Monthly Archives: October 2006

This year I got my act together and bought all our Halloween candy several weeks in advance. This stands in stark contrast to my well established candy buying routine, whereby I spend my lunch hour on the 31st running out to scrounge around for the last 6 or 7 bags of reject candy left on the shelves at Target. Those of you familiar with this routine will know that this means I usually get stuck passing out a bunch of Almond Joys and those little Hershey bars with almonds in them. I know, gross.
But not this year. This year I’m all set. I went early and I went often and when I did, I tossed bag after bag of The Candy Kids Want into my cart. And then I brought it home. And then, over the next few weeks, I pretty much ate all of it. I just sat here and tried to do the math and I’m pretty sure I’ve eaten something like 750 mini twix and/or fun-sized kit-kats over the last two weeks. That’s gotta be a record!
In other news, sorry kids, the good candy’s gone. Hope you like coconut. Whoops.

I was walking to breakfast at Hells Kitchen* the other morning when I passed a familiar looking girl on the sidewalk. I work at a lot of different places, and I’m horrible with names, so I figured it was an ex-client or something. I locked her gaze and kind of half smiled, hoping to reinforce whatever impression I had made in the past with a friendly and casual sidewalk encounter in the present. After maybe two seconds, I realized that I’d never met her before and that she was, in fact, the local girl who was on this season’s Project Runway. Gah. Eyes to sidewalk. Whimper softly. I’m such a tool.
I’ve since been debating if I should formally score my sidewalk rendezvous as a local celebrity encounter and, after some thought, I’ve concluded that I will. The way I see it, it falls somewhere between running into Julie Nelson at the Galleria and being stopped at a light next to Troy Hudson and his posse in a pimped-up SUV with a massive custom T-HUD paint job. Both make your day, but you’re kind of embarrassed to admit it. Especially if you rolled down your window and gave T-HUD and his posse a big thumbs up and they responded with a wave and cranked up the T-HUD tunes for us all to enjoy. Because that would be seriously embarrassing to admit. Or not.
In reality the encounter mostly reminded me of the time I ran into my doctor at Menard’s. I was all “hey!” and smiley and stuff, right up until it hit me who he was. He was all Mr. Cool Doctor Guy and pretended he didn’t know me, which in reality is probably because he honestly didn’t know me, so I don’t hold it against him. If I had had been wearing a hospital gown and booties