Tuesday, November 24, 2009

November 1st.

Last year on Halloween, I was on a plane. It was my first ever trip on the Saab, my favorite beastly plane, and I was finishing up my inflight training. I impressed the pants off my instructor, whose last student left much to be desired and made me even more awesome in comparison. My very sweet-yet-weirdly-hardcore instructor showed me how to fill out the catering supply list, and she drew a festive little ghost for the caterers. She was wearing Halloween socks, which she told me were perfectly acceptable, as long as they are mostly black.

I got home in plenty of time to be able to drive to Duluth, where all my friends already were, and I called scheduling feeling hopeful. Note: Never call scheduling feeling hopeful. I told them I was off of OE (Operational Experience, aka inflight training) and wondered whether I would or would not be on reserve the next day. As it turned out, I would. My hopes sufficiently crushed,I went about my day at home, trying not to think of the mischief my friends would no doubt be getting into.

I was actually called for a trip the next morning (probably because I was the lowest person on the list, having just reached official status less than 24 hours previously), and that day I stepped foot onto the CRJ200 for the first time. A good plane, but not what I had in mind for Halloween weekend.

This year, I wanted to be home for Halloween. I wanted to dress up and go out, and I wanted to eat way too much sugar and drink way too much... sugar. *cough*

Jess was planning on a huge bash at her parents' house, with costumes and games and food and sugar and drinking and everything I could want in one convenient location. Schedules came out at the end of September, and lo and behold! I did not have Halloween off in its entirety, but I did get off by 2pm, which really is just as good. I was going to be Ariel, because I've strangely never dressed up as her for Halloween, even though I've loved her since I was five, and I already have the red hair.

Well, the party fell through long ago, as did my plans for Ariel (someday, though. Someday.), but we managed to scrape together a pretty decent time. I was a little nervous because, strangely enough, D was going to be there (that's the thing about having an ex-fiance - you still have a lot of the same friends!) along with, even weirder, his new girlfriend. Awk-ward! It turned out to be kind of awesome, though. There was a large group of us, and we spent most of the night at a gay bar, where some very compromising photos of almost everyone were taken, and where our group ended up somehow commandeering the stage towards the end of the night. It was an interesting night, to be sure, and I don't think I could've hoped for anything better, given the strange circumstances.

And I got my wish: I was home, I was in costume, I had way too much sugar, and I drank way too much.... sugar. Er, jag bombs have sugar, don't they? But I got even more than I'd originally hoped for, because I had a blast with my sister, my amazing bff, a friend who flew in Florida, and my very fantastic boyfriend, who very kindly put up with my obnoxious drunken self.

Plus, I was a lolcat. So that is pretty much awesome.

As a bonus, I discovered while looking through my pictures that my black pants were see-through in the stage lighting. It may or may not be time to invest in some new pants.

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