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Dressed for Success

   You may know the saying "don't judge a book by its cover?"

   Well, if you're me, you do. I once bought a book on ebay that I had discovered in my elementary school library when I was in the fourth grade. When it arrived, I took one look at it, and promptly decided to buy the same book again when I realized the cover was wrong- not the one that had captured my youthful imagination the first time around. And then I donated the book with the offending cover to my university's library. Just one of those beautiful, life-coming-full-circle thangs.

Ummmm... No!

Much better







   Continuing in the same vein, judging me by my outsides is perfectly acceptable- one time a year. And that one time is Halloween. Feel free to form your opinions of me based on my carved pumpkin (who cares about the insides of those anyway), my haunted house decorating, and the level of success with which I replicate delicious holiday sweets from Pinterest and Women's World magazine.

It's Grumpy Cat, in case you couldn't tell

   I don't know why Halloween just does it for me. Scratch that, hell yeah I do! Candy, candy, and oh yeah, CANDY coming out the yin yang. And even better (as if that were possible), you get to dress up as all sorts of outrageous things. It's also that time of year that reminds me why I got that theatre minor in the first place.

   And really, it's the costume part of Halloween that has sorta become my trademark. And because this is MY blog, I get to both exhibit and brag about some of my favorite costumes- and you all get to do the judging. Which is really more or less unnecessary because these costumes have already been judged, and I've won four (count 'em) FOUR costume contests. 'Tis a proud legacy. Bragging (temporarily) over.

   Anyway, I guess it all started, as most things do (see above book cover scenario), in my childhood.
Is it creepy to think of yourself as a sexy kid? Or just narcissistic?
The High School years-

    The costume was my brainchild, but my mother's hard work. 

I'm a bunch of grapes! Please ignore the traumatic, junior year braces.

   Tragically, the grapes were not an award-winning costume. I had yet to come into my own. That honor lies with the year I was a picnic table. That colloborative effort involved both my mother and my father, and they accomplished said feat by covering a cardboard pizza box with the middle section of a picnic tablecloth. On top of the covered, flat box, my parents had managed to attach a picnic basket, complete with cutlery, plates, napkins, and food. I wore this insane contraption atop my head, all day long. The remainging material from the tablecloth fit comfortably around my shoulders and hung down to my hips. To complete the look, I painted my face red, painted ants on the toga part of the tablecloth and voila! Instant Senior year stardom. Sorta. Most regretably, I cannot currently locate a photo of this costume. As soon as I do, you can bet your sweet trick-or-treat that I'll be posting it.

The College Years-

   Freshman year of college, I went as a mildly sexy vampire. Not too shabby. Sophomore year, I went as a dark fairy, winning me my second costume contest, which I really didn't understand. I mean, it looked pretty good, by there was some REALLY stiff competition. There was a guy who freaking dressed like princess Leia, buns and all, and the best part- FULLY BEARDED!

I add this without permission of the subject. And it feels so liberating!



   Ironically, the year I lost first place as the grapes as a high school junior, I also lost 3rd place- to a dark fairy. Then, a mere three years later, I WIN as a dark fairy. I was both annoyed and pleased with myself.
Make-up mask courtesy of friend/roomie Alta Stokes-Baxter.


   For my Junior year of college, I'm ashamed to admit that I went to the Internet for creative counsel. Hey don't judge (even though I specifically gave you permission to earlier). It could have been a rough year, emotionally, scholastically, etc. Who knows; I sure don't remember. Regardless, the resulting ipod dancer costume turned out pretty cool.

That night, I could have made my motto "dance like no one's watching. Except I hate that motto, and I hope everyone WAS watching. I sure as hell put enough effort into this absurd get-up.


   And alas, we have my first Senior year of college. My dad had always said a zit would make a good costume, and that year, I must have been feeling pretty zitty (phonic word play intended), and so I went for it. Uh... yeah...

I used whipped cream as the pus, which I would squirt into my mouth, and then spit out when I squeezed myself (only when I was outside, of course. I'm not an animal).

It takes a very special friend, however unwilling, to put themselves in this compromising position.
   Second Senior year is, by far, one of my favorite costumes of all time. Sometimes, like with this year, inspiration doesn't strike until a few weeks before Halloween hits. But that year, that glorious year, I knew months in advance what I would be, and it all came to me as I simply walked home from class, just like any other day...
   Say hello to costume contest winner #3.

I'm ALWAYS watching!

You may recognize this girl from a previous Halloween. This is my friend, Crotch, and yes, that is her name (that I gave her Freshman year of college).


And now, without further ado (or costumes), here is my latest, and 2nd favorite costume:


This was taken at work. I handed out Skittles and everything. For HR reasons, I avoided saying "taste the rainbow."

 And that brings us to the present, where I now have to figure out how to win a 5th contest. Damn this abominable success! It's like cocaine, or something I can actually relate to, SUGAR! It's addictive, and I greedily desire more. So the wheels are in motion, and I'm already strategically planning ahead. I have a couple ideas; nothing set in stone.



I've always thought Jennifer Aniston could pass for my Doppleganger...

Here's to hoping you all had a Halloween equally as delightful. Due to the fact that I was dieting, I didn't eat any candy. Not a single piece- a confession that does not please me in the slightest. But being down 28 pounds does. Hey, it wouldn't be a proper entry if I didn't fit in one more bit of bragging here at the end. And on that note...

Frightfully and fitfully yours,

Sweens


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