The costume

So, last night I was hanging out with a bunch of my friends at my favorite fraternity house. We were celebrating the freshest engagement of the semester, and by freshest I mean the third engagement in my pledge class, excluding my own--which as we all know was called off approximately six months ago. Not that I'm bitter, there were just more important things on my mind.

One of these more important topics was What should I be for Halloween?

Bff Kate said she was going as a white lie. She said you wear all white and attach sticky notes to yourself that each have a white lie written on it, like Nice haircut. OR Cute baby. Some of my top ideas for my own costume included: a leftover (where you wrap yourself in aluminum foil), a straight girl (?), a farmer (not be confused with a lesbian), a crew rower (because I love spandex), a homecoming queen (too pretentious), and, of course, we can't forget about McLarty's idea, "that blonde-headed guy from Fight Club," (w.t.f.?).

So, I went to sleep last night with ideas of Halloween costumes dancing in my head only to awaken this morning with my Halloween identity assigned to me without my consent. I am to be a Germ this Halloween, as I am sick, and in bed with a fever, having no fun, alone.

Alright, well, I'm not having no fun because I am watching Season 4 of the L Word, and I have a damn good excuse to be in bed. But I am alone, so if anyone out there is also having a sad-alone-Halloween-germ-costume-kind-of-night, give me a call and maybe we can play live Scrabulous.

Happy Halloween!