Transplanted Life
Saturday, November 01, 2003
Looks like the hangover's finally gone
That's a new record for me - I've never gotten so wasted as to be completely useless for pretty much a whole day. Not even in college.

Halloween's surreal at the best of times, but last night... I got home from work and resolved that I would hand out candy for an hour or so before heading in to Somerville. I'm not in the greatest neighborhood, but there's still families with kids in the building, some of them real cute. Besides, I already splurged on the giant bag of peanut butter cups anyway.

It also gave me time to iron out the wrinkles in my costume. I'd bought a Supergirl costume off the rack, but it was sort of a one-size-fits-all thing and once Kate told me it fit (even if I understood the system used to determine women's clothes sizes, there's apparently insane variation between different stores), I was just sort of glad to be done.

The thing that drove me most nuts was the wig. I've only really had what I would consider long hair for a month or so, and it's just now getting past my shoulders. Its chestnut brown isn't really a match for Kara Zor-El's blonde, though, so I decided to try the wig. The thing is, I've never used one before. Heck, I'd never really even tried to put the hair I've got right now in a bun or otherwise "up". I eventually had to get one of the kids' mothers to do it for me.

This was after I realized that this costume was designed for someone just a bit less busty than Michelle, meaning it was tight enough that you could see my bra right through it. I figured I looked silly enough in the spandex top, short red skirt, and boots, and I'd paid just enough for the costume that if I was going to look stupid, I'd look authentically stupid, since I don't recall ever seeing Supergirl's bra or bra straps showing in any comic I'd read. Going without for one night wouldn't kill me.

Of course, while Mrs. Chan was putting my hair up, she pointed out that my nipples were showing. They weren't when I put the top on, but apparently moving back and forth or something had made the dang things stand up. So after the kids were gone I got some of the tape for bandages out of the first aid kit and did the X's. Kind of uncomfortable, but once it was done and the wig was on, I don't know how to describe how I felt looking in the mirror. I've gotten sort of used to Michelle's face and body and all, but with the blond hair, the superhero costume, and the weird sensation of the tape which I couldn't see, it was like the mirror wasn't even a mirror, but a window.

I wasn't the only person on the T wearing a coat over her costume, but there weren't that many yet. But I was kind of in a "who cares" mood; that second of not seeing the girl in the mirror as me, exactly, kind of made me feel like I was just playing dress-up or something. In a weird way, putting on the mini-skirt, wig, boots, and spandex made me feel more like Martin Hartle than I had in weeks.

I bumped into Carter at the T station; he was wearing a serious coat over his loincloth (it wasn't that cold, but it was good to be prepared in case the weather turned). He didn't recognize me at first, what with the wig and all, but he smiled big when he did. "Great costume! I wish you'd told me you were doing that, so I could have just pulled out a good suit and gone as Lex Luthor. Are he and Supergirl still dating?"

I laughed. "Not for something like ten years. Haven't been keeping up?"

"One of my foster families wouldn't let me have them, and soon I was too busy studying and doing ROTC to get out of whatever dump I was in at the time to pick it back up later."

"That's too bad; you've totally missed all the great stuff Oni's put out."

"You'll have to take me to a comic shop sometime and show me what's good."

"It's a..." Whoa. "Okay."

"Keen. Now can you show me the way to Jen's place?"

We weren't the first there by a long shot. Kate ran over to give me a hug, looking great in her pirate outfit. So did George, who I was surprised to see was in his mid-thirties. That's not out of line, really; I'd just pictured a guy about Kate's own age (late twenties), is all. He seemed cool, though. A little jealous when Carter gave Jen his coat, though... Let me just say the guy works out. He pulled Tarzan off with flying colors. Kate smiled at me. "Looks like you hit the jackpot."

"Oh, we're not here together..."

"We just met at the station..."

"I just didn't know how to get here."

One of Carlos's friends just rolled his eyes. "Guys, look at each other. It's not like either of you has any reason to fight it."

"I didn't mean it that way..."

"She's a wonderful girl..."

In unison: "It's just too soon."

We talked a bit, but I was soon making my first visit to the bar.

I had fun, though. I danced. I can't remember the last time I danced at a party, but, again, I sort of felt unconnected to any consequences. And it helps to have something to shake. As a guy, I never really got much out of dancing, but when you feel your butt or boobs or hair shifting a bit, it feels more like you're doing something, and having your hair (even if it's just a wig) whipping around is kind of exciting after a few drinks. And dancing with Godzilla (even sober, I still have no idea who was in that) was just hilariously ridiculous. You've got to jump over his tail and there's no way he (or she, for all I know) could feel a thing when he was running his hands over my body, the costume was so thick and authentic.

One of the last to arrive was Dimitri and his date. I was dancing with Mark at the time, and I was alerted to Dimitri's arrival when his jaw dropped. I turned around, and could see why. It was that girl from the pushcart, looking a little older in her goth-bride outfit, but still... Mark muttered something about how now that the children were here, we could start bobbing for apples. To her credit, she didn't wilt under the disapproving looks. When she went into the bathroom a minute later, though, Mark and I sidled up to him. "You've got guts, man, bringing jailbait to a party where half the people are off-duty police officers."

Dimitri snorted. "She's 17; that's not against the law."

"Yeah," I said, "but it's against the half-and-seven rule."

"What's that?"

"Just a rule of thumb. Take the older person in a relationship, divide his - because it's almost always the guy - age in half, and add seven to it. If the other person's age is lower, the pairing is officially icky."

(Yeah, I said "icky". What can I say, that's the exact word Wei used when she first explained the rule to me)

"Bah, it's no big deal in Russia."

Mark rolled his eyes. "You haven't lived in Russia for ten years!!"

The girl (whose name is evidently Sam) came back at that point so we stopped ragging them. Then we really did start bobbing for apples. I'm guessing alcohol can be absorbed through the skin, because I didn't swallow enough of the vodka-laced water to get nearly as wasted as I did. Of course, eating the apples which had absorbed the liquor didn't help, nor did whatever those things Carlos's friend Eric made using pumpkin, rum, and a blender. I really don't remember much from the end of the party.

Overall, though, it was fun. Changed my opinion of Halloween a bit, at least.

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