a halloween who's who
Tuesday, oct. 31, 2006 | 0 comments
Over the years I’ve noticed a series of patterns emerging out of the sea of clowns, mummies, and Steve Irwins that make up Costume Day. These patterns are forged by specific personalities who always seem to gravitate to certain types of costumery each and every Halloween. It’s pretty much guaranteed that whatever party you’re heading off to tonight, you’re for sure going to run into one or more of the following:
The Garbage Man
There’s a particular breed of person who meets the implied challenge of a costume party invite by walking to their closet and just throwing on a “bunch of crazy shit.” A feather boa. A weird sparkly shirt unbuttoned injudiciously low. A necktie tied around the head. People ask The Garbage Man, “What are you supposed to be?” And The Garbage Man just answers with a shrug, and then goes and stands right in front of mind-meltingly loud speakers, where it stays, swaying only slightly, for the rest of the night. Bonus: The Garbage Man who adds to the confusion by dousing itself in blood. Triple-cherry bonus: The Bloody Garbage Man who gets very, very drunk and then refuses to leave the party, even after the hostess has changed into pajamas and very much would like to go to bed.
The Punster
I’m white and covered in garbage. Get it, I’m white trash! I’m a pregnant beauty pageant contestant, get it, I’m Miss Conception! I’m an tender worm dressed in striped pajamas. Get it, I’m jail bait!
The Usual
This is the type who insists on wearing the exact same costume each and every year, often something inspired by the military, something with period weaponry and leather harnessing, something that requires lots of “accuracy of detail.” Ritual-loving sticklers such as these are so pleased with their costumes, they often scrape together alternate reasons to wear them, such as Burning Man or the Renaissance Pleasure Faire.
The Shim
These typically mild-mannered sorts are the ones who arrive at the party dressed in drag and then spend the whole night wondering why more people aren’t shocked and titillated by their bent genders.
The Girl Who Dresses Sexy
Whatever she’s wearing this year — the Sexy Nurse costume, the Sexy Kitty costume, the Sexy Space Alien costume, the Sexy Auditor costume — rest assured you’re going to see a lot of thigh. And tits. Don’t forget the tits. (I can’t believe you almost forgot the tits.)
The Character Study
There are those who go beyond simply dressing up as some famous person or character. They revel in going the extra mile in that person’s shoes; they become the character for the duration of the costume. Like if the guy comes dressed as Michael Jackson, he’ll insist on talking in a high, tight whisper as he makes entendre-laden comments about how kids must be this high to ride this ride, or how little pitchers have big … mouths. Usually by the end of the evening, everyone is so creeped out by the relentless authenticity that they stop talking to The Character Study, and he’s left sitting alone on the couch, quietly adjusting his one sparkly glove.
The Nothing but Speedo, Cape, and Vader Helmet
Didn’t I see you crossing Haight Street on Saturday Night? I thought that was you! Nice work.
a book, an article, a monologue, and a hoodie
Monday, oct. 30, 2006 | 0 comments
Tara and Sarah of Television Without Pity have a new book out! It’s called Television Without Pity: 752 Things We Love to Hate (and Hate to Love) About TV, and it is delightful. I pre-ordered my copy months ago, so when it arrived last week, it was like a little surprise party in my mailbox. I just keep fanning this tidy little book open to random pages and marveling at each odd and insightful listing: “Alien Species, Dermatological Problems of”…“Future on TV, Similarity to Present”…“Orphans.” I can do this — open up this book and get a quick shot of glee — 752 different times. Seven-hundred-and-fifty-two! What did I do to deserve this? Something pretty good, I’m thinking.
My friend-since-high-school Kari Kiernan has a piece up at the prestigious Huffington Post, one of the top one hundred blogs of ALL TIME. The thing she wrote is called The Frying Pan and the Fire, and it’s a very funny and endearing peek at the struggle borne from being completely outclassed by your cooking gear. Since my rudimentary cooking skills and I also cower in the shadow of high-end cookware (in my case it’s an intimidating All Clad 12-inch fry pan), I sadly can very much relate to the plight. If only Tamalpais High School had offered Home Ec, just think how much better our lives would be! Dumb Tamalpais High School.
It’s been a great week for my favorite star-crush, Julia Sweeney: she landed herself a NYT prescription required) for her NYC staging of Letting Go of God, plus she got the plum Terry Gross treatment. All of that, and her self-released CD is finally in its final launch countdown (which means there’s still time to get that buying-click finger nice and warmed up).
Good old Old Navy is now torturing me with its woodgrain hoodie, which I crave so hard it makes me dizzy, but for some insane reason, it comes in man shapes only. Sad, sad world! Do you think I could get a small and then bring it to a tailor and have the shoulders brought in? Or would that be crazy? Yeah, that might be a little crazy. (Thanks to Anatomy-of-a-Skirt Erin for the woodsy tipoff.)
And oh yes, there’s also another Desperate Housewives recap to contend with. This one weighed in at 12 pages, 6,999 words, 9 solid hours of typing, and one salty tear.
kentucky fried creepy
Sunday, oct. 29, 2006 | 0 comments
Posted in the window at the KFC just up the street:
drunken dispatch
Friday, oct. 27, 2006 | 0 comments
I just went to RNM for mini burgers and pink and white wines and a vodka-soda, and also before all that a beer at Noc Noc (yes Noc Noc, which I don’t think I’d been inside since 1992), all in celebration of Heidi Meredith’s birthday! We sang happy birthday TWICE. And we toasted hamburgers! And we made new friends! They were playing Spirited Away on the flatscreen behind Heidi’s head, which was sliightly distracting and also confusing, apparently the little black feet-people things were supposed to be the proletariat? Oh and also there was this amazing and arresting photo in the bathroom, a woman by the pool wearing a robe and matching patent leather stripper heels, with four very large dogs, ridgebacks?, all with their frontlegs stretched out before them, like they were bowing before her. Anyway, it doesn’t sound all that great, but it was a very intimate, fraught snapshot. Also I made Marco come in there and admire it, too, and he seemed very impressed.
Oh and don’t let me forget, Marco wanted me to tell you about the white dog we saw at the park last weekend, it was running and running around, it’s owner nowhere in sight, and Marco was all, hey Casper! And the dog, mid stride, turned to us and smiled. And then later on in the hike, we ran across the owners and they were all yelling, “Casper, Casper!” And…that’s it. That the end of the story. Marco totally guessed the dog’s name. Because the dog was white, like a ghost.
Ooh hey, look at that, the DVR R-ed four episodes of Rescue Me!
Edited the next morning to remove drunky typos and to add in a bit more sense, wow.
the technorati twostep
Thursday, oct. 26, 2006 | 0 comments
I’m a little bit of a picker. I can never leave a zit alone, and if I get a sunburn, I delight in peeling off the dead skin. And ever since I’ve been using Technorati, I’ve been reloading my Home page like ten times a day. Maybe fifteen? Just to see if any of my twenty-plus favorite diaries have updated. Or to check if anyone has maybe linked to my sleeptest, which now has an insane 5,630 (suddenly the number’s dropped to 1,301, maybe because Technorati only charts links from the last six months?) links — almost all of them people who have taken the test and posted their results. And there’s still maybe five, ten new people posting new results each day, which seems so amazing to me.
Anyway now Technorati has knighted me as one of their featured Favorites members, so if you hit reload again and again and again and again and again and again, you might just see my shining face.
Marco rocks the fresh Technorati top.