I love Halloween. I’m not crazy for it, since forced revelry in costumes isn’t necessarily my ideal night, but I do love a good excuse to dress strangely and solicit candy (i.e., shots) from strangers. I’ve been trying to put together a good recap of all the fun, but honestly there isn’t too much to tell. The Nickname Posse got all dressed up and spooky for a night at my partner-in-crime R and her Scot H’s apartment, followed by a pit stop at a bar for the sole purpose of using its photo booth before we all went home. A somewhat casual-ish night where I managed about 83 percent on memory retention and 100 percent on regrettable decisions upon waking up the next morning, but all in all, nothing too wild.

There are, however, a few lessons I wish I’d known heading into Halloween this year:

• If you’re creating an elaborate skeleton face with dark makeup and wearing a white lace top, perhaps hold getting dressed until after the black powder all over your face and neck has settled.
• If you know the weather is going to be on the ‘aggressive’ side of windy, perhaps wear a skirt that doesn’t flip like a dolphin in a minor breeze on a good day.
• If you’re going to force an entire party to listen to the new Taylor Swift album, be prepared for both backlash from non-fans, as well as for an overexcited drunk Bane knocking you over to share the spotlight for Blank Space.
• If you’re going to take drunk photobooth pictures at Iron Horse (per ushe), don’t force yourself in the middle and then insist you do a “kiss on the cheek!” picture because you may accidentally leak skeleton paint on Barbie and Cleopatra.
• If you’re anticipating a lazy, post-party Saturday, having a full fridge will prevent you from justifying that second order of tortas and empanadas on Seamless.
• Actually just kidding, I don’t care if Gordon Ramsay prepared a meal for hungover LB, if she wants Seamless tortas, it’s gonna happen.
• And of course, the biggest lesson of the night: I look damn good in skeleton makeup.

November is already gearing up to be a wild month, but no more wild than riding a subway car with two women in homemade Ebony/Ivory angel costumes that whip your face with their wings every time the train lurches. There’s really nothing quite like autumn in New York City, after all.