I Want My Mummy.

I celebrated my first Halloween in New York on Monday. Halloween was never a big celebration in my family. Blame it on my parochial elementary education? Every year I used the same costume, a hand-me-down robe that my older brother had used in a school production, that would transform me from a "he'll grow up to be gay" adolescent to the coolest biblical prophet there ever was, Moses! I think I was Moses like four years in a row. Maybe one of those years I ventured to the New Testament and became John the Baptist, but I don’t remember. It was a costume awesome enough to open the Red Sea.
Then there were the college years where the masses flocked to State Street, and without failure, managed to light something on fire. I was a sailor those years. I remember once going to the mediocre gay club, Club Dive, err…Club Five and this older man approached me. “Those pants have nine buttons?” I looked down and began counting the U-shaped formation of the buttons. “That’s right! How did you know?” He replied, “I used to be in the Navy years ago and we called the flap that comes down our serving plate." Say, didn't the Village People record a song called "In the Navy"?
Post-UW, my costumes have become last minute creations. A cowboy one year. Last year, I was especially proud of my funny punny get up, a pot brownie. I dressed up as a brownie girl and pledged my allegience to Troop 4:20.
As you can tell already, I went as a mummy this year. It wasn't that I really wanted to be a mummy. Since purchasing some long underwear last week, I've become obsessed and I really wanted to wear my new favorite undergarments in public without getting arrested. My boss threw a party on her roof which just happened to be located above the start of the Village Halloween Parade. I loved the parade. The puppets, the music, the costumes, and especially the 60 degree temps–all great. One of my favorite costumes was the gay couple that each dressed up as John Paul II, then proceeded to make out hardcore every so often. Sin stank the air and the crowd overwhelmingly erupted with applause and cheers. Yes! The best though was the group of 20 to 25 people who recreated the "Thriller" music video as the song blasted down 6th Avenue. The party ended when the cops showed up. Something about 50 people on a roof and safety concerns? Afterwards, we headed to the Ear Inn (also known as the John Brown House), arguably the oldest bar in NYC. Its history is pretty neat. We ended up at this one guy's apartment and as the elevator arrived at the fourth floor, I expected the door to open to a hallway that would lead us to a tiny one bedroom. No...the door opened to one enormous room (think Alexender Petrovsky's place on SATC) that took up the entire area of the building itself. The Basquiat next to the coffee table that was bigger than my queen-size bed added a nice touch. After that, we went to The Cock which was...The Cock of course. Just a really fun night. Hop on over to Bonjour Photo for more photos. I'll be receiving a few more photos in the coming days too.

Isn't it amazing how fast time flies by? GWB won a second term one year ago. And really, isn't the country in better shape?!