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Halloween

November 1, 2009
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Halloween is a stupid holiday past the age of ten, but I deigned to venture out last night to a friend’s party and had a good time despite myself. Half the fun was sharing public transit with inebriated costumed folk, a combination that led to a public atmosphere of camaraderie that I haven’t experienced since election night last November. Someone dressed as a terrorist was bright enough to take the train to whatever party he was attending, which fell into the same category of ingenuity as the countless women whose precariously positioned skirts didn’t have a prayer once they tried to sit down. I saw more thongs in one evening than I did during an entire summer on the Mediterranean.

Party conversations were unusually unsuperficial and pleasantly meaningful; I met a Japanese guy dressed as a convincing Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite, and his Filipino American friend dressed as a foam-mattress-tin-foil burrito complete with sombrero. Freddy Mercury fell off the porch into a recycling bin during a discussion of the fundamentalism of atheism, which also included a man dressed as a baby with a cigar and two ravers, one of whom wanted to discuss the politics of marrying into an Israeli family (she’s a nice Jewish girl I knew before the conversation started, which made the whole thing less invasive than it sounds). A girl who has my dream job gave me a ride home and her contact info in case I ever decide to work in Boston, though it freaked me out how similar we were. We have the same name, the same cell phone, and live two blocks apart, for starters. It just got weirder from there.

I wish there was more candy rather than alcohol involved with Halloween as an adult.

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