Last night’s party was pretty fun. Almost everyone was in costume, and it was great seeing all the Joe the Plumbers and Joe Six-Packs. A boxy robot, Rapunzel, Seth Meyers and Amy Poehler (non-pregnant) – friends whose names are actually Seth and Amy, animals, trojans, knights, doctors, tourists, farmers, princesses, Dwight Schrute the Cornell applicant, gypsies, genies, Juno (Ellen Page’s character from the eponymized movie), Edward Scissorhands, a banana, Napoleon Dynamite, a bull rider, an ostrich rider, Poison Ivy, supermodel, vampire motorcyclist, John McCain and Sarah Palin, Medusa. Lots of original costumes. Even though the music was too loud, I really enjoyed looking at the costumes. They were awesome.
I was the only Yip-Yip. Right when I walked into the room where you could decorate your own sugar cookie, a lumberjack told me he just fell in love with me. I designed my costume so that I could actually open and close the mouth and go, “Yip, yip.” It was pretty clever. A lot of people took out their cameras and phones to take my picture. Anyway, every time the lumberjack saw me, he talked to me. He wrote my name down for the costume contest. I didn’t hear my name when they called it for me to strut the catwalk, and I found out later I was a finalist. But the Peruvian farmer I was talking to at the time agreed that I shouldn’t win everything. Because that’s just obnoxious.
Easily, a few hundred people attended. It was hot and crowded and the music was too loud, and my voice this morning is a bit hoarse from competing with the volume, trying to have actual conversations with people. I took off my costume a couple of times. I ran into a few good guy friends and danced with them. We talked and flirted a little bit, but I’m just really thinking about the lumberjack. He was at the front door talking to one of the church leaders, and I was on my way to leave. I bumped fists with him, because I didn’t want to interrupt his conversation, but he told me goodbye and said he loved my costume.
He might love me only for my costume, and he looked hot probably only because of the nice beard and flannel shirt and hatchet, but that’s the magic of Halloween. The imagination goes further than usual, we create scenarios and become something beyond ourselves; we get brave because of who we’re not. We play, we dance, we flirt, we let loose and don’t want to let go of the fantasy to fall back into the normalcy of tomorrow.
Sometimes, the magic spills over and we coast on that until it fades, however long that is. But, I still want for him (or them or whoever) to ask me out. I want the enchantment without the costumes. Or, at the very least, a little more interaction. Is that even possible? Because I don’t know if I can wait until next Halloween.