Halloween: it Was Still Hot Outside

I always do this thing where I compare my life to previous holidays. Because it's fun, and I find (to my immense surprise) that each year tends to be more enjoyable. Maybe it's because I'm getting older and I care less and less about embarrassing myself by falling down or saying something stupid (let's face it, if you know me, you already know I'm going to do these things). And the longer I'm here, the more solidified and adaptable I am in any given environment. Like: a house party where the bathroom doesn't lock? OK. Music festival where PBR tallboys are $13 each? All right (see also: most sober Sunday, ever). Supervising a room full of sugar-high teenagers working on a yearbook deadline? Why not--Well, at least until they start blaring Taylor Swift from their iPhones. Then the deal is off.

Usually I'm pretty down for adventures.

So when the opportunity presented itself to dress like a dweeb--really, a Double Dare contestant--and go to a bunch of dance-y drunk-y things to celebrate Halloween weekend, I took it. It was my second Halloween in California. Last year I stayed in and did crafts. 

Here's proof:


And to be fair, on Halloween '13 I did have really bad, newfound allergies, and I was trying to impress a boy with my sewing skills of odd woodland creatures. It didn't. But that's okay. 

So for my second Halloween in California I did it all right until I did it wrong. I ate candy, I drank, I saw bloodied real-life ballerinas dancing to my friend's music at Low Brau, I danced my goggles off the next night at the Lipstick Weekender, I drank some more. Actually I'm fairly certain that I drank most of the alcohol in Sacramento. Sorry about that, guys. I ate a burger at a diner at 2am, proud of myself in my red t-shirt, elbow pads, and sweatpants. I paid $1 to hear Johnny Cash songs on a tiny jukebox. 


Halloween '14: I'm pretty sure I might've given myself premature cirrhosis. Sorry, liver. It's been a good 28 years.

I propose for Halloween '15: crafts and a tiny bottle of bourbon. It's all about moderation, and I feel like the third Californian Halloween will be just right