Live Blogging Halloween

If I had a twitter feed, it would look like this....

4:30 -- Reset the lights on my garage to go on at 6:00 rather than 7:00. The damn settings on the timer are anything but user-friendly, and it involved reprogramming it fully from the start. Can’t wait till 6:00 to see if I got it right.

5:00 -- Setting out costume so I’ll be able to change into it as soon as I’m done with trick-or-treaters and head to my friend’s party.

5:15 -- Looking for nail polish to go with my costume, I spot the, er, “facial depilatory.” Realize I meant to use that this morning. Wonder how scary it would be if I answered the door with white cream on my upper lip. Give it a go, hoping that no kids come before 5:30.

5:25 -- Whew. No kids. Although I may be having an unfortunate reaction to the depilatory. Lovely. Red marks all over my upper lip. THAT’s attractive. It’ll look great at the party tonight. If I were going as a zombie. Which I’m not.

5:30 -- No kids.

5:55 -- Still no kids. I may be consuming a lot of “fun size” candies this week.

6:00 -- Garage lights on! Victory!!

6:32 -- No kids at all. Not even the little boy from across the street. If he comes, he’ll probably got a whole handful of candy.

6:37 -- Turned on porch light. Checked from window to see if it screwed up the look of the spooky things in the windows -- porch light is out. Dammit. Too late to change the bulb.

6:40 -- Eh, could probably change the bulb with light from inside the house. Get new bulb from garage.

6:41 -- Go outside to replace bulb. Bulb has broken from its base and is hanging by a thread. Sigh. Go into garage for pliers.

6:42 -- Having now mastered the correct way to use pliers to remove a broken bulb, this takes no time at all. My next-door neighbors come by to say hello, and wonder where all the kids are (as they often come in busses from other neighborhoods). They think H1N1 fears might be keeping them away.

6:42 -- Neighbors leave, bulb base removed. I go back in the house for the new bulb. Which I promptly drop and shatter on the floor.

6:43 -- Back to garage for yet another new bulb. (Note to self: Go to Costco; running low on bulbs.) Insert new bulb.

6:45 -- Back in house to vaccuum bits of broken lightbulb. Cat already had cut her paw-pad on something yesterday, I don’t need her stepping on broken glass.

6:54 -- Done with cleanup. Porch light does not affect spooky stuff in window. Ready to go. Still no kids.

6:58 -- Am watching last night’s “Numb3rs.” Enjoyed the shout-out to the “Pie & Burger.” They DO have good pie.

7:07 -- Kids! Dad with a Batman, a skeleton, and a little girl dressed as a pumpkin. Too cute.

7:08 -- My cat is giving me the “WTF?” face.

7:12 -- Return of same family -- now mom (cat make-up) and another little girl. Batman and Skeleton watched from about 10 feet back; did not try to double-dip. (!)

7:47 -- More kids. May or may not have been the same skeleton; I’ve sort of lost track. But I’ve got to head off to the party, so didn’t say anything when one kid took, like, 5 candies.

7:48 -- Older kids now. One wasn’t costumed at all, but another one was in a nice chef’s outfit, carrying a lovely platter with a brain on it. Very nice work.

7:49 -- A mom with a tiny little ladybug who was too scared to even say “Trick or Treat.” (Or even “Thank you,” as her mom urged.) Sweet little thing, though.

7:50 -- Oh sure, NOW they come. Was planning to leave at 8:00 to be fashionable late to the party. Gotta eat dinner; feed the cat; and somehow put on my gypsy costume while still answering the door.

7:52 -- This last pair looked like they were eighteen? REALLY?

7:53 -- Refilled the candy bowl, as all that was left were Snickers. Note: Kids like Skittles better. (I tend to agree.)

7:55 -- Anyone seen my cat? Seriously. It’s not like her to sneak out the front door, but she’s not in her usual “the doorbell scared me” hiding place.

7:56 -- I’m used to seeing one adult with a bunch of kids -- here’s four adults with one little girl. And all of the adults have trick or treat bags!

8:01 -- Shit. Cat didn’t come out when I put out the cat food. She ALWAYS comes out when I put out the catfood. Last pair of kids were wearing signs labelled “Help the Homeless.” Tactless, maybe?

8:04 -- Damn. She’s not under any of the furniture. I’m not leaving this house till I know for sure the cat’s inside it. One of my outside motion-sensor lights is on. I hope she’s not out there.

8:07 -- I won’t freak. This is me not freaking. I know she knows more hiding places I do, but I have been opening the door an awful lot. I’ll just sit here and eat dinner and hope she shows up. Shit.

8:11 -- Four more kids. I’ve moved to the back-up bowl of candy. Still no cat.

8:16 -- Two more kids and an adult. Each kid takes one candy. The adult says, “Can I take three?” (Still no cat. The not freaking out isn’t working.)

8:24 -- More kids; more kids; no cat. I’ve got to shut down the Candy Store and get the hell out of here, but the feline hunt is still ongoing.

8:30 -- Porch light out; halloween décor put away. Closed for Business. Turned off TV so maybe I could hear the cat’s widdle bell better. “Jasmine?” “Jasmine??!!” Going to change now -- hope no damn kids come when I’m nekkid.

8:32 -- FOUND!! Kitty magically appeared while burshing teeth. Must hug her and kiss her and call her George.

I’m outta here y’all. Happy Halloween!

Feeling Grown Up

Ever since I've gotten the house, I've felt grown-up in ways I haven't before. It pretty much started before I moved in, when I'd drive by on Sunday nights just to put the trash cans out. It's a responsibility that I've never actually had before, and it's something I definitely have to do. I mean, if I miss a week, I'll have overflowing garbage for the next seven days. Nobody else is going to do it for me, and I can't just "make it up tomorrow."

Had the same feeling today when, in preparation for what may or may not be hordes of trick-or-treaters (I live in a very "holiday happy" neighborhood, so it's quite likely I'll be overrun), I went outside with a broom and actually swept up my entryway. It's been very windy of late, and the walkway to my door is sort of enclosed on three sides (well, four, if you count the skylight), so once leaves get in there, they aren't going anywhere. So, here's me with a broom, sweeping up about four dustpans full of leaves and random dirt. Because small children will be arriving soon, likely with parents in tow, and I want to make a good impression.

I don't want to say I enjoy doing chores (one look at the current state of my laundry hampers will disabuse you of that notion), but I do get a simple sort of high out of taking care of my house. Partly because it's my house, and partly because I'm doing what homeowners do.

Just a theory

I've been thinking a lot about television. Specifically, about what's on the television.

3 Law and Orders
3 CSIs
2 NCISes
Cold Case
Criminal Minds
Numb3rs
Monk
Lie to Me
The Mentalist
Castle
FlashForward
The Forgotten
24
Bones
even Psych
... and that's not even counting Cops and America's Most Wanted.

Look, I love a good police procedural as much as the next guy, but does anyone think 20 hours of these per week is a bit, well, much?

I have this theory -- it isn't a perfect theory (and it isn't a well-researched one, either) -- but I posit that there's a reason for this.

24 premiered in November 2001. And I expect the idea for that puppy had been percolating around for long before two months. But what a remarkable coincidence that shortly after terrorist attacks made everyone in America feel unsafe and uncertain, TV comes along with a freakin' Counter Terrorist Unit that is chock full of people who are able to make those hard decisions in order to get shit done. Damn. That's some good watchin' for a twitchy population.

I particularly like the idea of shows like Numb3rs and Castle, where it isn't exclusively police who are doing the crime-solving. "Yes, mathematician or novelist, you too can be part of the law enforcement effort." It's like we're all joining the same team -- and in applying our own unique talents to the problems at hand, we civilians can be just as good at crime-solving.

Think back to before 9/11. Think back to Rodney King and the riots -- and the time when we generally viewed the police with suspicion. Think about six Police Academy movies, when cops were humorously incompetent and only succeeded by accident. That sort of thing wouldn't fly now, because there's something in our collective subconscious that wants to see law enforcement be efficient and successful -- even against incredible odds.

I wonder how much longer we'll need this many shows to make us feel safe.

Four Hour Celebrity Countdown

Chatting with my mother (via cellphone) while driving home from work today (hands-free headpiece), she informs me that my horoscope was interesting today. ("Really? You read my horoscope?" Apparently, she does -- when the horoscopes are on the same page as the crossword.)

And, according to her local paper, today I am to have "an impact on the life of a celebrity."

My first thought was that I'd better drive extra carefully, because I imagine the most likely way I'll impact the life of a celebrity is doing 70 mph down the 210.

Well, I made it home with the A-List intact, leaving me with less than four hours to have an impact on a celebrity's life.

What was kinda funny about it is that my mother and I each had completely different takes on how what I do affects the lives of the rich and famous. I immediately thought "my day job," while she immediately thought "my evening job."

Yes, yes, I'm an A-student by day and a hooker by nig--

No, wait, that's not it. Lawyer by day; theatre critic by night. (Less, er, glamorous, I know.)

Now, as a theatre critic, I do, on occasion, review the work of famous people -- although, since when celebrities do stage work, they generally do it someplace other than an under 99-seat theatre in L.A., my reviews (which are written for a website, as opposed to one of the major newspapers) are not what they stay up late on opening night to read. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite pleased with my place in the L.A. theatrical community. (And, on occasion, I'll get some feedback indicating a show was improved by something I said, which generally makes me soar for about a week.) But one of my reviews impact the life of a celebrity? Not Bloody Likely.

As a lawyer, though -- I rarely blog about my work. In fact, I pretty much never blog about my work. I'm a happy little cog in the California wheels of justice (I would be a happier cog if we didn't have mandatory furloughs). But I'm also an anonymous cog; no documents ever leave the office with my signature on them (and I'm totally cool with that). I'm a part of the process of creating judicial opinions which interpret the law. Sometimes the cases that I work on impact only the specific parties to the case; at other times, the cases set forth general principles of law that are applicable statewide (or until a higher court says differently). So, could something I've worked on impact the life of a celebrity? Sure, it could.

Of course, I'll never know if it does. And they'll never know I was involved.

Coming Clean

So, I was tipped off (by our new friend Janiece) to something called Blog Share. The concept (which I think is absolutely brilliant) is that you sign up, write an anonymous post, send it to Blog Share Central, receive in return someone else's anonymous post, and post it in your blog on Blog Share Day. In other words, you're an anonymous guest blogger at someone else's blog, while someone else is an anonymous guest blogger at your blog. You get to write something that, for one reason or another, you'd like to write, but you wouldn't necessarily want it written at your blog, where folks would know it's you. Sort of like Post Secret but on a really big postcard.

I signed up immediately. There's just so much stuff I'd like to write that would fit the bill, I couldn't decide what to write and send off to Blog Share. And then, because I'm me, I actually drafted something in which I tried to change my writing style, so that I wouldn't be recognized. (As though folks who read me here are going to go off and read every Blog Share post and try to hunt me down. Well, I hope you go off and read every Blog Share post, because I read a few from the last time this was done and they really do seem delightful.) (And there's still time for you to sign up if you're inclined to participate.)

But, here's the thing. When going through all of the random things which I could send to Blog Share, I realized that I've been holding out on you fine folks. There are definitely some things which I could blog about here, but haven't done so because they're embarrassing or silly or whatever. Well, no more. In an effort to reduce my list of Possible Things to Blog Share down to something manageable, it's time to just man up and spill. So. In no particular order:

1. Sometimes I look at my cat, and I'll be amazed that this adorable little furry being is moving around without batteries. I get all "wonder of life" about her, and then I think it's curious that I don't get that way about babies.

2. My only familiarity with current popular music is what I see on Dancing with the Stars or in TV commercials. I think Kevin Rudolf's "Let it Rock" (without the guest rapper bit) is the best song in years.

3. Sometimes I'll think, "You know, that's something I'll probably want to work out with a therapist," but I've never bothered to make an appointment.

4. You can pretty much replace "therapist" with "dentist" in the above sentence, and it will also be true.

5. There is a dress in my closet that hasn't fit in years, and has little chance of ever doing so. I keep it because it is my "lucky" dress.

6. I don't believe in fate, but I don't not believe in it either.

7. I have very flimsy curtains; I'm pretty sure the postman has seen me naked on weekends.

8. I am over 40 and still lust after cute actors. I feel better about this when I lust after actors who appear age-appropriate. (I am relieved to discover Simon Baker is just a teeny bit younger than me.)

9. I do some of my best work when I am insanely pissed off. It would be bad if my boss knew this.

10. I can't think of a tenth thing, and it's driving me as crazy Monk with a box of spilled dominoes.

Today's Lesson

After spending 20 minutes downloading AOL's software onto my computer (something I'd sworn, years ago, I'd never do again) just so I'd be able to "unsend" an email which really needed to be unsent, let me share with you the wisdom acquired by this little incident:

1. Take the high road.
2. Take the high road.
3. Always, always take the high road.

Free Toothpaste?!

I use a discontinued toothbrush -- a Sonicare Intelliclean, which was the result of some sort of partnership between Philips and Crest. It uses its own special Crest toothpaste that you sorta load into the toothbrush with little toothpaste cartridges. The toothbrushes are pretty hard to find (I had to get a replacement off eBay when my first one died), but I quite like them. For a time, finding the toothpaste was also a bit of PITA, but apparently someone has started selling it again. I'm nearly out, and I saw some toothpaste on Amazon. Great! A box of replacement cartridges was $25. But a twin-pack was $35. Clearly, I want the twin-pack.

I order the twin-pack.

Today, my (standard) big-box-from-Amazon-with-something-tiny-in-it arrives via the UPS man. I open the box and find, within, a single box of toothpaste.

I write Amazon customer service. I point out that I clearly purchased a two-pack. I ask them if they'd be so kind as to send me a second pack of toothpaste.

I received a reply. The salient points (each of which appeared to be cut-and-pasted from some Manual On Customer Complaints) were:
1. Sorry you're not happy.
2. Although your order was fulfilled by Amazon, your product was actually sold by someone else, and we can't control the inventory [although both single and double-packs still appear to be for sale on Amazon]
3. Because it's toothpaste, we can't accept the return [although it's in untouched cartridges still in a factory sealed package]
and
4. We'll be crediting your account the entire $35 purchase price.

This struck me as inefficient in a whole lot of ways. Clearly, sending me a second pack of toothpaste might have been a good way to resolve this. Offering me, say, a partial refund of half the purchase price (since I got half the toothpaste) also seemed reasonable. But, no, they told me to keep the toothpaste and they'd give me back my $35.

I came online to 'blog this as remarkably inefficient from an economic point of view. I mean, sure, free toothpaste -- but if someone in customer service was actually permitted to think for himself and engage me in dialogue, we probably could have reached a solution that was happy for everyone, rather than having them write off the entire purchase as a loss.

That was my purpose. About halfway through the post, I thought, "well, since the toothpaste is mine now, I might as well open up the box."

The toothpaste expired in August.