Remember Steve, my fantastic bearded and innovative boyfriend of yesteryear? He was the best. He has a fiance now, and I’m 100 years ago, so I’m 97% sure he no long reads my blog (which, PS, he made for me.) We did not work out romantically, but we always KILLED at halloween, always finding some last minute mildly creepy and inappropriate combo to go as. Why, here we are as a Little Girl on her way to Sunday School, and a Pedophile:

Please note the lollipop carefully stuck to Steve’s shirt. Another year, we were a Soccer Mom and a Little Boy Soccer Player. Yet another, I was a Cat Lady, and he was the erotic cat-man from my fantasy life. Not that I need any help being remembery about ex’s, but every Halloween, I think about Steve and how we always killed. Steve, you are certainly not reading this, but Hi, and High Five to our past selves. Tonight I’ll be going solo, as Girl on Set at TV Job which she landed after years of ignoring You and writing Plays which you were always very Understanding about  that would someday get me a TV Job which is Ironic because you wanted me to Move to LA, but I Didn’t. (I got it at Party City. It was the very last one.)