Halloweenola

This year, Halloween killed me. I flew to New Orleans for Leiah's bachelorette party and I died. So did the other gals on the trip.

Leiah, Magnolia, Joanna, Alison, Me, and Chala. A handful of well adjusted, employed, inspiring, normal chicks

AND THEN THEY ALL DIED. AND GOT SLACK JAW.

Leiah had a rockin' zombie bride costume made from her old wedding dress, and it felt wonderfully appropriate to give it new life at her bachelorette party. I mean, we're all made up from bits and pieces of all the experiences we've had, the good and the bad parts, and if those bits and pieces get us to make happier and better decisions, might as well embrace 'em.

Like these hangover bags wouldn't have been possible if we hadn't all had thooooosseee mornings.

Hangover bags featuring sunglasses, ear plugs, sleep masks, hair ties, eye drops, Advil, lip balm, a little V8 can and a tiny bottle of vodka, as modeled by two people formerly known as Whiskey and Vodka.

We played a bunch of fun games, like Who's Most Likely To... and Leiah/David trivia. We may have added in a drinking component and ended up playing on a car parked in the yard of our AirBNB. EXPERIENCES. THEY GIVE YOU WISDOM.

Although, they also give you kitchen club dancing and make you sing Ahhhh skeet, skeet, skeet skeet! and dance underneath Amazon-sized women. Which are Leiah's type when it comes to friends.

Thanks to Uber, we managed to get out and see the city. We went to Frenchmen Street and ate pita pizzas. And we ran into a League of Their Own, but it was all guys dressed as ladies. We bought art at an art market. We walked down streets around Frenchmen, all decorated for Halloween and illuminated by centuries-old gas lamps. New Orleans is awesome. Covered in a thin layer of booze and/or vomit (depending on how sober you are), but undeniably interesting in a good way.

Can't do Nola without Cafe DuMonde's beignets. Even if the server was an assholes.

If you look close enough, you can probably see 3 illegal things going on here. 

Apparently Leiah and Allie know how to make goblets from gum wrappers. Which were perfect for getting those disgusting Hurricanes down in small enough portions that puking wasn't worth it.

Leiah got a psychic. In true Leiah fashion, she's pretty sure the universe is telling her to quit her job. We got another take away ;)

Crawfish! Sucking heads! At Channing Tatum's restaurant! Spicy!

The big night out was Saturday, which was actually Halloween night. With its reputation for voodoo and hauntings, New Orleans is like a living Halloween backdrop. So we all summoned our inner dead, slashed up some perfectly good thrift store dresses, shellacked some makeup on our faces, doused ourselves in blood, and got zombied.

Just as we were about to head out, Joanna went to check on her truck and IT WAS GONE. Towed. From the corner. We hopped an Uber and tried to act normal at the tow company. 

Just another zombie getting her car from the impound. So normal.

We dragged our asses up and down Bourbon Street, fumbling into a bars whose names had something to do with a cat because UK, and ended up in a karaoke bar. In case you don't know her, Magnolia is a karaoke goddess. We got her on the list, rolled her little scooter through a crowd of people to get to the stage, and her and Leiah busted out a rendition of Me & Bobby McGee that made all us cowards die of jealousy.

It rained a lot, but somehow we managed to bar hop between downpours. And when it was just drizzly, it made our costumes even better. Then we used Leiah's veil to relive the trauma Shannon and I caused her as a child when we'd bring out THE GUARDS when she wouldn't do what we said. My god, we were assholes. Clever, brilliantly manipulative assholes.

One guy was dressed as Maruchan Ramen and giving out Ramen noodles as part of his costume, so after our big night out, we made some impromptu ramen with fried eggs and fried garlic on top. Exotic drunk California-inspired New Orleans-granted ramen. 

I still don't know how we managed a 3-day weekend with drinking every single day, but we did. Each morning I woke up thinking, I don't know if I can do this again, but a couple Yeungling later and my inner 22-year-old came out. Then we all went out. And we found this... a very handsome outer 22 year old.

I love that Leiah is wearing her FEYONCE shirt.

That weekend in New Orleans, celebrating Leiah and enjoying the extraordinary women she keeps close to her, was one of the best Halloween weekends I've ever had. Perhaps not the best for my organ function, but definitely good for my soul.