October 31
Apart from my birthday, which is the most magical of all celebrations, I truly believe that Halloween is the best holiday of the year. Why?
First and foremost, you have an excuse to not only dress up in costume as an adult, but you can also be whoever or whatever you want – without any judgment. Well, as long as you stay within your racial bounds. Second, there's no snow outside. Christmas is great, but it's a little cold for my liking. Lastly, immediately after Halloween is over, it becomes socially acceptable to dust off Mariah Carey's Merry Christmas album and kick off the holiday season. When Christmas is over, all you have is the bleakocity of New Year's and four months of sub-zero temperatures to look forward to. Clearly, not as fun.
Today was the first Halloween that I've had to work on since 2013. Even then, I was working at The Store, so it wasn't exactly taxing. Starving yourself to fit into a costume is a lot harder when you have to start your day at 7 a.m. I got up on time, did my thing, and left the house while Aaron continued to sleep.
Work progressed at its usual glacial pace. There was absolutely no work getting done today. I was tired. I was hungry. As a result, I was also extremely irritable. Even Big Bird's breathing was pushing me over the edge today. By 4 p.m., I had reached my limit. I wonder if Big Bird sees any of that, though? A part of me thinks that Big Bird receives a similar annoyed response from anyone she communicates with for more than five minutes, so perhaps that's just how she sees the world. I was so tired of Big Bird's incessant nitpicking and indecisiveness over my work that I sat silently at my desk for the last hour of my day, counting down the minutes until I could punch out as she monologued.
After work, I hit the gym and struggled through my workout again. I'm basically running on fumes at this point. From there, I made my way home. I'm not sure what Aaron did all day – mostly because I didn't bother asking – but I think he had been home for a few hours when I arrived back at the Witch Cave. Aaron had already started getting ready for the evening, yet somehow, I was able to go from a post-gym gremlin to full-on Mariah Carey with freshly painted nails in the time it took him to be about 50% ready. I guess I'm getting better at this. The eyelashes are still fucking bullshit, though. Fuck that!
Later in the evening, Dan came over. The guy was in a fatigued funk that I'd never seen him in before. Halloween had officially taken its toll. Eventually, the three of us were ready to hit Church Street for the annual block party. Some strutting, photo shoots, and awkward poses later, we got in line for Woody's. That's around the time Dan tapped out. To be honest, I'm not sure what was still driving me at this point. I think I just loved being Mariah Carey so much that I didn't want to let her go. This has possibly been one of my favorite costumes ever. Just when I thought I wouldn't be able to top a previous year's costume, I came out with "Heartbreaker."
Aaron and I waited in line a little while longer before we were finally let inside Woody's. The bar was nut-to-butt crowded, but still a lot of fun. Aaron and I got drinks and did a few laps around the place, but the problem was that I wanted to hit on guys. It was hard to leave Aaron standing on the sidelines as I flirted. I took more bathroom breaks tonight than I've probably ever had at a bar, and that was for two reasons:
1. It gave me time to scout the joint for mens.
2. I wanted to make sure my look was fresh all night – and it was.
I love Halloween so much. I can get completely out of my comfort zone, and half of the people witnessing my antics don't even know that it's me beneath the wig. It's the best!
During one of my many visits to the bathroom, I ran into Spencer Grant. I caught a glimpse of him in the mirror as he was peeing at the urinal behind me. Spencer cocked his head over his shoulder – pun intended – to say hello.
"Kurt?" he shouted. "What the hell are you doing!"
Without even turning around, I continued touching myself up in front of the mirror.
"Brushing my hair," I replied. "Duh!"
Everyone at Woody's thought I was goddamn Britney Spears. It was only once they asked me to confirm their suspicions that I told them I was Mariah Carey. The reaction was the same thing every time. You would see the light go on above their head, and they'd finally get a fucking clue.
While finishing up in the bathroom, Spencer came over to the sink and we caught up quickly.
"I haven't seen you since the summer," Spencer said.
"Yeah," I responded. "The last time I saw you was when we fucked to Erin Brockovich while I had no teeth."
"Oh yeah!" he laughed.
And that was the end of that.
Aaron was a good sport tonight. Whenever I would disappear, he would happily spark up a conversation with the old guys around the bar. I don't think he was too bothered when I wanted to go hit on other guys. I feel bad about the way I talk about Aaron sometimes. I know that I sound like a total asshole, when the reality is that I truly value our friendship.
I don't know what it is. I think it might be an insecurity on my part. I worry that Aaron isn't telling me what he really thinks or feels, and will then harbor resentment over those emotions as a result. Truth be told, I highly doubt Aaron's anything like that. I mean, if the guy's view on marriage is any indication, perhaps some people really are that passive. Aaron is very sweet, though. He is easily one of my most thoughtful friends. When I got home from work tonight, Aaron had purchased a bottle of gin, a mixer, and some fruit as a thank-you gift for letting him stay at my place. Not many people do things like that. I really appreciated the gesture.
Whenever I would go to cruise, I would always return with a fresh drink for Aaron. It was the least I could do. I'd also buy a shot for myself, so I was getting sufficiently fucked up by the minute. The two of us stayed at Woody's a bit longer. I flirted with some boys, bluntly asked for their phone numbers, and had them take pictures of me. The usual.
Once we had our fill at Woody's, Aaron and I walked next door to Flash for a couple more drinks. I barely remember Flash. I wasn't blackout by any means, but I was pretty drunk. By this point in the night, it was nearing 2 a.m. Last call was upon us, and I was ready to be at home, in sweatpants, and eating a grilled cheese. So, that's what we did. Back at the Witch Cave, I made us food and we watched an episode of The Nanny before crawling into bed for the night.
Halloween, you've been a real gem. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to pull it off, but somehow, I mustered up the confidence to once again strut around in a skimpy outfit, sky-high shoes, and look pretty damn good doing it. I'm proud of myself. I also didn't get shit-faced. That's a blessing, too.
Goodnight xo
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Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 2 of 2)
Non-FictionHi, I'm Kurt. A binge-drinking, pill-popping disco diva with a heart of platinum and an appetite for self-destruction. Welcome to Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 2 of 2). Adapted from a collection of nightly...