Around this time of year, everyone wants to know, "What were you for Halloween, Ryn!?" In 2005 I was the Patch Master. That costume was a lot of fun, but a bit cumbersome. My hat didn't fit through doorways. The mask prohibited my vision, which lead me to trip over a pumpkin. And my long fingers kept getting caught in doors.

So this year I opted for something a bit more comfortable. The perfect outfit to wear for a night at the pub (just watch out for darts to the head). I was Shaun of the Dead. Okay, so I don't have the face of Simon Pegg. But from the neck down, I think I did pretty well.

Don't let the seemly simple appearance fool you. This costume still took it's fair share of work. I bought a new belt and black dress pants. The white shirt was a thrift store score, and with the help of a fabric dye marker, I've got red on me. The name tag was a former credit card, converted with a "Foree Electric" decal I recreated. And that red tie with diagonal stripes had to be shipped all the way from Hong Kong.

But the most work went into that darn cricket bat. It's apparently not so easy to find a cricket bat here in the U.S. Especially not an old weathered one. I ordered one from a sporting goods store online. But it was a light wood color, with a grey handle and decals all over it.

I scraped off the decals, and sanded off the thick lacquer. Once I was down to the bare wood, I "aged" it with a hammer. Then I stained it a darker color. Then smashed a couple zombies in the head to get some blood on it (okay, okay, so it's red latex paint). Then sealed it with a spray polyurethane. Then wrapped the handle with black grip tape. When Z-Day comes, I'll be ready.

Which one is me? Can you tell? Hint: I'm the slightly taller one.

It recently dawned on me that my senior year of high school took place in 1996 - a whole decade ago. For most people, the shocking realization might involve the 10-year high school reunion looming on the horizon. But I was more concerned with another milestone. See, it was in 1996 that I grew in my goatee for the first (and only) time.

I sported my new facial hair proudly during that summer of '96. Why? Because I could. I was a man, with the ability to grow hair out of my face! What a talent! I'll admit, my early goatee was pretty weak. A blonde mustache that was hard to see. It didn't connect to my chin hair either. And the goatee seemed to grow under my chin, more than on it.

No comments on that wave of hair on top of my head please. We can rip that to shreds in a future entry.

Confident to be a big man on campus - rather than the typical babyfaced freshman - I kept the natural chin strap in place. And I quickly became known for my "cheesy goatee." That nickname didn't discourage me though. Oh no. If sporting my goatee made people laugh or remember me, I was glad to keep it growing. And once it became my trademark (and I created this site with the familiar title) I knew I was stuck with this style.

With age comes more hair (not always in places you'd like), but for me it did mean a thicker goatee. Eventually the mustache made friends with the chin hair, resulting in a style known as the "Van Dyke." Over the years this goatee has seen its share of variations. It's been grown a few inches long. It's been stubble short. It's been engulfed by a full beard on a few occasions. And the most recent development is the inclusion of grey hairs.

But one thing remains constant. My chin has not seen the light of day in 10 years. That's quite a long time. Let's put this into perspective:

• The longest space mission lasted 1 year.
• Elvis Presley was in the army for 2 years.
• MySpace has been part of the web for 3 years.
• Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston were married 4 years.
• A gerbil has a lifespan of about 5 years.
• World War II lasted 6 years.
• The Temple of Solomon was built in 7 years.
• Three's Company was on the air for 8 years.
• King Tut ruled Egypt for 9 years.
• Ryan has had a goatee for 10 years.

Impressive, right? Well anyway, happy birthday to my goatee. It's been a good 10 years, and I'm looking forward to another 10. Let's just hope goatees remain reasonably in fashion. I don't want to be like that weird old man down the street who is still walking around with mutton chops.

I think everyone has a list of things they want to do before they die. And near the top of my list was "see Rob Zombie in concert." A few months ago I accomplished that goal. It's taken me a while to write a report of this experience, but considering today's date is the Number of the Beast, it seems appropriate.

The sold out show was held at the Nokia Theatre in Times Square. A relatively new venue, converted from a former movie theater. A nice place, if you can look beyond all the product placements for Nokia and Heineken in the lobby. There are seats in the back in case the person you go with is too tired to stand (ahem) and an open floor if you want to get close. You know where I was.

Dead center and packed like a sardine. Ah, it was fun to be part of the massive moshing organism again. You might have been able to pick me out of the crowd by the "ZOMBIE" baseball shirt I was wearing (jersey number "666", 'natch). Finally an occasion where that wardrobe choice was appropriate! I was pretty tired of being thrown out of church.

One of the openers was Lacuna Coil, a metalish rock group from Italy. They have a cool sound, of which I am now a fan. You haven't seen headbanging until you've witnessed an Italian sextet swing their long hair in perfect synchronicity. Another plus is that they have a female singer. A welcome visual (and sound) during a night of watching sweaty guys on stage.

After a theatrical intro of smoke and video projection, Rob Zombie and company stormed the stage wearing skull face masks. Hell yes. After missing a few chances to see Zombie shows, it was an impressive moment to finally see the man towering right above me.

Being that this show fell on the release date of his new album, we got to hear several of the new tracks. But Zombie made a point to "not bombard you with all new material. We're gonna play a lot of everything. Some new things, sure. Some old things, definitely. Some middle things, what the hell." Most of the hits got played, and even some White Zombie classics like "Thunder Kiss 65" and "Creature of the Wheel."

The stage setup wasn't quite the colorful spectacle of some earlier tours. But still clearly a Zombie show, with devil girls and skulls adorning the place. A towering robot stomped around with the band during "More Human Than Human" and a giant screen projected psychedelic animations and horror movie clips (everything from Frankenstein to Zombie's own The Devil's Rejects).

Rob even let a trio of colorfully dressed performers come on stage to do a dance routine to one of his songs. There was a mixed reaction from the crowd, but it was good for a laugh. Even Rob himself couldn't keep it together enough to sing all the words to that song.

Always the showman, Zombie never disappoints. My only complain is that (like his new album Educated Horses) it seemed too short. I want more. I guess I'll have to wait for a tour to swing by again.

AFTER the concert, I found out that Rob Zombie had been at the Virgin Megastore earlier that day, signing copies of his new CD. This info was right on the front page of his website, so my only excuse for missing this appearance is that I'm an idiot. I guess "personally meet Rob Zombie" gets to stay on my "list of things to do before I die" a little longer.

In case you were wondering what else Mr. Zombie is up to, it's just been announced that he'll be writing a directing a new Halloween film. Not another sequel, but "a bit of a prequel and a remake." I don't know if the original Michael Myers film needs to be remade, but I'll trust it in the hands of Zombie. He even got the blessing of original Halloween's creator John Carpenter. Zombie says, "I take that film very seriously, and I want to make it terrifying again."

If there were any concerns about the kind of friends I keep, the Easter card I just received in the mail should prove that I certainly do surround myself with some... uh... "special" people.

I'd flip through catalogues and wonder, "What kind of living room set defines me as a person?" As they the say in the movie Fight Club, when you buy furniture, you tell yourself "That's it. That's the last sofa I'm gonna need. Whatever else happens, I got that sofa problem handled."

Being the thorough person I am, I had to test my potential new sofa in every way imaginable before committing to the purchase. I sized it up with my measuring tape. I sat on the side cushions. I sat in the middle cushion. I looked underneath it. I laid down on it. I took a brief nap on it. I asked the Cute Sales Manager Chick to spoon with me on it.

I guess I was taking too long looking at this couch. The Older Sales Lady came over to say, "Don't think about it too much. It's just a couch. In a few years, you'll find a wife who will decide she hates it, and make you buy a whole new set anyway."

She had a point. I said, "I'll take it!" She replied, "You're in luck. We only have one left. We'll deliver it tomorrow!"

So I proceeded to the checkout counter to pay for my new sofa. I handed my credit card to the Confused Looking Checkout Lady. She clicked away on her keyboard, entering my order. I was asked to sign and date something. So I checked the date on my cell phone and placed it on the counter.

I was about to sign the credit card slip, when Confused Looking Checkout Lady said, "Wait, that can't be right. I charged you an extra $1,700 for delivery."

I retort, "Uh.... yea, I don't think that's right. If delivery is that much, I'd rather drag the sofa out of here on my back!"

Cute Sales Manager Chick laughed at my joke, as she dangled her wedding ring in my face... a non-verbal cue to stop asking her to cuddle on my couch.

Confused Looking Checkout Lady reversed the charge, giving me a full credit. Then she ran the card again, this time attempting to charge the correct total. But my card was rejected. Denied!

Immediately, my cell phone rang. Well, it vibrated. Vibrated loudly across the sales counter, where it had been sitting since I took it out of my pocket. Confused Looking Checkout Lady jumped and exclaimed, "That scared me!"

Good. That's what you get for trying to slip an extra $1,700 charge by me.

The caller was my credit card company's fraud department. They said, "We are calling to warn you about some suspicious activity on your account." So I explained the situation.

They reminded me, "Had this been a real case of fraud, Ryan, we just want you to know that you wouldn't be held responsible." And I was like, "Thanks bro! Nice to know you got my back."

Ten minutes later and Confused Looking Checkout Lady finally completed the sale of my couch. I headed for the exit, holding about 5 receipts worth of erroneous charges and reverse credits.

I gave Cute Sales Manager Chick one last wink, and she responded by using her wedding ring to cut glass, just to prove to me that it is, in fact, a real diamond.

Despite that ordeal, I can finally say... I got my sofa problem handled. I am close to being complete.

I like Photoshop. I like zombies. So a tutorial on how to make a freakish zombie in 11 steps is right up my alley. This corpse is nice and gritty. And it even makes use of pigeon eyes. That puts it a notch above all those seagull-eyed zombies for sure!

Anyway, when I spotted this page I thought I'd bring it to your attention as if I had made some unique discovery on the web. But then I saw it mentioned on all the big geek portals (I mean, I assume it was mentioned in those places... I don't actually go to geeky sites). And several people emailed it to me. Seems like this is one of those links making the rounds.

Which caused me to pose the question: why hasn't my Photoshop work ever drawn that much attention? I've turned myself into a zombie before. I even transplanted my face onto Gollum (click the small pics to enlarge).

Hmm, I think I know why the high traffic sites haven't linked me. I didn't show my progress in step-by-step tutorial form! That's what people like to see, right?

Reminds me of doing math problems in school, when the teacher instructed us to "show your work." We had to prove that we actually knew how to get to the final solution.

I'll keep this in mind next time I'm turning myself into a digital monster. Anyone have any thoughts on what kind of Photoshop trickery I should attempt next? Or is there anything else (besides photo manipulations) that you'd like a tutorial for?

Hopefully my loyal readers have been enjoying the longer entries I've been writing lately. These days, I want to have a little more substance to my posts. None of that single-sentence filler fluff.

But sometimes I have minor thoughts that I'm unable to expound on for a full paragraph. So for those topics, I thought it might be interesting to present them in poem form. Let's start with some haiku. Here's a recap of my week, in 5-7-5 format:

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Ryan "Ryn" Wickstrand is an artist and designer, known for his sense of humor and luminous chin hair. He is currently in the process of reinventing himself while simultaneously trying to remain exactly the same. He lives in Connecticut with his pet goat.