Friday
Ok, so we got to watch Children of the Corn, and that's always good. But the trip to the corn maze was derailed by the fact that, when we opened the door to leave my apartment, there was white wall of water just outside the door. Holy crap was it pouring. So, faced with this dilemma, we did the natural thing. We charged through the monsoon and headed to the North Pole Bar, where we drank large quantities and drew pictures.

Ok, so you can't stay the whole night at the Pole. You have to move on, especially when the talk turns to karaoke, and the fact that a certain karaoke king was slated to appear at the Keyport Lounge, and that we could easily cross the bridge (it's just a bridge, get over it) to witness/participate in the karaoke mayhem.

I sung "Rock the Casbah." And I had my camera and huge memory card with, so we also set about the task of taking 246 pictures in one night. Mission ... accomplished.

This is my favorite of the bunch. Notice how the Summit sign makes an ominous cross shape. This could be the cover of a great horror movie that went straight to video.

Saturday

I was supposed to get my hair cut that day, but instead I slept until about 3:30pm, as is my usual waking time. I frittered away the evening, enjoying some rare time off, but then, around 11:30, I got a call from my favorite late-night partner in crime, Ms. Small, who brought over...

...the Midnight Indoor Sushi Picnic. OK, I provided the snazzy beach towel, but holy Christ, what do I do to deserve this treatment?

Then we watched They Shoot Horses, Don't They? which we enjoyed, despite its rather depressing themes.

Sunday

Another late rise, with a Pizza Luce brunch, and some lazing around in the evening, once again. I had to work at 12:15am, so I had no plans to attend C-Freak & Foggy's Halloween Bash, but once again, the Yippee Ki-yi-yay Small came forward and interrupted my plans for the evening, which originally involved watching things on PBS that I really wasn't all that interested in seeing. "I'm dressed like a cowgirl and we're going dancing," she said.

I said, "Uh ... no. I have to work. And I don't have a costume."

"There's a costume in your house somewhere," she said. I'll spare you the next 20 minutes of discussing whether or not I had a costume, and what that costume might be. Finally I was convinced realized that I did in fact have a mustard-colored T-shirt, and I did in fact have a Sharpie marker. I could, in fact, be Charlie Brown. I could go to the party for two hours before going to work.

Ah, the decision. Stay home and later hear about what happened at the party, or go to the party, see all the fun, and then leave to go to work?

Shit, man, you know me. I chose to go. Stay home? What was I thinking?

It was fun, and sure enough, I had to leave right when everyone was dancing to Michael Jackson's Bad album. Batman and Robin were hosting the party. Medusa and her son were there, seperately of course. The Ten Commandments monument was there. The Freedom Tickler was there. Ca-chee and Holden were there, both as real people and as characters. It's always a good costume party when you have to ask someone who they are dressed as, and they respond, "My brother."

And Charlie Brown is a great costume for when you have to leave the party mid-fun and go to work. It allows you to look at your watch and sigh a lot. When people ask you why you're not getting drunk and bouncing off the walls, all you have to do is say, "I went trick-or-treating and all I got was a bag full of rocks."

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