There's something in the air this week that I'm just going to blame on Halloween. First the Ministry show Monday night in D.C. (yeah, I missed it but they have that song "Halloween Everyday"). Last night we had a damn fine lunar eclipse followed by the Red Sox breaking their curse and the discovery of little people (thanks to Anon L for the article). And now today I get my first invite in about four years to the Vampyre Ball.
For those of you who don't know, Vampyre culture is a weird little offshoot of Goth. Mostly its people dressing up goth and wearing fangs, pretending to "hunt" each other and "feed" off each other. Mostly a lot of play acting backed by a goth-industrial soundtrack. There are those oddballs who think they're psychic vamps, meaning they think they suck the lifeforce from people around them, and there are a small handful of people who actually get into the bloodletting thing as a fetish. There you get into the culture of feeders (those who get their jollies by giving blood) and hunters.
Anyway, several years ago I fell into this little culture for a short time. I was on the periphery mostly. It was fun and interesting, until a I met some way-too-serious people in the last category. D.C./Baltimore has always had a pretty strong underground for this sort of thing if you know where to look, and this invite is for the annual blowout in a warehouse in the middle of nowhere, Maryland. I had actually thought it died out, but then I've been out of touch with that side of things for a good while now. Not sure why I'm broadcasting this to the world, but the invite's bringing up a whole host of memories, both good and bad. It's served me well, though. A character in my novel is a crazy girl who thinks she's a vamp.
If I were more superstitious I might think it was a sign of something on All Hollow's Eve. Fortunately, I'm not. I'll still be able to sleep at night. Unless, that is, something else happens.