Happy Halloween

In lieu of participating in Company X’s annual Halloween celebration last Friday, I decided to take a “mental health” day off from work and spend an afternoon of shopping and manicures with my mom.

Rather than go to our tried and tested mani/pedi spot, my mother insisted on checking out a newly-opened nail place that she had recently discovered in search of “a better deal.”

Ignoring for a moment that my mother’s “Magic Nails Salon” was located in the city’s oldest part of town, I accepted her proposal without protest-as I am flexible like that, and she was fitting the bill; however as soon as we pulled up to the store front, I had the sinking suspicion that any money we saved on manicures would quickly be spent on necessary, post-manicure tetanus shots.

My suspicions were, unfortunately, confirmed when we pulled up to the structure where the nail salon was located. Before housing nail salons and other such shops, the building itself had probably served as a two-family home; so long ago perhaps, that by the looks of the place, some of the town’s founding settlers had probably lent a hand in its construction.

Once we entered the store, I was quickly assigned to a small man-icurist named Kevin, who silently led me to his booth, where I was instructed to remove my rings and sit down.

For a blessed while, Kevin completely ignored me, choosing instead to converse with another salon employee in Vietnamese. This discussion lasted for quite a while, with Kevin breaking from the dialog only once to exclaim, “I don’t care if your husband’s a doctor!”

Finally, he turned his attention back to me and spoke.

Kevin: Are you married?
Westchester: Noooooo….
Kevin: …….Oh my, you have short nails! No, these are no good. You want me to put tips on them?
Westchester: No, no. My nails are ok.
Kevin: (Pause) No, these are not ok. Let me put on tips. You give me three months, and I can have your nails as long as MINE!

And with that, Kevin threw down the nail file he was holding and matter-of-factly fanned out his nails for my viewing pleasure. Each tiny digit was adorned with dramatically long fingernails-whose extreme lengths were only to be out done by the longest nails that adorned his pinky fingers. Kevin’s eyes flared with pride, and I bit my lip to hold back the screams that so desperately wanted to come out.

At that point, my mother shouted over her shoulder that I was a life-long nail biter, far beyond any sort of nail-biting redemption.

Kevin slowly shook his head in sad resignation; my short nails a personal affront to the very long, very cat like nails he had worked so hard to cultivate on his own hands.

Don't mess with Texas, or Jell-O shots.

This past weekend, your own Little Miss Westchester traveled into the heart of Texas to visit old college friends Spanish Houlihan and her husband Sergeant Houlihan for a long weekend of fun and respectful conversation. Originally, Sergeant and I had intended to SURPRISE Spanish by flying me down in the morning so that I would be in their apartment by the time Spanish got home from work.

Clearly, the element of surprise was key here, so for the entire week leading up to my trip, I spent my days daydreaming about the fun ways I could reveal my presence to Spanish. In one scenario, I would hide in a large box and Sergeant would tell Spanish a package had arrived for her-then when Spanish came close to the box I would pop up with a clown nose on and goggles! In another version, the one I ultimately settled on, I would quietly hide in the back of Spanish's closet; and then, when she went to hang up her cowgirl hat, I would jump out at her with spirit fingers ablaze. In both scenarios Spanish would react first with a scream and then, once she realized it was ME standing there behind the folds of her hangers and clothes, she would dance around the room gleefully-and oh how we would laugh and laugh.

What Sergeant and I did not plan for, and what I could not have foreseen, was that Spanish had somehow known about our plans since the day after I booked my airline ticket. Spanish offered to act surprised if I wanted to hide in her closet, but I declined. Respectfully.

Over the course of the weekend Spanish, Sergeant and I ate burritos, attended Halloween parties, drank the “cerveca,” and then spent large portions of the following day sleeping OFF the effects of the cerveca and some ill-advised Jell-O shots.

I think the trip went really well despite the fact that during the first 24-hours of my trip, my luggage was lost on the flight down, the Houlihan family pet got her paw cut at the vets office requiring a stitch and medication, Sergeant’s car was towed resulting in a $100 ticket, and we were all hung over for the entire Sunday of my visit. Could this be a strange set of unfortunate coincidences, maybe? Or MORE likely, it was fate’s little way of "Trick or Treating" Spanish and I for wearing slutty Halloween costumes.

Many thanks again to Spanish and Sergeant for their warm Texan hospitality.

Kick ASS Halloween

Every year on October 31st, Americans of all ages, religions, ethnicities, sexual orientations, and genders come together on one very common ground: Halloween. Yes Halloween, albeit a fake holiday that probably originated from some Pagan celebration involving animal sacrifice, has now become an day for people to dress up in costumes and run around outside. College girls use this as an excuse to dress sluttily without judgment and children (or Trick-or-Treaters) go door to door collecting way, Way, WAY more candy than their little bodies can handle.

Traditionally during the weeks immediately following Halloween, the parents of these young Trick-or-Treaters covertly SNEAK candy from their children’s stashes until all that remains are some Smarties Candies, a few partially-wrapped Rolos, and a discarded Circus Peanut. In fact, that guaranteed candy stash may be the only reason I wouldn’t mind having kids right now; well that, and the Barbie’s….forget I said that.

Anyway, after much, MUCH consideration, I have finally decided on my Halloween costume. Have you seen the movie Kill Bill 2? If not, you won’t get this (and you should go watch that movie); if you HAVE seen the movie, then you will understand me when I say I am going as Evil Nurse Elle Driver from the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad. Not only will this costume allow for the wearing of an eye patch, but also for the carrying of a very impressive, very intimidating plastic Samari sword (and some throwing stars for extra measure). Get excited!