Life's a Bitch . . .

. . . now so am I.

I'm sorry. I cannot contain myself any longer. In 1.5 weeks, S.B. and I will be attending our first Halloween party in a coon's age. And, we're actually dressing up. Not dressing up as in nice shoes and shirt dressing up, but dressing up as in for true, purchased-over-the-Internet, Halloween costume dressing up. Because that's what the invitation says we should do. And I, for once, am just going to go with it.

So can you guess who I'm going as?

I did think about:


(The only comic book hero to ever garner a Ms. Magazine cover, complete with essay by Gloria Steinem. So, you know. She's steeped in feminist cred.)

I also considered:


'Cause she's dark and conflicted and also has the requisite on-again, off-again love affair with a super duper hero dude (yes, I am a comic book nerd – deal with it).

But then I realized that both costumes are likely to be a wee bit too chilly for a late October evening.

So I decided on Cat Woman. The Michelle Pfeiffer version, though, not the Halle Berry one. Because:

A. I do not have the ta-tas to fill out Halle's costume.

and

B. Halle's Cat Woman sucks ass. Pfeiffer's is, was, and always will be, the über coolest of them all.