Even though Southern California doesn't really experience "seasons" in the same way that most of the rest of the country does, the autumn time of year is always my favorite. In lucky years (not this one) temperatures fall just enough to get out sweaters and boots and coats. Starbucks brings back my absolute favorite coffee drink - salted caramel mocha! - and my birthday comes. And, best of all, it's Halloween.
This year, Halloween falls on a Saturday, and, due to the impenetrable mystery of Daylight Savings Time, ALSO happens to be the night we "fall back" and regain the hour stolen from us in the spring. So in any rational world this would be a year where kickass parties abound, stretching on into the wee hours of November, and I would even now be feverishly sewing costumes and experimenting with creepy cocktail concoctions.
And I'm sure those parties exist, somewhere. Unfortunately, that somewhere does not appear to include me. Oh, I could pay a $50 cover and go grind against costumed strangers in any number of Downtown/Hollywood/Westside bars, but that lost its appeal a few years back. I was hoping for a party thrown by a friend, where the music could still be talked over, where the light let everyone really admire each other's costumes, where we could just go and enjoy ourselves. I was so sure this party would exist, in fact, that coming to the realization it doesn't was sort of like walking into a plate-glass window.
I get it, I really do. I mean, if I could host the party, I would. But I live in an apartment with thin walls and no parking at the far edge of suburbia. Of course, now that I think about it, so does everyone else. Of good friends, I have exactly one in LA who lives in a detached house, and she rarely throws parties. And even if other people I know have been willing to risk their neighbors' wrath in the past, I can't really demand they do it again. There are spaces available to rent, but they're generally expensive, and then they demand no amplified music, or no alcohol, or a $1-million insurance policy. So, no party.
But I look forward to Halloween all year. And now... there's nothing to look forward to. Nowhere to wear a costume if I make it, no one to drink the cocktails if I make them (I mean, my husband will try, but he's got limits). So, I've decided to start this blog as a coping mechanism for my deep Halloween-induced depression. Every day in October, I'll blog something Halloweeny, either a project I'm working on, or something I intend to try, or a roundup of cool Halloween links if nothing else.
And hopefully I'll entertain someone on the internet, even if I can't entertain myself.
Happy Halloween!
