I love Halloween so much. It never lasts long enough for me. As soon as I put up all of our decorations it seems like it's time for them to come down again : ( Then we get to put up turkeys and autumn leaves and Indian corn so it still looks pretty. We don't east turkey, no, no, no.
I love Christopher Radko ornaments. I've got lots of those. I know it's a big commercial enterprise but I get a certain amount of pleasure from my mindless consumerism, leave me to my silly pleasures. I can only look at so many front page stories of a father shielding his little boy from Israeli gunfire, knowing the child was fatally wounded and the father shot moments after the photo had been taken, without going mad. My holiday decorating is a kind of sweet hopeful innocence I try to give my own little boy, because he'll find out how hard the world can be soon enough.
I'm reading The Cat Who Went To Paris. I love it so much. I'm also reading the Princess Diana book by PD Jephson, her equerry or private secretary, the one who resigned when she did the television interview. It's interesting and sad. Sorry I can't remember the name of the first author, sounds like a kids book, but it isn't. He's a screenwriter/producer/author and it's his true story about how he came to love a cat when he had always hated them. His cat is so extraordinary and their relationship is so special, it's really sweet.
I'm also reading Sex and the City. I never read it and am very late in coming to the show. This is probably because I'm not as tuned in to television as I could be because I have very mixed feelings about giving myself over to it. On the one hand it can be so wonderful and educational and fulfilling and then at the same time I think it can be a big time life sapping zombie machine. Scott, my partner, is about as hooked on TV as a person can be. It's really scary to see sometimes. Since he's Mr. Television I kind of rely on him to clue me in to new shows and things that might be of interest. I kept asking him about Sex and the City but he doesn't like it. Well, now I know why. I like it though.
I am soooo sensitive, I can't take the slightest drug without zooming around the ceiling. I stopped drinking cokes a little over a week ago because it was killing my bladder, (I have Interstitial Cystitis, no picnic this), and have been on codeine for my teeth. I have wanted to stop taking codeine so I switched over to massive doses of Advil yesterday. I was so groggy today that I thought I'd take an Excedrin but because of the caffeine I'm now speeding badly. Yuck, ptuey, boo.
Well I've got to get back to work on our haunted pumpkin graveyard patch, or whatever it is. Got to test the fog machines and lighting. Plus I have more flying bats to hang.
This is a fun little story I pulled off of an AOL board. Could be fake, no surprise I've turned into a net cynic.
on Monday October 30, 2000 at 03:37 AM:
this isn't a story about Los Angeles, but I know its a true story. It happened to me, that's why. I was little, really little. I was in my room past bedtime, crying my head off. For some reason, my parents didn't come up to my room to take any action what so ever. After a little while, i was staring at the door waiting for someone to come check on me, and that's when i saw it. Someone, or something, came into my room, and up to my bed. It had the head of a human, but a really mangled face. the closer to the ground, the more the body looked like raggedy old bed sheets. I know it sounds like something out of a scary story book, but i kid you not, that is what i saw. It didn't touch the ground, it just kinda floated around. Well, for some reason when i saw it, i stopped crying. It almost seemed as if it were the spirit of a mother, coming to check on her upset child. It came up to the edge of my bed, and it seemed as though it looked at me. I then got scared, in a calm way, and told it to leave. Oddly enough, it did. I have no clue what it was, but i remember that night like it was yesterday. Now I told this to someone, and they offered me this explination. I'm adopted, no one knows what happened to my mother. From what i'm told, i was abandoned at a babysitters house. No one anywhere knows anything about my past. What if the reason i was abandon is because she was killed. or commited suicide. Maybe that was my mother coming to check on her crying boy. I guess i'll never know.
Okay, I know the background is lame but isn't this a cute vintage paper devil? You could cut him out and play with him somehow. I think he'd make a cool little cut out.