Samhain and Halloween parties
Samhain is this week sometime. Mercury is also in retrograde, which always sucks, but that is irrelevant where Samhain is concerned.
Celts celebrate Samhain like we celebrate everything - bonfires, special herbs and drinks and wild fucking. Samhain is the time of year when this world and the other world are easiest to cross between. The other world is where dead people are and a bunch of other stuff anyone who has done the reading will already know. The Romans ran our pagan ancestors into the woods calling them witches, and now it's Halloween. They must have made money off it somehow. For a modern day Roman Imperialist Jackass see George W. Bush.
I'm off to a Halloween party. At the moment, I'm not strictly sober - but I had to stop for a moment to remember a dear friend named Lesley. She passed a while ago. She was only 31 when she died from a blood clot in her leg. Lesley had a little PR company called "No Screaming" that handled a lot of rappers. At her funeral in Newark, some of the rappers sang gospel so well that Lesley could soar on to Glory straight through the roof of the church on the strength of their voices.
She would want to know that I bought a fabulous outfit for her funeral which I'm wearing to the party. Black skirt and top dripping in black lace - very pricey but in the dressing room I could hear her voice telling me to get it.
For Halloween this year I'm going as myself - I've never done that before. It's been especially hard to be myself at all these last twenty years or so on account of being married to Buzz Kill. I can't get into that now, though, or I'll be very late to the party. I will say this, though: On the first Christmas we spent together as a married couple, he presented me with a Leona Helmsley outfit: a terry cloth bathrobe, tiara and a long wand. If I knew then what I know now about his sexuality, I would have (Censored in case my kid finds this). The point, however, is that the tiara he gave me has always been too small which I believe is a metaphorical summation of our entire marriage. When someone wants you to wear a tiara that is too small - you need a new tiara.
PS: Next weekend the party's at my place. We're celebrating the successful run of a dear friend's Off-Broadway play AND Samhain. Blood Orange Martini punch and Special Herbs for everyone.
Celts celebrate Samhain like we celebrate everything - bonfires, special herbs and drinks and wild fucking. Samhain is the time of year when this world and the other world are easiest to cross between. The other world is where dead people are and a bunch of other stuff anyone who has done the reading will already know. The Romans ran our pagan ancestors into the woods calling them witches, and now it's Halloween. They must have made money off it somehow. For a modern day Roman Imperialist Jackass see George W. Bush.
I'm off to a Halloween party. At the moment, I'm not strictly sober - but I had to stop for a moment to remember a dear friend named Lesley. She passed a while ago. She was only 31 when she died from a blood clot in her leg. Lesley had a little PR company called "No Screaming" that handled a lot of rappers. At her funeral in Newark, some of the rappers sang gospel so well that Lesley could soar on to Glory straight through the roof of the church on the strength of their voices.
She would want to know that I bought a fabulous outfit for her funeral which I'm wearing to the party. Black skirt and top dripping in black lace - very pricey but in the dressing room I could hear her voice telling me to get it.
For Halloween this year I'm going as myself - I've never done that before. It's been especially hard to be myself at all these last twenty years or so on account of being married to Buzz Kill. I can't get into that now, though, or I'll be very late to the party. I will say this, though: On the first Christmas we spent together as a married couple, he presented me with a Leona Helmsley outfit: a terry cloth bathrobe, tiara and a long wand. If I knew then what I know now about his sexuality, I would have (Censored in case my kid finds this). The point, however, is that the tiara he gave me has always been too small which I believe is a metaphorical summation of our entire marriage. When someone wants you to wear a tiara that is too small - you need a new tiara.
PS: Next weekend the party's at my place. We're celebrating the successful run of a dear friend's Off-Broadway play AND Samhain. Blood Orange Martini punch and Special Herbs for everyone.
1 Comments:
Hey PE - it seems you and I have more in common than a bizarrely-named relative. I also wore the metaphorically too small tiara ... my brain was squeezed good and proper.
Hope you had a wonderful time at your party, wearing your gorgeous black outfit. Bloody good for you - be yourself and enjoy being yourself.
xx
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