And so is my costume. Last night was the trial run for Mrs. Peacock, whose feathers remained inside her head. As was expected, many a party goer didn't quite get the look (one man was fairly convinced I was an owl). What surprised me was that both myself and Ms. White were such a big hit with Little Red Riding Hoods. While I don't know what inspired so many Long Island ladies to dress as the woodsy tease, I was more than happy that of all the people who stared at my costume last night, the only two to immediately get it before any explanation or waving of my giant Party City hunting knife were dressed as so.
Anyway, today is more costuming and a Halloween wedding. Tomorrow is Chiller Theater, where I'm hoping to touch my first crush ever, Mr. Davy Jones. What the sprightly Monkee has to do with horror is beyond me but the very fact that I can see, in the flesh, a man whose poster once graced my seven-year-old bedroom wall is fine by me.
I was an odd kid.
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