hairbrained schemes

Dedicated.

Annual Halloween Party III is now over and we are almost recovered.

Our dog trainer told us that dogs yawn when they are annoyed. 

I'm certain Bella was just sleepy.

What could possibly be annoying about looking so damn dashing?

The table containing the body parts of one Mr. Hal O'Ween.

Disco Stu and his less than helpful Partner of the Round Table during the Mummy Wrap game.

More Disco Stu and the Waterless Apple Bob.

Our friends are dedicated.

How dedicated you ask?

Dedicated enough to go to the little grocery store up the hill and ask to borrow a shopping cart to round out a bag lady costume. 

And then fill said shopping cart up with assorted items and push it down the street and up a hill in order to make "an entrance".

That's dedication.

The bag lady in question and his Flashdance wanna-be friend.

Napoleon and Ugly Betty. 

More dedication.  Not only did Napoleon bring a binder with pictures of a Liger AND of his girlfriend, who is away modeling, but he also had a pocket full of tater tots and even ate one for us before realizing that maybe it was kinda gross that he just ate a tot  out of the pocket of a pair of jeans he picked up at Value Village.

Those are fake nails. 

And pantyhose.

And Beth's real name is Mark.

Dedication.

See how they stay in character?

Say it with me, now.

Dedication!

This is roughly around the time that things started to unravel and dedication took a backseat to shenanigans.

Bad Santa and his posse.

I think I dated that guy in 1984. 

And then I married the other one.

Spiraling a little more quickly now.

And with that I delete the more incriminating photos and bid you adieu.

Disco Inferno.

One of my biggest faults, in my opinion, is that I am not spontaneous. 

In fact, I can be quite pouty when things do not go exactly according to my plan. (hard to believe, I know, but I'm sure Gorgeous George and my mom will be commenting on this post to back that up).

Some might even call it anal, I prefer to call it knowing what I want...sure of myself...focused. (Dad, I'm finally understanding the whole frugal/cheap thing...it's all about perspective).

In addition to lacking spontaniety I am also quite lazy.  If an event or gathering seems like too much work, I usually will opt out if possible.

However, I am also a sucker for a good costume party. 

And I like boobs.

Which leads me to the point of this post. 

Saturday night my friends talked me into attending a local Breast Cancer Fundraiser called the Pink Party.  It is a Ladies Only event put on by a local resort.  Well, there were some boys there who I'm sure were really cute under their afros and bad 70's porn mustaches. (I did mention it was a 70's themed costume party, right?)  And the fact that they were bringing us drinks and serving us food always ups the cuteness factor a notch or two.

I resisted going to this party until I joined my friend, Nicole, at Value Village and we spent 3 hours trying on bell bottoms, an array of brightly patterned polyester and platform shoes.

By then I was hooked.

We managed to find 4 fairly matchy costumes and went as Diana Ross & the Supremes (my apologies to Diana Ross & the Supremes), who may have actually been more of 60's divas, but we are more about having fun than being historically accurate.  It's just how we roll.

It ended up being one of the most hilariously fun nights I've had in ages. 

I am still waiting for pictures from the actual party (and videos.  There may be a video floating around out there of me hula hooping and possibly doing the splits.  And there is definitely video of Nicole doing the running man.  Which again, not historically accurate, but by that time she had exhausted all her disco moves.)

Here are a couple of pictures of us before we hit the party, while our wigs were still straight and our shoes were still on.

And yes.  We all had wig envy.