The one where I sleep in a stranger’s kitchen

I know what you, my loyal blog readers (humor me here) are thinking as you read this title.

You’re probably making this face, like Lauren. You might even want to shoot me with her gun. Or a real one.

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But I assure you, it’s not as bad as it sounds. I think. Let’s go back to Saturday for a recap of events leading up to the strangest sleeping arrangement I think I’ve ever encountered.

Saturday was a really great day. I didn’t wake up early to go running because my back hurt. I slept in for the first time in forever. I gave Rocket a bath.

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I went shopping. I ate Moe’s.

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Then I went costume shopping.

Tom invited me to go to a Halloween party with him on Saturday night. I’m pretty sure he did this just because he knows I hate Halloween. More specifically, I hate Halloween costumes. I would explain my boycott, but everyone I explain it to tells me it doesn’t make sense, so I’m going to leave it out. Just know that I never dress up for Halloween and I certainly don’t go out in celebration of it. However, I decided to act like an adult this year. So on Saturday morning I went off in search of a non-skanky costume.

Note: I know how ridiculous I look in all of these pictures. Go with it.

Option 1: Eskimo girl

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Option 2: Peacock something

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Option 3: Kimono

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Option 4: Honey badger. If you haven’t watched that video, you better click the link RIGHT NOW. This idea was stolen from my coworker, who had a much more elaborate scheme. Mine doesn’t look like a honey badger. Just looks like I’m wearing a shirt that says Honey Badger.

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Option 5 was a swamp person. I didn’t end up taking a picture of this, but I should have. Basically it was just me wearing a lot of camo, and I realized I just looked like a person from Elgin and people might get confused.

After great debate and discussion, I decided not to wear a costume. It was way too cold. I just wore normal clothes, but a little bit like I was going to Antarctica. Halloween should be in the summer if society expects people to wear skanky costumes. I’m just saying.

The party was really fun. We watched the Gamecocks win (yay!), Clemson lose (yay!), and there was an outside fire. People here make fun of me, but I think outside fires are very exciting (note: apparently the appropriate term is “bonfire”). We don’t have a lot of “bonfires” in Florida because the Everglades get set on fire every 5 minutes, so you aren’t allowed. Therefore, I think outside fires are quite a novelty.

I wish I had taken pictures at this party, because there was randomly really awesome party food for some reason. We’re talking mini quiche, fried pickles, buffalo chicken dip, and those Hillshire Farms Lil Smokies things that the guy from Home Improvement used to sell. No, not that guy. The one with the beard. Al.

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I didn’t drink that much. I was incredibly well behaved. I was sober. I could have driven home! We went and got sandwiches at 4 am. I chatted. I bonded. I didn’t embarass myself AT ALL.

So how did I wind up sleeping in a stranger’s kitchen?

To be honest, I don’t really know. The house we were at had a sofa in the kitchen. Strange, but I’m told the reason for this is because it gives people a place to sit and you can still fit a beer pong table in the room without moving anything.

I’ll let you guess what gender the residents of the house are.

After the sandwiches were purchased and consumed, I was ready to go home. I was informed that this was a very bad idea because it was a) very late b) I was drunk (I WAS NOT) and c) how many opportunities would I have to sleep in a kitchen in the future? Touche. So there I slept, North Face, jeans, and all, in a stranger’s kitchen (he gets offended that I keep calling him that), with strangers, in a totally innocent and entirely bizarre turn of events.

Best Halloween ever? I think yes.

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