The dream is over. My final collegiate Halloween has come and gone. My fantasies of outlandish costumes have gone out the window faster than Michael Jackson's children. No longer will I be able to cavort around the University dressed like an idiot. That is, unless I join the Purple Shadows or the pep band.
Just kidding, of course. But seriously, I'm gonna miss Halloween. It's one of those rarest of American collegiate holidays, one that officially lasts a week and a half. College kids start planning costume ideas the second they kiss mom and dad goodbye on Move-In Day. It's perhaps the ultimate celebration of college, a bacchanalia dedicated solely to hedonism, lack of responsibility, and -- if you're a girl -- making absolutely any outfit much, much sluttier. I mean, let's face it. Girls don't have to try at all to have an entertaining costume. Want to go as a firefighter? Why not a slutty firefighter? Thinking zombie this year? How about slutty zombie? Just add fishnets and a general disregard for personal dignity, and you're set.
Me? I'm a costume aficionado, myself. I cherish a good costume the way a parent cherishes a child or the way Louie Anderson cherishes butterscotch crumpets. I put a lot of hard work into my costume each year, and I'm rarely outdone. I've had four years of practice, so Halloween costuming is an art form by now. This year saw a new personal best for me -- five consecutive nights of Halloween parties. Knowing full well my escapades would one day be immortalized in Hollywood biopic form, I decided to keep a play-by-play journal.
Tuesday, Oct. 30: First night. Gotta make a big impression. Tonight's agenda: crashing Halloween parties hosted by the English and history clubs, respectively. For the English Club, I've decided to go as Lolita, from Nabokov's book "Lolita." I thought cross-dressing for sure would win me the admiration of all present, but I was upstaged by somebody dressed as Slutty James Joyce. An inspired choice, I must admit. Mustn't get discouraged, though.
Next up is the History Club soirée. Not wanting to be upstaged by any potential competition this time, I decide to go as Slutty Charlemagne. A wise decision.
Wednesday, Oct. 31: Halloween night. The one people remember. Well, perhaps not. Nevertheless, just because there will be few recollections of this night doesn't mean it's time to slack off. With that in mind, it's time to go slightly offensive -- I dress as the California wildfires. I simply tape a big cardboard map of California to my torso and festoon myself with papier-mâché flames. Many fellow students are aghast with horror at my insensitivity. Poor decision.
Thursday, Nov. 1: For tonight, I've decided to bust out the trump card for costumes -- Albus Dumbledore. In light of recent revelations from author J.K. Rowling, however, I've tweaked ole Dumbledore's getup slightly. Ordinarily, he'd be clad in a wizard hat, half-moon glasses, long silver hair/beard and huge flowing robes. Well, I've got the hair/beard and glasses, but I've replaced the robes with other clothing. I won't say with what, but I am wearing jorts.
A rousing success.
Friday, Nov. 2: In memory of our dearly departed colleague Mr. Robert Goulet, I decide to host a party -- Ghosts and Goulets. (Goulet, ghoul ... sort of. I'm sorry.)
Party is wildly disappointing, since nobody knows who Robert Goulet is unless they've seen that Will Ferrell SNL sketch. Poor form, Brendan. You should know better.
Saturday, Nov. 3: The anchor leg, this one has gotta be big. For tonight, I've decided to crash a Board of Visitors party in the Colonnade Club. These are the high rollers of the University community, so unless you go big, they won't be impressed. Not surprisingly, I receive high-fives aplenty when they see my Slutty John T. Casteen, III outfit.
A rousing success.
So there you have it. I'm waiting for Warner Bros. to get on the horn and work out this movie deal, but I understand if they want to take their time. You can't force a masterpiece, after all. To help them with their decision, I've included a picture of myself as Slutty Studio Exec.
I'm gonna miss dressing up.
Brendan's column run biweekly Mondays. He can be reached at collins@cavalierdaily.com.
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