"There is no more miserable human being than one in whom nothing is habitual but indecision."

That little nugget o' insight from American philosopher William James (godson of Ralph Waldo Emerson, don't ya know).

So, here I sit in front of the computer at my folks' house at 2:03 in the A.M. My sister and brother-in-law's big Halloween gathering is tonight, and, as of yet, I have no costume. Worst case scenario, I can throw on jeans, a sweatshirt, sneakers and a cap and go as the fat drunk in serious need of some major depilatory work... but I'd like to put a little more effort into it. I was thinking I might use the occasion as an excuse to get my hair cut into a mohawk (no early midlife crisis here, gang!), but, alas, the "punk" attire selection at the local Bizarre Bazaar doesn't feature much in the way of plus-sizes. Oh well... here's hoping that sometime in the next 12 hours, the Lord sees fit to bless me with a garment-related epiphany so that I may go out and celebrate the forces of evil in style!

And while we're on the subject of present-day Hall-O-Couture, why are seemingly all women's costumes slutty / sexy this, that or the other??? The sexy cop, the naughty nurse, the whorish harlot, the slutty slut... sheesh! Are we celebrating All Hallows' Eve or attending a Frederick's of Hollywood runway show? I was sharing this particular lament (I'm kind of bad about sharing all my laments... and they are legion. Quite frankly, sometimes I'm surprised that people still allow me to speak to them) with my very lovely friend Alessandra. She, being quite the clever one, is going as a 1920's era "flapper girl". Now Alessandra is an attractive young lady, and I'm quite certain she will be plenty sexy in her guise, but she won't have to dress like a prostitute to achieve said effect.

Maybe I'll grab a white shirt, black slacks... pick up a black vest, toy gun and a six-pack of Stroh's and dress as an "I really let myself go" Han Solo. Eh... HAPPY HALLOWEEN, EVERYBODY!!! :-)