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2002-10-30, 10:16 p.m.

I'm hot and I have make-up all over my face. And black nailpolish. I look so goth right now. I'd be able to pull it off if I was pale, instead of my tanned "red" skin. Sheesh.

Why am I dressed this way, you ask? Went to my middle school for this Halloween thing and wore my costume. It's a long, black velvet skirt with a giant slit down the front. The top is... well.. it's like a sports bra, 'cept it's looser and also made of velvet. To make it seem less ho-ish a lace black top with spiderweb designs goes over the bra thing.

It's quite cute, really. I like it.

Since I suck at makeup (I hardly ever wear lipgloss, let alone eyeliner, eyeshadow, and lipstick) I had my friend put it on for me. My friend is excellent at applying make-up. So lucky.. That guy is great at that stuff.

"Where the hell did you learn to do this stuff?" I asked as he applied liquid liner to my eyes.

"You dry being in dance with a bunch of girls. Stop moving," he replied.

"Oh. Sorry."

He had a weird costume. Dressed in the robe thingy he got while in the hostpital for surgery. Add some make-up and you've got the dude who died in the ER.

Charlie was a pimp, not surprisingly. He had the red outfit with black and white leopard print for the long collar and on the sides of the pants. He also had a matching hat and a long cane with an oversized diamond larger than the palm of his hand. He's even got a hairy chest and a cute little pimp walk. "Yo, what's up, Foxy momma?" he kept asking those who walked by.

Desmond... Oh, Desmond, Desmond, Desmond. He's a 70's man. Borrowed dad's pants ("God, these pants are tight, man!"), a striped aqua shirt and sported a large afro, which is his natural hair, by the way. How adorabubble.

Tell ya what happened in a minute (I shall add on to this entry later).

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