Saving Halloween
I had started this after Halloween, but never had a chance to finish until today:
I’m at Zoka again. The pretty pixie girl is gone. She must have off because of the Halloween events last night. Her replacement is a tall with great purple red short hair that hangs long in the front and short in the back. (I love the neckline of a woman. It sometimes is sexier than nice pair breasts. Sometimes.)
My drink is a dark blend coffee from Kenya, its good without the muddy aftertaste some dark roast coffees have. Along with the java I’m eating a cherry vanilla scone. It has sweet patches of taste were the cherries are located and a light creamy taste everywhere else and the outside is crisp. It is almost a perfect scone. The worst scones are the overly sugared ones that taste resembles more of muffin or a donut. Falling just behind that is the original scone that is too much life a biscuit. I can’t down the original though, were would scones of the world be without it dough floured presence.
I rested my body in the Jacuzzi at the health club this morning. The place was crowded and I am starting to feel more comfortable with so many other people about. The pools lanes were full and two people in the Jacuzzi me in the middle.
One of them was a tall then man about my age. He told me about his plans to create a Halloween block party next year. Normally, I would of thought the man’s intentions to be fluff. There would be no party, but he seemed like a big doer. You know the type a list of accomplishments a mile long, the yard perfectly made up by his own hands, the standard good life he had always aimed to possess. When he left I hoped to see him again. I wanted to find out what was on the Thanksgiving agenda.
Earlier yesterday I had spent the better part of the morning hunting down a decent costume to wear last night. The first place just a few blocks from Northgate Mall was nice costumes and accessories lined the walls and shelves. I had found a robe for my ‘Fallon Monk, Judas, Jesus, Dead Sheppard’ costume, but when I put it on it become stuck on chest and shoulders. I stood there in the dressing room panicking thrusting my body up and down as if it were a straightjacket. It was no use the cloth wasn’t going to come off, so I opened the door, and pleaded with a lady to save me. She did and after much pulling and tugging the garment lodged itself from my torso. That’s when I looked at the packaging; it was a child’s robe. I had to snicker. Not only did I not read the tag, but also the robe was perfect height for my body. Being short sucks.
I left that store discouraged. In the car I even had thoughts of not going out for Halloween. Those thoughts didn’t last long. At the Next place Archie McPhee’s in Ballard. I also found nothing. Although, their was a chicken and gorilla costume the sales girl was trying to influence me to purchase. I looked twice at the chicken costume, but I had to turn it down. What does pretending to be a chicken say about my personality? OK, I might return for the chicken look for Mardi Grass, but for a pagan holiday, there was no way in heaven or hell.
Sitting in my car at the parking lot at Archie McPhee’s I was even more determined to find an outfit and make a good night of the holiday. A few minutes later I found myself in Capital Hill at the Crypt clothing store just off Broadway. The place is a strange mixture of gothic clothing and gay men’s clothing. And if you were wondering no the two don’t go together. They may have some of the same fabrics, leathers, etc, but never have I seen a goth/industrial dressed guy in leather chaps. With that said I searched the racks. There were a few pair of pants that I really liked, but I wasn’t in the mood for hemming plastic, or leather.
I left there to go to Hot Topic at the Market Shops on Broadway. It had been years since I had stepped into a Hot Topic. The whole idea of a chain goth store seems wrongfully too normal. Also many of the cliental is too young for taste. I don’t want to be shopping next to fourteen year old girls, even it there is a belt a like near her. Thankfully, the store on Broadway is a little unique. Whenever I have passed before glancing in the window, there were no teenie bobbers.
Only a block away walking on the other side of the street I was only a block and a half away from The Topic when I turned my head to see a huge sighs at Redlight Clothing Exchange “Halloween Costumes,” I might have been pardoned from a trip past Hot Topics doorway.
Upon walking in, I knew if I didn’t find the right costume in this place, this years Halloween would be a waste. I would have to play the fate and resort to bad horror movies a pound of Butterfingers and many a beer. There overflowing every rack were costumes. Black saton and brightly beaded fabrics were sticking crammed together. I smiled getting closer. It was all woman’s outfit. For a second, I wondered about how I would look in a plastic woman’s cat suit. The vision wasn’t pretty. I let the picture of myself explode into ball of smoke like my plans.
I was defeated. My favorite pagan event would be cancelled. With my head lowered I almost turned around to leave when I saw the stairs going down into the basement. “Yes”, I thought, “If there were a place for a ghoulish costume for me, surely the basement was appropriate”.
Down the steps I went to were the music was blaring, and after finally reached the bottom and looked to the right another I spotted another maze of Halloween duds. Joy again, hope was back, but I went cautiously, I would not allow myself to become too high for another fall.
Walla! This time of the costumes were of the male persuasion. I found a long brown robe with a cream strip in the font, a huge wooden rosary, and a wreath made of thorns. Halloween would come this year.
I’m at Zoka again. The pretty pixie girl is gone. She must have off because of the Halloween events last night. Her replacement is a tall with great purple red short hair that hangs long in the front and short in the back. (I love the neckline of a woman. It sometimes is sexier than nice pair breasts. Sometimes.)
My drink is a dark blend coffee from Kenya, its good without the muddy aftertaste some dark roast coffees have. Along with the java I’m eating a cherry vanilla scone. It has sweet patches of taste were the cherries are located and a light creamy taste everywhere else and the outside is crisp. It is almost a perfect scone. The worst scones are the overly sugared ones that taste resembles more of muffin or a donut. Falling just behind that is the original scone that is too much life a biscuit. I can’t down the original though, were would scones of the world be without it dough floured presence.
I rested my body in the Jacuzzi at the health club this morning. The place was crowded and I am starting to feel more comfortable with so many other people about. The pools lanes were full and two people in the Jacuzzi me in the middle.
One of them was a tall then man about my age. He told me about his plans to create a Halloween block party next year. Normally, I would of thought the man’s intentions to be fluff. There would be no party, but he seemed like a big doer. You know the type a list of accomplishments a mile long, the yard perfectly made up by his own hands, the standard good life he had always aimed to possess. When he left I hoped to see him again. I wanted to find out what was on the Thanksgiving agenda.
Earlier yesterday I had spent the better part of the morning hunting down a decent costume to wear last night. The first place just a few blocks from Northgate Mall was nice costumes and accessories lined the walls and shelves. I had found a robe for my ‘Fallon Monk, Judas, Jesus, Dead Sheppard’ costume, but when I put it on it become stuck on chest and shoulders. I stood there in the dressing room panicking thrusting my body up and down as if it were a straightjacket. It was no use the cloth wasn’t going to come off, so I opened the door, and pleaded with a lady to save me. She did and after much pulling and tugging the garment lodged itself from my torso. That’s when I looked at the packaging; it was a child’s robe. I had to snicker. Not only did I not read the tag, but also the robe was perfect height for my body. Being short sucks.
I left that store discouraged. In the car I even had thoughts of not going out for Halloween. Those thoughts didn’t last long. At the Next place Archie McPhee’s in Ballard. I also found nothing. Although, their was a chicken and gorilla costume the sales girl was trying to influence me to purchase. I looked twice at the chicken costume, but I had to turn it down. What does pretending to be a chicken say about my personality? OK, I might return for the chicken look for Mardi Grass, but for a pagan holiday, there was no way in heaven or hell.
Sitting in my car at the parking lot at Archie McPhee’s I was even more determined to find an outfit and make a good night of the holiday. A few minutes later I found myself in Capital Hill at the Crypt clothing store just off Broadway. The place is a strange mixture of gothic clothing and gay men’s clothing. And if you were wondering no the two don’t go together. They may have some of the same fabrics, leathers, etc, but never have I seen a goth/industrial dressed guy in leather chaps. With that said I searched the racks. There were a few pair of pants that I really liked, but I wasn’t in the mood for hemming plastic, or leather.
I left there to go to Hot Topic at the Market Shops on Broadway. It had been years since I had stepped into a Hot Topic. The whole idea of a chain goth store seems wrongfully too normal. Also many of the cliental is too young for taste. I don’t want to be shopping next to fourteen year old girls, even it there is a belt a like near her. Thankfully, the store on Broadway is a little unique. Whenever I have passed before glancing in the window, there were no teenie bobbers.
Only a block away walking on the other side of the street I was only a block and a half away from The Topic when I turned my head to see a huge sighs at Redlight Clothing Exchange “Halloween Costumes,” I might have been pardoned from a trip past Hot Topics doorway.
Upon walking in, I knew if I didn’t find the right costume in this place, this years Halloween would be a waste. I would have to play the fate and resort to bad horror movies a pound of Butterfingers and many a beer. There overflowing every rack were costumes. Black saton and brightly beaded fabrics were sticking crammed together. I smiled getting closer. It was all woman’s outfit. For a second, I wondered about how I would look in a plastic woman’s cat suit. The vision wasn’t pretty. I let the picture of myself explode into ball of smoke like my plans.
I was defeated. My favorite pagan event would be cancelled. With my head lowered I almost turned around to leave when I saw the stairs going down into the basement. “Yes”, I thought, “If there were a place for a ghoulish costume for me, surely the basement was appropriate”.
Down the steps I went to were the music was blaring, and after finally reached the bottom and looked to the right another I spotted another maze of Halloween duds. Joy again, hope was back, but I went cautiously, I would not allow myself to become too high for another fall.
Walla! This time of the costumes were of the male persuasion. I found a long brown robe with a cream strip in the font, a huge wooden rosary, and a wreath made of thorns. Halloween would come this year.