Halloween NYC

The scary thing about Halloween in New York City is that you're never quite sure if folks are in costume or if they just be cra-zy. This morning, for instance, I saw a grown-ass man walking down the street in a diaper and baby bonnet. Now of course this was a costume, but at 8:30 in the morning it was still a bit odd. But then because it was New York, no one even looked twice at this 6-foot-tall man with hairy legs sucking on a pacifier. I mean, he can't be any crazier than the guy wearing a tu-tu that shouts obscenities at passersby every other day of the year.

There are so many crazy people here there are days it feels like an asylum. Hell, half the time I feel like I'm the one that should be institutionalized. It's little wonder though, with how many folks there are. You just try cramming onto the subway at rush hour one good time, when the platform is 7 people deep and folks run over small children to squish themselves into a car. You'll be half-crazy inside 15 minutes and that's not an exaggeration.

The Halloween crazies are generally harmless, though not quite as much fun. I mean, if you pick out your clown clothes to mismatch on purpose it's not the same as the folks who really think they should wear bright orange with paisley and hats adorned with fake flowers. There are those who try to "dress up" with the little cat ears and eyeliner whiskers but those folks don't even count. In New York it's "go big or go home," no half-assed attempts at costumes will do!

And because it's New York and the limits here were set to be pushed, there's even a truck the travels to each Ricky's costume store with a stage where sexy maids, schoolgirls, and devils gyrate around with their asses out for all the sidewalk to admire. Totally inappropriate. Totally Trashy. Totally New York.

I'm kind of over Halloween as a general rule, especially when it falls mid-week and I don't have time to have a hangover at work the next day. I do however support the eating of candy and buy strategically (as did my mother) for the "trick-or-treaters." See Mum always had a big bowl of crap candy, you know, the assorted bag of smarties and generic blow-pops, from which she loaded up the bags of cutely dressed kids at our door. Then there was the extra stash just in case she ran out. Odd that we never ran out and odd that the "emergency candy" was bags of miniature Milky Way and 3 Musketeers. Even more odd that only she knew the location of said stash, though occasionally I would stumble upon a half-eaten bag in the back of some rarely-used cabinet around Valentine's Day. But I guess that's the secret to a happy Halloween for adults. We don't get too many kids in apartment buildings up here so I have to eat all the left-overs...needless to say I don't buy smarties;-)

New Orleans "Sightseeing"

Just last week Sweetpotato and I celebrated our first anniversary with a trip to The Big Easy, and what a luurvley trip it was. New Orleans is the kind of place where you can do nothing but eat, drink and sleep and feel good about it. I mean there are tours to take and sights to see, if you're into that sort of thing, but we're more "as seen from your bar stool" kinda folks.

Now the one thing that is totally trashy but institutional nonetheless about New Orleans are all the titty bars. I mean, they don't bother me or anything, but I really don't feel it necessary that they advertise with pictures of half-naked teenagers in the window! I mean, there are children walking by for goodness sake! And then at night of course, the "ladies" appear in the doorway in their undies, holding up cardboard signs as if being named 'Barely Legal' didn't tip us off to what went on inside.

These stripper girls aren't the ones I'm concerned with though- they are exactly who they say they are- it's the waitresses at the other bars that are the issue. Now I have waited tables in my day so I understand there is an element of whoring yourself out to any service job, but to do it while actually looking like a whore, no that's something else all together. I mean these girls are serving beers for all the world in hot pants and bra. And I'm fine with it- really, I have no "objectification of women" issue cause they wanna look like this- but I'm just saying, honey ain't this a lotta extra work? Cause you know it's hard enough to keep weight off in a world where everything good is deep-fried or soaked in alcohol, but to have to walk around with your ass cheeks hanging out every night certainly curtails your eating enjoyment. Serving folks is a tough job to begin with, but to have to worry about your cellulite getting squashed out from under your faux-leather chaps, well that's just too much pressure!

In the end, I guess they make their tips cause the bars were certainly packed with bachelor parties and frat boys, all just dying to take a shot of midori from between their implants. I was quite pleased when my Sweetpotato turned down the little shot girl's pouty offer of a green tube, though I know he really did want to help her "put herself through college" (code: buy more cocaine)

You know these girls are writing home to they mommas that they have a great bar tending job to earn a little extra spending money, details like they've dropped out of school and ride mechanical bulls in their swimsuit conveniently omitted.

I guess the argument in the end, is that you do what you gotta do to pay the bills, but I know I'm drawin the line. I will do plenty of things to make money honey, even schelp around cocktails to poorly behaved assholes but to be sure if I've gotta suffer though the service industry I'd damn well better get to wear pants!

FOUND

FOUND: 5lbs.

5 uncomfortable pounds found in a pair of jeans earlier this week. As they hadn't been worn in a while, exact timing of first sighting hard to determine but the location was near a wine glass.

Jiggly and bulging with dimples in both cheeks.

Appears to answer to "nachos" and "pasta."

Would LOVE to return to rightful owner.

If yours, please call 555-CHUBS

Dear god, I have picked up some extra lbs and I can't seem to put them down!! It's most disheartening because I can't figure out what I've done differently to incur them. This morning I put on a pair of jeans I've had for quite a while and they were unusually tight. I blame the closet, things you haven't worn in a while are always shrinking on their hangers!

Now granted, when I bought these jeans I didn't drink wine every night, and I did walk to work rather than take the subway. Oh, and I couldn't afford take-out for dinner and consumed more rice cakes than anyone ever needs to, but that hardly seems fair. You go and have a good time in life and weight jumps on you like a bum on a bologna sandwich!

And here I go to the gym just as much as I used to, of course I might not workout quite as hard now that I can watch General Hospital on the treadmill (if you jog the picture moves too much!)

Whatever, these pounds just showed up in my backyard and now I have to take care of them? This is crap. People need to take better care of their extra weight and not let it wander off through the neighborhood!

If you'll excuse me, I have to go scour the Internet for miracle diets.