You've Got Too Much To Wear On Your Sleeves

For Halloween, Baby S and I had intended to wear kitten masks. We'd been talking about it for over a month.

Still, it turns out that kitten masks...and really any masks...make your face sweat.
We're against face sweat.
So, instead - we split a bottle of Persecco and hit the town uncostumed.

We decided to dine at the Red Room on Colfax. I've always loved that place.
The menu had changed a little, but the moment they put those deep fried mac and cheese wedges in front of us. We couldn't help but chow.

We drank these sort of lethal vodka martinis and I vaguely recollect telling Spencer that I thought I should probably switch to beer at some point.
He kindly steered me away from that idea.

So, I threw back approximately 3 of these little babies with a ruben that, in retrospect, I wish I could have put in my pocket for later.
No dice though, we were on foot all night - for safety's sake.

The Ogden was packed with crazies in costumes! It was pretty fun and hilarious.
So, we staked out a good spot and settled in with a couple more cocktails.

This is what we looked like at the start of the show.

We sort of made friends with everyone around us.
That's how we do.

I met Stacy in the lady's bathroom.
She was from Florida and was as annoyed as I was by all the underage drinking that was holding up the line.
She was a Strawberry Shortcake. Cute, right?!

At this point, I'm pretty sure we switched to Vodka Red Bulls - which was entirely my fault.

Of course, Spencer and I couldn't keep our eyes off of this divine little boy cheerleader. He kept bending over and posing.

See what I'm sayin'.

This guy was Death, I guess. He had fashioned these finger-like/claws out of pipe cleaners.
It looked like a total pain in the ass.

Jesus was sitting next to me.
I can't tell you how that set me at ease.

He's a surprisingly good dancer.

Stacy introduced us to this guy...dressed as Elvis in a white plastic suit.
I'm not sure, but I might have yelled nut hugger at him.
Also, I'm fairly certain I punched my blog into his blackberry for him to read later.
Sorry, guy...

Slow and indecent decline.

I don't know who this was. Some Wayne's World Garth, probably...but he kept lurking behind us being shady.

Stacy apparently smelled like a Strawberry Shortcake, but I never sniffed her.

I met a skunk though.

Okay, now shit's falling apart.

GIRL TALK started and everyone got to dancing pronto.

It was fun!


And I moved down to be with my people.

I've got some moves, my friends.
Sadly, at some point I demanded that Baby S and I leave the show.
I don't know what happened, but my brain broke.
Before we left the show, I bumped into a blogger that I particularly enjoy and slurred into his face like a jerk.
Sorry, Mr. Scheid. Sorry forev...

Spencer and I mutually decided, instead of going home, that we should hit JR's.
I met a toilet on the way.

At JR's we drank another Red Bull Vodka and ran into some Deal Or No Deal ladymen.

And this little underwear wearer.

Ugh. Gross.

Spencer might already be in the process of a friend divorce.

I love this odd juxtaposition of man arm and lady leg. He mentioned he hadn't shaved, but who cares when you've got crystalline shimmer on your high heels.

Wow.

Man hands with fingernails.

I kept wishing this doctor would rescue me and take me to the hospital to have my stomach pumped.

Finally, we agreed it was time to go home.
The trip home was filled with haphazard stops and, if I remember right, Spencer did a lot of spitting.

Spencer had just about enough of me.
He gently put me to bed...with a glass of water next to my head.

The morning was hell. A self induced, blinding, literal hell.
Still, The Breakfast Palace has all the makings for recovery.

I had the Country Benedict - everything is better with Benedict.
And two beverages - iced tea and cola.

Baby S was super over me...and my camera, but he still chaffeured me in my terrible state.

This giant embroidered butterfly sweatshirt enrages people. I don't know why. It's kind of like this pink coat my friend Jen wore to Las Vegas. People yelled profanities about the pink coat at us as we walked down The Strip. It just had inherent qualities that brought out the worst in people.

But you know what's worse than a pink coat or even an offensive giant embroidered butterfly sweatshirt? A drunk monster.
And that is why for the entire month of November, I am teetotaling my ass off.
This month has been officially dubbed WHOLESOME NOVEMBER 2008.

Want to hang, drink tea, make whole wheat breads, and hug?
Yeah! Because that is what I will be doing.
Sure, it's going to be hard as hell - Mama loves her cocktails, but a little change of pace couldn't hurt!

WHOLESOME NOVEMBER 2008!