Halloweenie

This is my Halloween: Eating shrimp wonton soup and listening to Ricki Lee Jones's "Circle in the Sand" and waiting for trick-or-treaters. I don't mind. I'm not big on going out on Halloween. I like all the stuff leading up to Halloween--all the spookiness, scariness, ghoulish stuff, etc. But I get freaked out going out on Halloween night. Too many drunks out there ready to plow you down in their SUVs. Too many creepy creeps creepin' around.

Last year I also stayed home and handed out candy--at my mom's house in St. Louis. But it was raining hard and not that many kids came by. Tonight I loaded up a big pink plastic bowl with Hershey's miniatures, Reese's peanut butter cups, and Kraft caramels. I got my favorites just in case we don't get a lot of trick-or-treaters. I have no idea how many kids will stop by. This is the first time I've lived in a house in L.A. in a neighborhood with a fair amount of kids. So we'll see... I was going to paint my face as a ghoul, just to freak out the kids. But I'm not up for it. Damn! I *am* getting old!

I guess the Ricki Lee Jones was the first sign of that...

Wait! Here come some kids!!!! I'm sitting on the front porch lying in wait like a freakin' pedophile. Cigarette and Jack Daniels by my side... They should do a LAW & ORDER SVU episode about me. The kids are across the street with flashlights!!!! Damn...they're going to the next house on that side of the street. I'll have to wait.

And wait I will....MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Daily Zippy Dose

I love this. Click on image to enlarge.

Ugly Betty

I stayed up far too late last night watching two episodes of UGLY BETTY on ABC's website. I also watched 30 ROCK, which is really, really funny. UGLY BETTY is really over the top, but it's so endearing, and the chick who plays Betty (America Ferrera) is so wonderful. Vanessa Williams is hilarious. I think part of the reason I like it is because I worked in publishing and can relate to many of the awful characters on that show. In the episode I watched last night, Vanessa Williams had her horrid gay-boy assistant inject Botox into her face in her office. Oh, it was sick.

The Zipper

Last night my sister and I went to a carnival at Our Mother of Good Counsel Church/School. We went on a ride called The Zipper. You get in a cage and it spins you around like crazy. I kept pissing off my sister because I was yelling, "I'm gonna puke!" over and over and over. I was seriously freaked out. I kept thinking the door to the cage was going to fling open and hurl us 70 feet down. I swear, crappy carnival rides are scarier than big amusement park rides. I really thought we were going to die on that thing.

We saw a sign that said the carnies were hiring: TRAVELING JOBS. MUST BE 18 OR OLDER. My sister suggested I apply. I know I'd get raped my first night out with that scary bunch of carnies. They all looked like crackheads, except for the guy who ran The Zipper. He looked like a West Point cadet.

When we got home we watched DONNIE DARKO (an amazing film!). Just now we finished watching FAMILY PLOT (1976), Hitchcock's final movie, starring Bruce Dern, Karen Black, Barbara Harris, and William Devane. Katherine Helmond has a bit part in it. It's hilarious.

I'm almost finished reading a novel by Andrew Holleran called GRIEF. It's also pretty wonderful.

A "Horrifying" Week

I've been very domestic lately, especially in the kitchen. The other night I made a huge vat of soup: lentils, tomatoes, spinach, carrot, celery, onion, thyme, sage, garlic, lemon juice, etc. It was amazing. That night I also made pumpkin cream cheese muffins. In a few minutes I'm going to make blueberry oatmeal muffins. I'm out of foil/paper muffin liners, so I'll have to make sure I oil the pan well. There's nothing worse than having to wash crusty muffin pans. Well, nuclear war is worse, I guess.

Later today my sister and I are going to a church carnival in Los Feliz. I'm torn about going on the rides. Seems like there's always some news story about how an 8-year-old got hurled to his death on some crappy carnival ride. I don't want to end up a statistic!

Over the past week, I've watched so many horror movies. I'm on a weird kick because it's almost Halloween. Oh! I also bought a pumpkin last night, so the kitchen will be a mess soon with my mad carving. Here are the movies I watched this week:


--THE RING (just okay, not scary except for when the crazy dead girl, Samara, climbs out of the TV set. That part made me scream)

--THE RING 2 (a little scary, not that great of a movie)

--SHAUN OF THE DEAD (I'd seen it before; it's awesome)

--DAWN OF THE DEAD (1978. It's so sick and hilarious but way too long)

--V FOR VENDETTA (amazing!!!!! highly recommended)

--A STRANGER IS WATCHING (1982. Kate Mulgrew and Rip Torn. Really stupid. There's this idiotic 10-year-old girl who never takes any action against the killer. Her character (Julie) is completely retarded. My sister and I kept yelling at her while we were watching the movie: "Call 911, you idiot!" or "The door's open! LEAVE AND GET HELP!!!!")

--WENDIGO: (2002. Only good part was the kid who plays Dewey on MALCOLM IN THE MIDDLE. Seriously, this is such a crappy film. And it had all these great reviews on the DVD box from the LA WEEKLY and THE NEW YORK TIMES. But it's a serious piece of crap.)

--STRANGERS ON A TRAIN (1951, Hitchcock. This movie was a big disappointment to me. I read the book a few weeks ago but had never seen the movie. The novel is 100 times better, much darker and it goes into the characters' heads much more. I don't know what I would have thought of this film if I hadn't read the novel. I probably would have liked it a lot more. Still, there are a couple of cool scenes in it. Farley Granger, the lead man, was so bad in this. His performance was completely stiff. Flat-out terrible.)

--28 DAYS LATER (awesome. This was my second or third time seeing it.)

I Gotta Get My Ass to Beeps

Click to enlarge:

Landslide

I'm sitting on the front porch doing some work on my laptop. For a long time it was really bright outside, then all of a sudden clouds took over the sky and it's cool and cloudy and gray now. About a minute after that happened, Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide" came on, one of the saddest songs I've ever heard. But it's kind of uplifting too. So right now I'm feeling this strange mixture of sadness and glee.

A little known fact: I love Fleetwood Mac. I actually saw them in concert in St. Louis in 1987. Scarier: I love anything by Stevie Nicks. If you knew how many times I've rocked out by myself to "Stand Back," you'd never talk to me again.

"Thunder Only Happens" is next. Here are the lyrics to "Landslide":

I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills
till the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love
Can the child within my heart rise above
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life

Well, I've been afraid of changing
'cause Ive built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too

Oh, take my love, take it down
Climb a mountain and turn around
If you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down

If you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills
Well, maybe the landslide will bring it down

***

The clouds just drifted away. It's sunny again now. Weird.

Sad

This makes me want to cry.

Saturday Light

It's Saturday morning, Shabbat, and I'm up early, sitting on the front porch drinking coffee and reading Patricia Highsmith's THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY. When I came outside, Blackie was sitting on an orange rug on the porch, but she dashed off as soon as she saw me. Now Harry's sitting there looking furtive. By the way, the book I bought on writing suspense fiction--the one by Highsmith--is just okay. It doesn't really go anywhere, but there are a few interesting, helpful bits in it. I had a funny conversation about Highsmith on Thursday with my friend Elizabeth. We were talking about how mean-looking/ugly Highsmith was as an old woman.

ELIZABETH: Did you see that picture of her on the cover of the suspense-writing book?
ME: Yeah! She looks like a mean Linda Hunt!
ELIZABETH: Well, that awful haircut and ascot would make anyone look bad.

Who, I ask, wears ascots anymore? I actually worked once with a guy who wore ascots. Back when I lived in Wisconsin. It creeped everyone out.

This week I've had some major epiphanies, mostly about how I want to live my life and how I don't want to live my life. I need to shape up in some respects, and I'm making quite a bit of progress--especially on the work front. I don't want to constantly be behind. I want to be reliable. I'm almost finished patching everything up. I'm almost all caught up workwise.

It's 59 degrees. Cloudy and just getting light outside yet. It's supposed to rain today. Today feels really good.

Buff and Buffer

Tomorrow is the day my life begins again. Well, sort of. My refurbished body will begin tomorrow. I'm going to Bally's where I'm renewing my membership after a long lapse. I only have to pay $96 for an entire year. I'm going to drag my ass to the gym at least three times a week. I don't want to end up an out-of-shape, slovenly old lady. I'm already starting to get there.

Wish me luck. I gotta find my gym shorts.

Disturbing Vintage Halloween Postcards

No commentary. I'll let them speak for themselves.

Blackie the Cat

I have a new pet. It's a cat. I'm pretty sure she's a girl. I've named her "Blackie." This cat skulks around my yard. For a long time she was hanging out in my neighbor Tyler's yard. He set up a trap to catch her because she was leaving "stuff" in his yard. He went on and on about how much he hates cats, how he wanted this cat dead, etc. He was kind of laughing when he said it, but there was a creepy seriousness in his eyes.

When I'm walking the dogs, I always see the cat at this apartment complex down the street with two other cats: a teenage black cat and a black kitten. But when Blackie comes in my yard, she's always alone. Last week my sister gave Blackie some wet dog food. We felt bad for the thing; she's really scrawny. Right now she's chowing down some wet cat food I bought for her at Whole Foods (29 cents a can. Can you believe it?). Just now she looked up at me with her bright green eyes and licked her chops. Whenever I come near her, she dashes off. But she likes me, I can tell.

I'm not a cat person by a long shot. But there's some kind of weird bond between Blackie and me. I'll take care of her. Already, after a week, she looks so much better. She likes to sleep in the garden in my front yard.

I named the cat after the protagonist in my friend Lisa Davis's amazing '40s noir novel UNDER THE MINK. Blackie Cole (née Blanche Cohen) is a tuxedo-wearin' butch who sings at a mafia-run nightclub called The Candy Box. I actually came up with the title for the book; the rest of it comes from the genius mind of Lisa. She's in her sixties, and she's honestly one of the best, warmest, dearest friends I've ever had. I miss her a lot. I really should call her.

It Was Twenty Years Ago Today...Sgt. Pepper Taught the Band to Play

Today is the 20th anniversary of my first kiss. I was a late bloomer: 16. It was with a boy named Adrian. His real name was Bruce, but he changed it to Adrian. He dressed like Robert Smith. Wore makeup and eyeliner and had shellacked black hair. A few years ago I ran into him at a book conference in NYC. He was working for the book distributor of my old publisher. I was on a panel with my boss Greg presenting our spring titles. Afterward, Adrian came up to me and said, "Angie!" He's a big fag. Completely preppy. Looked nothing like he did when we were teenagers. Back in the day, he said he was bisexual. In high school I dated several guys who said that who ended up being gay. It was a sign—a sign of my own gayness.

About a week after we kissed, I had my first kiss with a girl: Meghan. She had red hair all teased up and idolized Siouxie Sioux. Our first kiss took place at an all-ages Gene Loves Jezebel concert at a St. Louis nightclub called Mississippi Nights, not far from the Mississippi River. In a dark hallway near the bathroom. Two weeks later, on Halloween, we kissed in my mother's backyard at 1 a.m. Meghan was dressed as a banshee (because of her Siouxie & the Banshees fascination). I was dressed as a pirate, complete with eyepatch. The air was cold. My mother's garden was covered in frost and all the plants were dying. The moon was bright. She had braces.

I can't believe it all happened twenty years ago.

Self-Discipline

I think I'm finally back to being on a "normal" schedule. My shrink gave me strict orders to be in bed by midnight and get up at 8 a.m. no matter what, even if I can't fall asleep until 3 a.m. I haven't been so good about about being in bed by midnight (last night I was in bed at 1:37 a.m.), but this morning I got up at 7:47 a.m., and I've been falling asleep rather easily these past couple of weeks, and getting up fairly early. Gone are the days of my falling asleep at 5 a.m. and getting up at noon or 1 p.m. I can so easily fall into that pattern, which is a destructive one for me, since then I really don't want to work in the afternoon. Ideally, I want to work about 20 hours a week and spend the rest of the time on my writing. Ideally.

I get so much more work done in the morning. I feel much more energized when I'm out of bed by 7:30 a.m.

Although my shrink and I have discussed this for the past couple of months, this week it really hit home that most of my problems boil down to scheduling and self-discipline. As a child, I was never instilled with self-discipline. My mother worked at night. I'd never do all of my homework. I'd leave my notebooks, textbooks, and assignments at school or I'd misplace them. I was kind of a wreck that way. At my last job, I wasn't like that until the end. I was such a go-getter, always trying to prove my worth there. But then I became editor in chief, and I felt like I had nothing left to prove after the first two years of being at the "helm." Why do I always have to have something to prove?

I think it comes down to how I was as a kid. I had few, if any friends--not until 11th grade, really. I was so unpopular, picked on all the time. So in my head I always thought, "I'll show them. I'll be the smartest." And really, I was. I won all these English, language arts, and history contests. But I was never really more than a B student in high school. Sure, I got lots of A's, but those balanced out with a lot of B's, and three (four? yes, four) D's my senior year. I never even tried to get into a really great school, because I didn't think I'd be accepted. Plus, I could only really afford to go to a state college. Well, I couldn't even afford that; I've still got a ton of student loans to pay off. The weird thing is, UW-Madison is ranked much higher now than it was when I was there; it's much harder to get into. There were so many po-dunk C students there when I was in school. Now people say to me, "You went to Madison? That's a great school." It really is (and was). I miss Madison a lot. I don't know if I could ever go back to living there, though. I think I could probably spend a summer there writing. But the winters? Yikes. I remember one time it was minus-12 degrees *without* the wind chill factor. I felt the cold in my bones. It hurt!

I've already had my morning coffee, worked on a big project, and put clothes in the washer. It's such a great feeling to get up early. It really reduces my anxiety tremendously. Going to see the shrink in Beverly Hills in three hours. La-dee-daa.

Oh! One more thing: Sex is good. That's all I'm saying. Not naming names. Just sayin' sex is good.

How Can I Get Harry Gigs Like This?

If any of you have connections in the stock-photo world, let me know.

In Honor of Yom Kippur