Finally, I have time to write about Halloween:
The day did not go well, which is fine because the night made up for it. I met Lindsay after work to organize her costume and to get ready for the evening. After rummaging through her place, she finally came up with being a samurai with a mustache. It was hysterical. I assembled my digs, put on my lamp hat, and the night commenced. We stopped for food on the way to the bar, which was the first encounter of the evening with the costumes. We were greeted by two older men who just thought we looked fantastic. It was a good sign. Lindsay was very humorous because she was so excited about my outfit that she felt she had to make sure everyone understood what I was, therefore, she asked everyone "do you get it?" For the most part, everyone figured it out. I can't tell you how many people thought it was the best idea ever (thank you, Sunshine). We were one of the first groups at the "crime scene" and enjoyed shots of whiskey and margaritas to kick off the holiday. Andrew was a little freaked out to see his wife in his jujitsu gi with a moustache, however, slightly proud of her creative abilities. We spent the next few hours socializing and scoping out the competition before we thought we'd check out the neighboring bars. At the next establishment, we encountered two arrogant young male smart asses posing as ancient authors. I have to admit I enjoy speaking to men like this because I think the majority of their arrogance is a result of insecurity, which allows me to use my powers of psychoanalysis to make them feel uncomfortable thereby less arrogant. I love it, especially when I have no intentions of talking to them again. (Horrible, I know.) We got bored chatting with them so we decided to head back to 51 Wharf for the remainder of the evening. Of course, I made friends with the DJ, Suppa, and his friends "Sugar Daddy" and Bigga. I have no idea how these African American men ended up providing music for this Halloween party in this "city" but I am glad they did because it was quality entertainment. Bigga asked Linz if she really practiced martial arts, she said, "no, but she does" pointing to me. This is where it always gets interesting in conversations. After some convincing and promising I wouldn't actually hurt him, he let me practice a new combination. (I find it HYSTERICAL when these six foot 300+ pound men ask me, 5'4" 130 pound girl, not to hurt them.) I was successful in flipping him over and pulling him down. It was awesome, and I was proud. After the karate expo, we headed to the bar for drinks. I offered to buy one for Bigga since he was so gracious enough to let me beat him up a little. He declined. I then said, "You must be a Muslim." Shocked, he said, "How did you know?" I just smiled and headed to the bar for more gin and juice. Sometimes, I wonder how I get away with these things... You really can't take me anywhere. Lindsay, Kiera, and I spent the rest of the evening drinking and dancing. At the end of the night, I was declared the winner of the costume contest, which finally allowed me to take off the lamp hat. Happily victorious, Lindsay and I headed back to her house to sleep.
P.S. Allison, you won the over and under.