My Halloween Costume - Meet Barrett!

I am writing this after texting back and forth with my friend, who invited me to a huge party in Pilsen on the ocassion of birthdays and Halloween. As she asked me if I had any ideas for a costume, I finally remebered what I wanted to be myself. I played around with the idea of showing up in one of my cycling or soccer outfits-taking the easy way out. And as I was in the middle of pressing number 9 key for the third time, the lightbulbs lit up in my head like crazy: "I AM GOING TO BE A GRAD STUDENT FOR HALLOWEEN!!!!!"

How could I have overlooked this hardworking yet underappreciated (not to mention underpaid) segment of our population, when selecting my Halloween persona? I say persona because it is more about showcasing one's acting skills rather than just wearing a costume. After all, most of my friends are grad students and I should be able to pull it off easily. This is my tribute to them, with all their genius and tiny imperfections.

In order to look most recognizable I will wear a pair of Camel infused Levi's jeans (5XX), a gray 50/50 blend stretched out turtleneck (Old Navy), brown cord double breasted jacket with elbow patches (vintage), my black plastic frame glasses, big maroon acrylic scarf (my mom's back to knitting project gone wrong) tied into a loose knot, an optional wool hat or a fedora, all bottomed out with some black Converse All Star shoes. But enough about the clothes.

I will arrive to the party 90 minutes late blaming the CTA, and bring an opened 12 pack Old Style carton (containing 5 Old Styles, 3 PBRs, and two random Goose Island brews - let's say Honker's and 312). I can totally see the chain of events to follow.
I will politely blow off the first 2 people I see on the account of their wearing the high school cheerleader and football player costumes respectively. I didn't hang out with this type of crowd back in the 11th grade, why the fuck would I want to shmooze with them now? They probably didn't even make the squad or the varsity team if they dressed up as such for Halloween. Plus, they will probably ask me what my costume was, and if they can't read through my elbow patches, they're still reading at the high school level. I will proceed to the kitchen where I will store away my beers and survey the scene. I will then be impolitely blown off by 2 ladies dressed as nurses on the account of my scarf and looking nothing like the Dr. McDreamy they're after. The nurses don't like my sense of humor anyway, just read my At the Doctor's post. After an akward 5 minute period of standing by myself enjoying someone else's Belgian beer (perhaps another grad student's who'd spent his study abroad days in Brussells or has now gotten a first teaching job at the junior college and can afford to share with all his awesome taste in beer - acquired at the many post academic conference drinking outings at the Hopleaf), I will spot a cute hipster chick in skinny jeans and a classic blue Sonic Youth t-shirt. We will get into a conversation and I will try to impress her with my knowledge of random indie bands, all of whom I had seen listed on my neighborhood record shop's display board and listened to on myspace. My sporadic and uninvited glances at her overflowing washing machine will piss her off and I will get nowhere. After swiping another smooth Belgian, I will go onto the porch and encounter a couple smoking. "They have to be grad students!" I'll say to myself. And they will be. We will immediately bond over the fact that we've all been turned down for Fulbright's 3 times, that we can live on lentil soup and falafel sandwiches for a whole semester, and that it's so fucking hard to get any grants for the type of enlightening studies we are doing. Our conversation will last some good 45 minutes, in which time I will explain to him (a poli sci major) origins of the conflict in the Balkans, that Milosevic is not spelled Milosowicz, and listen to her ramblings about the time spent in Morocco's Atlas mountains studying Berber tribal culture. The exchange will end when I get invited to a Socialist conference, as I draw the line at the Kucinich type of leftism.

The rest of the night, I will get into a several boring conversations with already drunk people, all of which I will end with the favorite excuse that always works like a charm: " Oh yeah, I have to go home and grade some midterms, I am so behind with everything."

And there you have it. An uneventful fictional Halloween in a pretty uneventful life of a fictional grad student. I guess I'll have to give him a name. Let's call him Ga...Barrett.