What are you anyway, someone asks, and I don't know, decided to glam and goth it up I guess, ample eye makeup, black lace and black velvet, leather jacket and black angel wings. I didn't listen to the Cure all afternoon for nothing, after all.
The Halloween party was extra-chaotic this year, given that one of my companions had a dizzy spell and needed a ride home so I had to bail out and come back, and then there were more people than there was room, and then the power went out right before the headliner played, leaving a lot of angry punkers in its wake, thankfully it didn't get too dramatic. The Dead Milkmen bravely soldiered on, leading a singalong with vocals and drums, and while it was kind of a bummer that it happened the way it did, I found it strangely magical to be watching people crowdsurf during an unplugged drunken singalong of "Punk Rock Girl."
People I knew were heading up to the bar up the street so I walked up from my house and met up with Neighbor and Homie and sundry other folks, but I was hungry, cold, and didn't want to drink so me and Neighbor walked back to my place, made pasta and taquitos and hung out til the early hours. It was the most chill I've felt all day as we laughed about our teenage anarchic flirtations and this and that and the other.
My sisters had birthdays to celebrate and I had time to kill so I wandered the woods by my parents' house a little freaked out at the friendliness of the squirrels, ducks, and deer, but the colors were beautiful and epic.