After spending last year’s Halloween in bed with a fever, I was determined to squeeze every bit of spooky pleasure out of this weekend. To begin, I had my boyfriend and a friend come over to carve out pumpkins. Scooping out slimey pumpkin entrails with my bare hands wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be, but the end result was well worth the gross factor.

Orlando, despite the tourism and the recent renovations in city planning, is nothing like any major cities that come to mind. So, when Halloween comes around, our downtown district becomes less of a trendy, sophisticated costume party and more of a How-Can-I-Turn-Any-Holiday-Into-A-Reason-To-Drink-And-Dress-Like-A-Prostitute occasion. For the evening, I prepared a Japanese Schoolgirl costume which consisted of a black wig, a black pleated skirt, loose socks, pink tie and sailor bow, pink backpack and random Hello Kitty accessories. I had my unsuspecting boyfriend dress as my English teacher in a brown, tweed jacket and tote a ruler with him (the transformation for him wasn’t too difficult since he’s already exasperatingly smarter than I am). The streets of downtown were crowded with generic costumes and general debauchery. As we made our way toward Club Paris (reluctantly I might add), I could hear a distinct sound rising from the crowd and suddenly Gene Frenkle with a cowbell emerged. He sliced through the crowd with his cowbell outstretched over his head banging away all by himself. And that, my friends, was the best costume ever.

I recently purchased a bagload of yarn and supplies from Target’s dollar rack. Being a new knitter, I’ll probably never make good use of these materials but it’s the thought that counts. I’ve also joined a local knitting group that meets at a bookstore regularly to knit, chat and knit some more. This will be a perfect opportunity to embarrass myself.