Ah, Halloween! The night when amateurs don hooker outfits and Barack Obama masks for a freaky night partying hard in the name of spooky stuff. When one lives Halloween every day, it is sometimes amusing to watch the shenanigans of the masses as they tiptoe drunkenly around The Dead. Or not…
Friday at work we had a Halloween party. I dressed in Steampunk drag. Most people mistook me for Tom Petty. Or a lion tamer. Or they just said, “So what are WE today?” To which I merely replied, “Yeah.”
There’s a great photo of me on Facebook with other hooligans at Uncle Walt’s that you can check out if you have an account that’s connected to mine.
Friday night was a bit wonky because Lord Arux wound up shooting again for an episode of A Major Sitcom. He had no idea where the shoot would be until the mystery van drove them off of the Fox lot. We had lots of tempting invitations, but given that I’ve been bitten by the Steampunk bug, I decided to wander over to our lovely friend Kerry’s Steampunk party near WeHo. When the TV people eventually let him loose around 10:30pm, Lord Arux was only about 10 minutes from the party, which was going full steam (so to speak). Lots of great people were there, including the Hedgebeast, the marvelous Christine Valada and Len Wein. I’d been up since 6am. So, despite intentions to venture to other shindigs, we turned into pumpkins around midnight.
(Incidentally, although I love my Steampunk drag, a gorgeous olive green bustle gown would really be swell, wouldn’t it, fairy godmother?)
On Samhain itself, Jehovah decided to exact one of His punishments for being female, and I lay felled by a brutal headache part of the day. Eventually the ibuprofen thumbed its nose at Jehovah’s curse and I dressed to attend a 1920’s murder mystery dinner that Lord Arux was performing at in a seaside restaurant. I tried on a circa 1928 lace dress that I’d bought over 15 years ago for the Dead Earth Productions costume rental closet. All the other dresses I had were “flapper” dresses or vintage satin that was now too wrecked to wear. I had never even attempted to wear this lacy number before, it seemed so slim and fragile. I was shocked to find it fit absolutely perfectly! Huzzah and boo-yah!
I then gave myself a tango ‘do, slipped on some stockings and a pair of vintage shoes, along with a long strand of pearls and period jewelry. When I can, I’ll scan the photo booth pictures. I don’t even recognize myself in them. One of the actors came over to me and exclaimed, “You look so Gatsby!” Which I took as a high compliment.
I thoroughly enjoyed the show. And they had a great turnout, too — 130 guests! Maybe the multiple glasses of champagne helped. All I know is that I laughed until I cried from a champagne-inspired fit of giggles when Lord Arux was mingling at the other tables as the P.I. He was really funny.
The table next to me was a collective drunken pain in the ass as everyone talked over the actors. I wanted to go over there and punch them until tomorrow. Judging by the extravagance of their costumes, I’d say they were rich Orange County bastards who probably drove Earth-hating SUVs and hunted the endangered spotted owl for sport. The older woman at the table was the loudest. She stopped one of my table companions in front of the restrooms and wiggled her eyebrows, slurring, “Sooooo, who do YOU think did it?” I wished I had been there to stomp on her toe and say, “No candy corns for you!”
We came home in time for a very cool, private salute to Samhain before falling into bed. So great.
All Soul’s Day
Sunday activities included a visit to the Rose Tea Room at the Huntington Library for High Tea. I asked Lord Arux why he was flashing gang signs at me as I munched a scone. He looked dismayed and said, “They’re not gang signs. It’s ASL for ‘I love you’!”
You can take the girl out of Hollywood…
Anyway, I hope you all had a glorious Halloween!