Bho Who (A Sob Story)

Halloween is another one of those days that puts pressure on you to have a good time, like New Year's Eve and, uh, Wednesdays.

When Spook-day falls on a weekday, you basically get two days in which to revel, one on the 31st, the other on the closest Saturday. So, this past Saturday was the night of my friends' annual Park Slope Halloween Ex-Scare-a-Ganza. (I made that last part up.)

I started a trial at a new gym on Saturday, so before the party, I had my first workout since the end of Edinburgh (the month that falls between July and September, although I forget which emperor made it that way). I trimmed my beard and cut the errant hairs from my nostrils, put on clean duds and generally felt good about myself.

A trip to Ricky's (a store) supplied me with a sparkly, colorful, mardi gras-style mask, so I could, via a gaudy kind of minimalism, get into the spirit(s) of the night. (Boo!)


(Holy Stromboli! I'm fallin' asleep so I'm gonna have to finish this later. Come back. Please.)