parties can't save me

This weekend was the time for halloween parties. My friend Fat Tony had a last minute keg and costume party on his front porch. He invited me, but I declined. I wanted to see him dressed as Fidel Castro, but I didn't think I'd have the chutzpah to be sociable. Instead, SK and I had a quiet night. We ate a good meal, took a window-shopping walk around NW Spendythird and then we watched a movie at her place. Ironically, we drove past Fat Tony's on the way back to my house where we slept. His porch party looked pretty pathetic (much like this alliterative sentence). A handful of cold people sat huddled on his dirty looking porch under a bright, bare bulb, holding plastic cups of beer and smoking. I didn't see him, but I didn't have much time to look.

Then there was Leo's pumpkin carving party last night. I started at a major disadvantage, having just left a big fight with SK, who was supposed to be my date. I showed up at the party minus one girlfriend and one pumpkin and also minus my party spirit. The coolest thing that happened all night happened the second I pulled up. Right in front of my car, I saw a giant raccoon snooping around. He didn't seem to notice my idling engine, he just kept sniffing around the recycle bins, then he loped off across the street. He was *huge*! As big as a dog! I guess I've never seen a live one that close.

The party was ok. I decided not to try very hard. I opened a beer and started carving my pumpkin. Three beers later, I was sitting in the floor, deeply engrossed in a complicated etching project I'd given myself, hardly noticing the comings and goings of the people all around me. When I left, only Leo noticed. It was ok. I carved my pumpkin in the very traditional, triangle-eyes, triangle-nose, smiling-face-with-two-teeth style and he just looked so wholesome and clean-cut, I decided to give him a tiny little tear by his eye, the kind you get in prison for killing people. Then, once I'd made my wholesome pumpkin into a prison gangsta, I decided to etch a word in his back in Old English lettering, like the gangsta kids on tv have. You know. So I spent about an hour carefully carving the word "Patience" into his back. Because, as long as he's gonna sit in prison, he's gonna need a lot of patience.

Anyway, me and my gangsta pumpkin went home and sat with our own thoughts for the rest of the night. I miss having my own parties. For three years running, I've hosted my own awesome halloween parties and I am learning that those are the only kind of parties I can succesfully enjoy. I can talk to everybody because I invited them, and if I didn't invite them, I can talk to them anyway because they're in my house. I'm also able to keep busy, running around, tidying up and making sure the food's still stocked and the music's still going. In fact, I *love* having my own parties, especially at halloween. Its the one time of year I really welcome people into my space, not to mention, I love dressing up for it. I always go in boy-drag, something different every year. Three years ago I was a leather daddy, two years ago I was a dapper vampire in a top-hat and last year I was a cowboy. I make such a hot guy. (And modest.)

So, I'm a little bummed about the party scene this year. My place is too small to have a party and I don't have as many friends to invite anymore. I've painted myself into a corner, socially, these past few years and now I find myself reevaluating some things. Just me and my gangsta pumpkin, mulling over the compicated things in life. It could be worse.