It’s been 10 years since I last dressed up for Halloween, but Bryan was invited this year to a costumes-required party at EastWest Studios. I thought about getting a ruffled prairie dress, fluffing up my hair and going as a character from Big Love. Or getting a shirt with chiseled abs and saying I was “The Situ-Asian.” In the end, I dressed up as a flapper (safe, I know). Bryan dressed as a surfer getting eaten by a shark (with apologies, of course, to the recent actual shark fatality). I’m glad Erika (jailbird) and Marjorie (Mad Hatter) were able to come with me, since Bryan did a lot of networking at the party. The three of us spent most of our time gawking at the crazy decorations — a maniacal doll in a bathtub spitting blood, a writhing mannequin on the floor, skeletons playing guitars. We appreciated the effort made by a Cher-lookalike (spiky black hair, fishnets and a glittery microphone), a 6-foot-tall-plus Avatar (blue body paint and braids) and a skinny David Bowie (lightning bolt on his face and gold lame shorts). But some people barely tried — one ill-fitting wig or a simply slutty outfit do not a costume make!