I really don't get that into Halloween normally. I find the crafty part of Halloween preparation to be tedious -- who really has the time and/or ambition to make an outfit?
However this year I was struck with a brilliant idea and despite one quick scare of having to go to Houston for work, which I got out of doing, I was not going to miss Halloween 2007.
The best part was how little preparation is actually required to be a Rejected Bachelorette. All you need is an arsenal of make up, a generic-looking dress (sorry, M, it's a good dress but you know what I mean), and a rose. Oh and an aura of desperation (done and...done).
I decided to put a personal spin on things and compose a poem, since you know as soon as one of those girls pulls out a crumpled wad of paper and says "I have a poem" that they're on their way home. So I wrote a poem, crumpled it up and carried it around all night.
My other prop needed to be a symbol of false commitment and dashed expectations, which I found was truly captured in this one simple accessory:


I would set up my little frame and rose everywhere we went and it was interesting to see how people responded to it. Also interesting were the stray glances I got from various people who thought I was just a girl having a rough night with bad friends who didn't tell her about her chicken cutlet or make up running.
We spent the first half of the night at Cedar Street watching the Spazmatics. Which for the record I would like to state has the exact same set list as the Dave & Joe Show, minus a piano. The only difference I could tell was that people are allowed to smoke all around you, including cigars. I had to walk up to man who was blowing cigar smoke directly at our table and ask him to move. He seemed genuinely shocked, but I exchanged a few passive aggressive sentences with him until he went away. Some women came up to me and started grilling me about my costume. It was comical because at first they pretended not to watch the show, but then they got every single reference in my poem when I read it and admitted to watching it.


Meanwhile, M was a mobster and Allison, who was supposed to be Amy Winehouse but gave up when it came time to bust out the hairspray, was a cat. Which was rather appropriate as I kept calling her Cat Lady, in honor of the 22 (yes twenty two) cats I sent off to the Philippines at 0500 today. RTBD showed up as...RTBD? Either that or he was dressed up as a waiter. I'm not sure.


After significantly lowering our inhibitions, we hoofed it over to 5th Street. On the corner of 4th and Colorado I lost the group because I got distracted by people dressed up as cowboys who were on horses. Like, live horses. I spent about fifteen minutes scratching some horse named Choctaw on the shoulder. You know how some people only smoke when they drink? I only miss horses when I drink. I was trying to convince the guy that I would not be opposed to climbing up on the horse in a dress and heels and almost talked him into letting me. Then I remembered my mission and had to leave. On my way to the bar someone grabbed me and thought I had actually been on the show. This reminded me of the time I met a guy who looked like Cameron from Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and for some reason became convinced that it actually was the actor himself until I wikipediaed the actor the next day and realized that he's like 60 years old (yes I live a full life).

I got to the bar and probably the highlight of my life occurred when I got out my ID and someone at the door said "Oh I know who you are, you're that blogger girl. Yeah, Mean Rachel that's it!" Yes! Yes I am, sir! I had to force down the blogtard (thanks for that word, Random Guy Ben, I'm going to continue to use it) in me and just simply say, "Hey, thanks."

I managed to track down The Bachelor for the presentation and recitation of my poem. "I have a poem," I announced, in true Rejected Bachelorette character. I ended up reciting it to Brad as well as someone who I believe was named Jason but I can not confirm that to be a fact.

And now, available to the public for the first time, my poem.

Obligatory Creepy Poem
by Any Given Rejected Bachelorette

I came on the show to fall in love
I know it's corny but it's true.
And when I saw you were a six foot hottie
I figured, hey! I could spend my life with you.

First I showed you my special parts
Perky, soft and round.
I told you about my morals & values
And made a human pretzel on the ground.

When my webbed toes didn't charm you
I knew it was time to break the rules
In my best nanny voice I told you, "Take your pants off-
And come & join me in the pool."

You've watched me sob through dinner
Without telling me to get a shrink.
You've met my crazy mother
And learned that Aries like to drink.

We've had seven handles of tequila,
four champagne bottles of the best,
Six hours in the hot tub and
One unfortunate missing fake breast.

I told you I love your ear hair
Even though that may sound gross
And now you understand what one
Desperate woman will do to get a rose.

(c) MeanRachel.com 2007

Then we had the obligatory consolation photo, which was definitely key to the success of the costume itself.


I also ran into the Singing Banana and her beau, which may or may not have contributed to her truancy at boot camp this morning (I was smart and pre-bailed -- it seems as though showing up drunk to boot camp was a one-time feat that I will never again be able to do). I spent a lot of time feeling SB's hair and trying to determine if they were attached to her head or not.