After taking care of that and completely swearing off late night cheese, I fell back asleep. When I woke up, I looked out the window to see the massive blizzard that for some reason was happening on October 29th. And when I mean blizzard, I mean BLIZZARD! I apparently missed the really heavy wind that I would later learned de-branched a lot of the trees I pass on the way to the subway. But the snow was falling outside with no plans of stopping until late in the night.
See, normally, I would enjoy the view, make some cocoa or soup and settle in with a nice snow themed movie like Edward Scissorhands. And while I did all that, it also occurred to me that tonight was the Saturday before Halloween, and I had a party to attend later that evening. Now this wouldn't be a problem if I was doing the normal gay/teenage girl thing and wearing revealing clothing and animal ears, because with that you can choose your shoe options and I would have just worn my Marc Jacobs galoshes. But this year, as I've mentioned, I'm going epic. And to step outside as Black Swan in my pointe shoes and soak them in freshly driven snow would ruin my shoes, my Halloween, and my chances at winning any costume contests.
I went outside to see just how bad getting around would be. That and I still needed a few last minute items for my costume that I knew could be found at Beauty 35 in midtown. Had i tnot been snowing, I probably would have explored somewhere closer, but since 34th street is a straight shot on the A, I decided to just go with what I know. When I was outside, I noticed the snow was sticking, and there was no way to not walk through it on the way to the subway. Strike one. I also noticed that as it usually is when snow happens, it was freezing outside. Strike two. And once I got downtown, I realized that on the Saturday before Halloween in the freezing cold and snow, that available cabs were hard to find. Strike three.
But I wasn't out. When I got back to my apartment I briefly considered just going the gay/teen girl way and donning my wrestling singlet again this year. It would definitely be a hit at the gay house party of two confidants I met in PTown. But no. I had spent way too much time and more money than I care to admit on this costume. I wasn't gonna let some fucking nor'easter make me leave it in the closet for another night.
So, after making some last minute additions to the costume to make it that much more perfect, and inviting some friends up to the far north part of the island to help cinch me into my costume, I strapped some Ziplock bags to my feet and the three of us headed to the train around 10PM.
The bags did a good job of stopping the snow from ruining my shoes until they ripped through. Luckily when we got out of the subway, we miraculously found a cab right away. Thank you Great Pumpkin! We got to the party and it was in full swing. Gary and Miguel's place was GORGEOUS! Like one of those apartments you see on Sex and the City or Gossip Girl or some other show that displays the richer 10% of the people of New York City, never showing you the hovels us lay people live in. Huge building on a top floor with gorgeous art and gorgeous views. And of course a fully stocked top shelf open bar with a gorgeous bartender.
While I was distracted by the sickening beauty of the apartment, the rest of the guests were distracted by the sickening beauty of my costume. Everyone agreed that I had done it to a T and that me being able to bourree en pointe was the icing on the cake.
My friends and I had great conversations with good looking and well off gays some of whom were dressed in very little. I didn't mind the view at all, but I had a sneaking suspicion that this party could go one of two ways. Way one: Everyone has a good time, gets pretty drunk and goes about the rest of their night appreciating the free buzz they got. Way two: Everyone has a good time, gets pretty drunk, and realizes that there are a bunch of good looking almost naked gays in the room and an orgy ensues. I felt myself being on the outside of both of these possibilities because I wasn't drinking and I was dressed as a ballerina. Whenever I'm in drag, sex is such the last thing in my mind, that I almost forget that I ever do it. But even so, I was hoping for way one just so I didn't have to make a quick and awkward exit.
I continued wandering around the party, posing for pictures, and getting amazing praise for my costume, my makeup, and my dancing ability. I was pretty sure that my plan had worked and that I had won Halloween again this year. At around 1:30AM I felt vindicated enough to go home. That and one of my friends I brought to the party was on his way to wasted, and I thought it best to extradite him before an orgy maybe happened. I said my goodbyes to my generous hosts,grabbed some Duane Reade bags for my feet from the kitchen, and headed downstairs.
As I was going down in the elevator, I came to the conclusion that an orgy probably was not going to happen after we left. Some ladies had shown up, and drag queens tend to take the air out of people's tires. Even ones dressed as amazingly as I was.
As we were waiting for my friend to flag down a cab outside, another party guest entered the lobby to head upstairs. The guest was Raphael Alencar. A gay porn star, and one of my favorites at that. He druggedly said we should come back upstairs. Maybe I was wrong.
As I got back into my place and took some shots of my costume with my computer, I realized it was the second open bar in a row that I had not succumbed to. And tonight there would be no cheese to wake my up at an early hour the next morning either.
Netflix/Hulu+ of the night: The Last Exorcism
Non-alcoholic drink of the night: Bedtime tea with honey
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