Fake blood for bloody tears: check.

Fake rose for hair: check.

Fake eyelashes for no reason other than they make any costume better: check.

Frilly white dress found in children's section of thrift store, most likely used as First Communion dress for portly 12-year-old girl: check.

I am prepared to conquer Halloween once again.

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Here is a scary story: yesterday I was in Chinatown buying shoes for my costume. Sitting outside Wonder Bakery, sipping oolong tea and eating a really good cream puff, I saw three college-age guys in trucker hats and fake vintage t-shirts standing in the middle of the plaza. One of the guys was taking a picture of the other two, who were using their fingers to stretch out the corners of their eyes.

You know, like the kids used to do in elementary school. Like I used to do in elementary school, until my dad saw me do it and exploded with rage and I realized I had been making fun of myself all along.

I'm sure those guys thought it was funny because it was ironic, just like their hats, like their t-shirts. They aren't truckers! They aren't "Homework Champions of East Elementary"! They aren't racist!

I wonder if the old Chinese men sitting around the plaza -- men who have lived through anti-Chinese immigration laws, through WWII-era pamphlets detailing the differences between Chinese and Japanese faces, through antimiscegenation laws that weren't completely repealed until 1967 -- I wonder if they got the joke.

(And no, I didn't stand up, march across the plaza and call those guys on it. That's the part that scares me the most.)