Monday, November 03, 2003

Halloween fucking ROCKED this year.

If for no other reason - and please forgive my vanity at the moment, but I don't think I have ever been afforded the opportunity to love myself quite so much before AND it feels GOOD - than that I put on a vinyl mini skirt, fishnets, platform knee boots, and a tank top and looked HOT! I LOOKED HOT! I NEVER LOOK HOT! Bless you, Dr. Atkins. Bless you a hundred times for every pound of yuck that is now absent from my body. I felt so lovely that I didn't even care if anyone was looking in my general direction. Does that make sense?

Can I also say that I told myself that over and over as I walked the walk of shame back to my car at 745am Saturday morning in that outfit - head held high - refusing to hang my head for the people out walking their pets at that ungodly hour of morn. A sight to have seen I am sure - this goth princess carrying a pair of black angel wings and a messenger bag bidding good morning to the guy in his flannel pj pants, bathrobe, and UGA ball cap pretending not to notice her ripped fishnet stockings. That's my second amusing walk of shame story ever. Oddly enough, the first happened many a year ago, but involved the same second party.

My beloved college friends... Amy? Amanda? Portwood? Dryden? I am sure you ALL remember that one.

Anyway - I had a party to go to every night and was completely surrounded by people I love and adore... and I got to dance my little ass off (well, not so little, but who cares). And Rene played English Summer Rain - which always makes me happy.

I felt like such a social butterfly. Perhaps a beautiful black monarch...



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