bullshit. Thanks for your service.”
– “You are boxy and weird.”
– “You are doing my chest no favors.”
– “You are a Janet-Jackson-caliber wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen.”
– “You are a crutch for my ‘ugly’ days and must leave.”
– “You make me look like a prairie woman.”
– “Does polyester burn? Because you deserve to burn.”
I started The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up to figure out how the fuck someone managed to fill up 200 pages on “tidying,” then dupe people into buying it.
Then I realized I was hopelessly in love with the author, who seems like a fussy old lady but is actually a very fetching young Japanese woman. She’s all about keeping only useful, beloved objects in your home, and treating them with love. (A great summary of her beliefs is here.) Her sort of Shintoist, animism-infused beliefs annoy Christians (1, 2), which I find funny.
I decided to try it myself.
I hauled all of my clothes out of the closet/drawers and dumped them on the bed. I held each item up and determined if it “sparked joy.”
It was touchy-feely nonsense, but it worked. I got rid of 30-40% of my wardrobe in under an hour.
You should try it.
I gave my husband a lot of leeway with our 5-year anniversary gift. I said I wanted something big that would make our house easy to spot. (We don’t have mail delivery in our town, so it’s impossible to found houses by numbers.) I also told him not to spend too much money on it.
This is what he got me:
Everyone, meet Jeff Goldblum. He is a 50″ tall, 86″ long, 200-pound steel Tyrannosaurus Rex.
And he is ready to party.
Like Dug the Dinosaur (our inspiration), Jeff Goldblum is very customizable. He can be put in a variety of outfits and hold a plethora of props.
With just one accessory, he can go
from drab to fab from awesome to epic.
The flower crown is Jeff Goldblum’s go-to party look. It’s festive, fun, and feminine. The instant he dons it, you know you’re in for a good time. It’s a signal to the whole neighborhood that his day drinking habit has gotten out of hand, and you’re welcome to join in.
As seasons progress, I’ll be sure to show you more photos of Jeff Goldblum celebrating holidays.
The next major holiday is the 4th of July, which he will obviously be celebrating because he is a motherfucking patriot — and also because he was in Independence Day.
He saved the world in it, in case you forgot.