I went to yet another Halloween party last night, my fourth this year. This one was by far the best. I got there first, which is something I loathe to do. Unfortunately I had nothing else to do after eating dinner, a pizza puff and cheddar fry, and the people I was taxiing wanted to go right at 8:00, so we did.

It took about 2 hours, but the party became one of those mythical parties that don't actually exist, the kind you see in Coors Light commercials. There were women dressed as nurses, cops, and pop stars. A feast for the eyes. I love how Halloween brings out the freak in everyone. I wish you all could see the Gwen Stefani ringer with black hair and a Josie Pussycat costume. It was hard to keep my jaw from hanging. I wish I'd had composure, suaveness, a light buzz, and no obligations in the morning. Oh well, at least I got one phone number before I left at mignight.

The guys throwing the party rent the house, four of them. They pay less each than I do for my shitty little apartment and they have more room, and more flexibility with noise. I am somewhat jealous. I wish I had been more ambitious and researched when it was my time to move. Next April, who knows?

I ran into lots of old friends there, people I hadn't seen since elementary school or shortly thereafter. The strangest thing about the party was, for me, the fact that I had a great time and did not drink a drop. I'm rather proud of that. The hosts have parties every weekend, I hear, and I've been invitied to visit. I intend to. These guys know how to throw a bash.
10:35 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm