the Dalaverse

Jesus Christ. It's 6:16 pm on the day after Hallowgreens, and I'm still hungover enough to keep me from doing anything with my stat homework but stare at it.

The rum is gone because I broke up with it. I'm sure we'll get back together at some later date, but for now we're splitsville.

I know I'm not going to want to do this in the morning, but I can't possibly want to do it any less than I want to do it now. I'm going to go home, take a nap, and then possibly write about the insanity.

Okay. I have progressed sufficiently far enough in my recovery from yesterday that I can sit down and type at length. We'll begin with the traditional pre-party shopping expedition. I went with the Jeanne, Gwen, Jeanne's boyfriend Mike, and their friend Colby contingent because Alexis wasn't home when I called. We never actually made it to Waldorf, because first we had to stop at Sheetz for food and then we spent forever in Vintage Values hunting for costume elements. I think half the school was in there that afternoon. I was annoyed to find a vest that would have been fricken perfect for a pirate costume -- brocade-like and high up to the neck -- but wouldn't work with the alterations I had planned for Hallowgreens (read: was not conducive to cleavage). I did, however, find a pair of black leather boots, and the others were more successful. Gwen scrapped her Queen of Hearts idea in favor of this fabulous black sequined strapless gown, which she decided would do for a lounge singer. Mike bought stuff for three separate costumes, but ended up deciding on Lieutenant Dangle from "Reno 911." And Jeanne found a housecoat to go over her vintage '40s pinup girl lingerie, which she didn't end up wearing, but it's a nice coat anyway. We went to Target next, where I was extremely disappointed not to find a skirt that would work, but I did get really great piratey jewelry. Dollar store for Mike's cap guns, Halloween store for a plastic sword, body glue, fake mustaches, and some screwing around in wigs (note to self: do not ever go blond), Cook's for liquor, and home again.

I lugged all my stuff to T5 to get ready. Even with the skirt that's too big, the costume turned out well -- the red and white striped thigh-highs looked great and my leather coat matche the boots so I didn't have to freeze to death (I decided I hated the blouse, so I wore the suede bodice over a flesh-colored tank top). I'll see if I can get pictures, because I didn't take my camera. Jeanne looked trampy and vampy and fabulous (somewhere there is a picture of me with my nose at her ass while securing her garter stockings), Gwen looked beautiful (she bought a great little hat and costume jewelry from an antiques store), Colby decided to go as a mustachioed '80s aerobics instructor in short shorts and legwarmers (the night's catchphrase was "So many mustaches!"), and Mike's Lieutenant Dangle was hilarious. I giggled every time I looked at him. Michelle came home to assemble her costume, which was positively inspired. She bought a length of green fleece and wore it kind of like a cape, but with the top half tied tight around her upper body, with bands of lighter green felt -- a caterpillar. I helped her put the bands on with Velcro, thankfully not too inebriated yet.

I have to face facts and admit that despite the alcoholic genes, I am a complete lightweight. I only had two ciders and four (large!) shots of Mount Gay (HEE) Rum before I was completely and utterly shitfaced. I was so drunk. So drunk. At least I was in good company. We bought the wristbands that would allow us to get alcohol from any of the participating houses and entered the main part of the evening's festivities: admiring everybody's costumes, and weaving around the green either trying to find people or trying to get away from them. This part's a little blurry -- I remember it, but am iffy on the details. At some point Colby and I went off to DPC to find a bathroom and then were looking for Jeanne. Then we saw Lauren and were looking for Alexis. I can't remember a lot of the costumes, either. There were a lot of other pirates, a Bo Peep carrying an actual goat around (which was dressed as a sheep), a Carmen Sandiego and Indiana Jones couple, a Paris Hilton, a shotgun wedding bride -- oh, and two of Jeanne's friends we hung out with were dressed as a priest and a pregnant nun. And there seemed to be twenty different Teams Zissou.

I said and did a number of dumb things. I spilled sangria on the living room wall (cleaned it up right away). I told Colby he was named after a cheese and then waxed poetic about cheese for ten minutes. I babbled to anyone I recognized from class. I ran up to a group of pirates and drunk-hugged them. I rubbed Vera's shaved head, which I want to do every time I see her, and stroked her dildo (she was dressed as Jesus with a hard-on. I thought this was funny in a horrifying sort of way).

However, Jeanne eclipsed me big-time. Michelle had locked the house up to keep it safe from maurauding drunkards, and Jeanne didn't have her keys. So when we wanted to go inside for some reason, we went around back to try and get in a window or the back door. Nothing seemed to be working, so Jeanne decided to throw a cinderblock at the window. And who should be attracted by the sound of glass breaking but Public Safety -- and not just Public Safety, but the head of Public Safety. He gave us a hard time at first because Jeanne and Priest were a little belligerant, but once she started in with the crying he just wanted to get out of there. It's a well-known fact that this guy can't deal with hysterical females, so he just called an officer with a set of keys to let us in and made her promise to call about the window today. None of us had any drinks on us, thank god, so they can only make her pay the damage, not write her an alcohol citation.

We spent the rest of the night telling the window story and doing another shot, which was clearly a flawed concept. Apparently there was still a little more drunk for me to get. I tried to drink some water, but I kept sloshing it out of the mug, so I barely got any down. Some random guy had to be chased away from a totally inert Gwen on the futon, after which we put her and a calmed-down Jeanne to bed. I decided that staggering back to WC was not an option, so I slept in Michelle's bed while she slept in Giselle's because Giselle was gone for the night. I love how I managed to strip down to tank top and underwear, taking off my jewelry and the braid out of my hair and everything, yet I unknowingly slept with a tube of lipstick between my boobs all night.

In the morning, there was hell. I lay in bed with a deeply unsettled stomach for a couple of hours until I managed to throw up, after which I felt slightly better. Poor Michelle was sick as a dog. We rallied enough to get to brunch. I faced an interesting problem of feeling like I needed to eat but being disgusted by the actual food. All I could take was a plateful of fresh pineapple. I got through the rest of the day in a haze, trying to rehydrate. Right now I feel like I'm almost completely better after a fever. Was supposed to watch a movie with Larry, but I'm thinking I'll be going to bed early instead.

It was worth it, though. I made a vow to Jeanne and Gwen that I was going to drink unto extreme drunkennes, and I kept my word. It's like a victory for all humankind, really. Have a happy October 31st, all.