We ran out of candy at 6:30, so we bought more at the store down the street. We ran out again around 7:30. A little kid dressed like Stitch took a fist full of each of the two kinds of erasers we had out...which was funny. I wore black eyeshadow and red lipstick. John wore his suit, a mascara goatee, and little horns on his forehead. He told a clerk at the Super A, where he bought our second batch of candy, that he was supposed to be a Republican. Truly...this is a dark day.

Just kidding.

Happy Halloween!

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John and I rented the new Aladdin DVD yesterday.

We watched it after It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, of course. It feels shorter every year. In fact, I'm glad they still show this one on TV (unlike the Garfield Halloween special, which was my favorite, even though I was never much of a Garfield fan overall) not because it's being "passed on" or anything, but because if I bought it and watched it without commercials it would only last, like, fifteen minutes. Anyway, it made me a little misty...like Johnny Mathis fallin' in love.

And then we watched Aladdin. When it first came out (in 1992...twelve years ago...jeez...) my family went to see it in the theater in Waverly on my birthday. And much like Brother Bear and Handy Smurf before him, I had a little crush on Aladdin. (I also had a crush on Barry Manilow for about ten minutes when I was four.) So there was an element of watching it last night that was a little like hanging out with an ex-boyfriend. Or maybe a friend I'd grown away from. It wore off pretty fast though.

And then I was left sitting there, missing toys I haven't touched in ages... Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me when I feel like I would just feel better if a could brush a doll's hair. It's like those guys who play golf to let off steam. Or drive around a track in a stripped-down BMW at break-neck speeds. Only I don't know how to play golf. And I'd probably drive into the track's grandstands or a row of DeLoreans or something.

I remember when my sister would be in school when I was still too young, I would go into her room and look at her My Child doll resting in our doll crib. She had silky black hair and a dress with little pink and yellow flowers. I wanted to touch her so bad I could taste it. But I wasn't supposed to play with her unless Amy said I could.

I had great Aladdin toys. I had action figures. I had Barbie dolls. I had it all. And now they're in a box. Next to other boxes. Filling up a room that isn't really mine anymore. In a house where I don't live now. It's enough to make a girl never want to watch Toy Story 2 again...and have to hear Jessie's song about the little girl that grew up and stopped loving her. Not that that's exactly what happened in this particular case. Because clearly. I'm way more into toys than your average grown-up. But still.

Incidentally, I got a My Child doll for my fifth birthday. She had long blond hair and yellow and white striped overalls. I named her Megan. That year, we went to the Opryland Hotel for my birthday to see the Christmas lights that are always still up on my birthday.

Check out these links...
Garfield Holiday DVD
Fiona's My Child Collection

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I saw Rachael Yamagata last night at the El Rey Theater. It was awesome. One of the best live shows I've ever seen. (Not the best...because I saw TMBG in Brooklyn and who can compete with that?)

She was totally amazing. And I was really a little surprised. If you haven't heard her music, she's got this bluesy, folksy, raspy sound that I thought might not transfer to a live show very well--especially in a standing venue and not, like, a blues café--but I was wrong. It was a really great show.

I got to meet her, too. So, my CD is signed and I hope to have pictures up soon...after I get them developed.

Her website has an audio player, so go check her out.

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It's raining. I haven't seen rain since I was in Missouri. In August. Driving in LA in the rain is like driving in the South when it's snowing...no one really handles it well, even though there's not much there. And it's much more slippery. Slush refreezes and our big ol' 4x4s slide right off the road. Here, the rain just makes the freeways oily, causing pretty much the same effect.

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John is at work, so I have the TV on to keep me company. We only get about four stations in English...so I'm watching "The A-Team." I vaguely remember watching it when I was a kid...but only vaguely. Wasn't it supposed to be funny? So far, they've had to go back to Viet Nam to find some guy's kid, who, incidentally, is being played by Tia Carrere.

Jason sent me an audio clip of the protesting going on in Nashville after he saw Michael Moore speak. As I listened to it, the A-team re-entered Viet Nam for the first time. Think: slow montage, fades in and out, depressed men in color, scared men with guns in sepia tone...and from my computer, screams and anger.

It's strange how I can be grateful for being too young to have experienced the world during the Viet Nam War...and at the same time wish I could have.

On our way home from New York, John and I listened to this show, in which the point was made that our "founding Fathers" lived in the Age of Reason and that we're now living in the Age of Propaganda. Could there be something more depressing?

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I'm watching the debate...and our president just said "internets." Plural. Al Gore's been busy a busy boy! I'm glad someone has been productive in the last four years....

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I went to a Hollywood party tonight. Oh, yes. I did. My John is so cool. He got me into a Hollywood party. It was to celebrate the premiere of the new Drew Carey show, which we sat around and watched at the surprisingly cool Hollywood Billiards on Hollywood Boulevard.

Oh, and by the way, I sat beside Jeff Davis and Chip Esten.

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I was willing to let it go that some speech/debate analyst on the local ABC station said that John Edwards' accent hurt him during his debate against the Vice President Tuesday night.

Until tonight. You know those special-interest stories that show a surfing chicken or a squirrel on skis? Tonight, on the very same A "We Hate the South" BC 7, they enlightened the West Coast on the adorable practices of rural Kentucky: Rabbit Hash, KY, is in the midst of preparations for their next mayoral election... The last mayor? Goofy, the German Shepherd. Who died. Now...I think Lulu the pig is running. Or something.

And the anchorwoman did a Southern accent.

That's fine, you know, great. Because they think we're all ignorant bigots. And I love irony.

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I had a dream last night about taking pictures. I just walked around taking "still lifes" of flowers and shreds of paper.

I applied for 25 jobs yesterday online. So far, I've gotten two emails: one was an automatic, you'll-never-hear-from-us-again response and the other said "Thank you!" and nothing else. I have no idea what that means. "Thank you! You're a moron!" "Thank you! You're perfect!" "Thank you! Now I don't have to talk to you anymore one way or the other!"



Last night, because we don't have cable and the TV only picks up about five English-speaking channels, I had PAX playing in the background so the house wouldn't seem so empty. The very first episode of "America's Funniest Home Videos" was on. Bob Saget looked like a child. And I felt like one. Why did I ever watch that show? It's the equivalent of pointing and laughing at someone who's just fallen down a flight of stairs.

Maybe I just fall down too often to feel okay with that anymore.

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My mom left today.

We've been looking through my grandmother's things. There are about seven huge boxes full of pictures waiting for me to sort. The dining room is covered in glass pieces that need to be packed in bubble wrap and sent out to other people. I have two boxes of...stuff...with my name on them.


Disneyland, July 19, 1969; My grandmother on left.

I don't know when Mom is going to come back. We went to Disneyland Saturday. Had. A. Blast. I felt like I was ten years old. John and I now have our annual passes. I can go back anytime.

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John is now employed. He started last night. He'll be working from 6PM to 2AM, Monday through Friday. I don't completely understand what he's doing, but I know he's taping together pieces of paper (print-outs of a TV show to animation paper) for animators. He's working on the new Drew Carey show, which premieres this month on the WB. Everybody watch it. So John can keep his job.

I kid, I kid.

My mom is LA now. In fact, she's sitting in the room waiting for me so we can go shopping.

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