Night of Eyelashes, day of body

I've been messing up everything, or everything has been getting messed up for me, for the last few days: unusable circumflatulation equipment, frozen soda, meeting invitations I meant to send but didn't, failure to copy an address properly, and failure to read street signs, all within the previous three days. This all stops now, right?

I was slightly naughty and went to Eyelashes' Halloween housewarming on the Hill last night. A bit of background: Eyelashes (formerly known as A) & I dated a few times, and she's also making part of my birthday outfit. She was also the hostess of the party where I had my first gay sexual experience. Notable occurrences:

• An ex-submariner who talked the talk of a Sensitive Poly Guy, but kept getting too close (ex-submariner) and trying to give Kevin Spacey the benefit of the doubt. Eyelashes rescued me from him at one point.
• She had fabulous Day of the Dead makeup on; her dad was Mexican, so no one gets to bust her for appropriation.
• Indeed, Eyelashes seems to be about witchy stuff in general. She showed me a little altar in her bedroom, whereupon was her mother's favorite tequila, her mother's favorite weed, and her mother's ashes. Last night was the anniversary of her death. I'd met her mother because Eyelashes once brought her along on a date. I bet you've never met a date's parent that way.
• Eyelashes overdid the substance consumption a little, but still managed to be adorable. I need to do biz with her; I hope she'll be recovered enough to work a calendar later today.

Fun neurological fact: the tree pose in yoga, which involves balancing on one foot, is much easier for me once the sun is all the way up. This time of year, that means well after I get up, which is inconvenient. But what all this means is that I rely a lot on my eyes to tell me which way is up, and not my inner ears or the sprain-damaged nerves in my ankles.

Speaking of body stuff, the tendonitis in my elbow is no longer owie most of the time. I still don't know exactly how I got it even if I do have suspicions, and it's taken impressively long to heal.

planning to devour a large bird, etc.

It's now November, which means it's time to plan Thanksgiving. As far as I've been able to find out, no one is hosting a Goth Orphans' Thanksgiving dinner. That means it once again falls to me and my little lake place. How little? Its capacity is six including yours truly, so five guests.

And why would you want to come to my place?

• Nifty plates bought from the most recent Goth yard sale.
• I've actually cooked a turkey before in my life - once, last year.
• I know better than to get quite as drunk as I did last time.
• I will be totally psyched to have you.

Who's interested?