Seven Halloween Things About Me

Seven Halloween Things About Me

I was tagged by Christa M. and asked to come up with seven things about myself. I’m changing the rules a little and making them seven Halloween things about me in honor of the season.

  1. Rhymes With Witch 2003
  2. I turn into a pumpkin before midnight 2006
  3. I was once the letter “C” for Halloween.  It was my ode to Sesame Street and allowed me to wear a cute skirt;
  4. I ripped a large chunk of skin off my face one year while removing a fake wart I’d applied with skin glue or cement or whatever they call it;
  5. I really enjoyed going to the Halloween extravaganza held at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine when I lived in NYC;
  6. My pan de muerto always comes out looking like a pretzel; and
  7. Sweet Tarts are my favorite Halloween candy.

I won’t tag anyone in return, but would be interested in others’ Halloween factoids.

Estamos Bien

Estamos Bien

Thanks to all of those who have checked in on us over the past few days.  We are fine and comfortably away from the fires.  The cars are a little ashy and our lungs burn a little, but otherwise we’re home and ok.

Oddly enough, despite our location generally away from the fires (i.e., in the north eastern Los Angeles area and not in San Diego, Orange County, Malibu, or Riverside), today we received an e-mail from our car insurance company noting that we “live in an area affected by the fires” and setting out the phone numbers to call to file a claim.   

Better to have them care too much, than not at all.

Delusions of Grandeur

Delusions of Grandeur

I’m always amazed when I hear about people who make up elaborate stories regarding their past.  I mean, it’s hard enough keeping actual reality straight.

Today, the L.A. Times has a piece on a guy who has been charged with falsely claiming to have a Medal of Honor.  According to the L.A. Times, Xavier Alvarez, a local water district official nicknamed “Rambo” by his colleagues (why a water board needs a Rambo is apparently an entirely different issue), told the following stories:

  • He was a 25-year veteran of the Marine Corps;
  • He rescued the U.S. ambassador during the siege of the embassy in Tehran (and that during that rescue he was shot twice, but still managed to hang from the helicopter on his way out and take the American flag off of the embassy as he left);
  • He was married to a Mexican starlet (but couldn’t be seen with her because of photographers);
  • He played ice hockey for the Detroit Red Wings (but only at a minor league level); and
  • He was a police officer for a local city (only to be dismissed for using excessive force).

My favorite part of the story, he was tripped up by a female former Marine.  Alvarez started spewing his made-up military past and the woman started asking him questions.  Although initially impressed, the woman became suspicious and called the FBI.  Alvarez initially told the FBI everything he told her was a lie because she was annoying him and he wanted to “hold her off.”  Ok, except for the FBI found a tape of himself telling the lie about being a Marine and getting a Medal of Honor on tape in July.

What Are You Talking About?

What Are You Talking About?

My niece is three and her favorite question of late is “What are you talking about?”  Knowing that the question isn’t going away anytime soon, my sister has taught the kid how to add “Willis” to the end of the query.

She’s awaiting the call from the daycare center any day now.

I knew watching too much tv in the 70s and 80s would come in useful someday.

You’re Kidding, Right?

You’re Kidding, Right?

Driving home from work today, I saw this billboard off of Huntington Drive just inside El Sereno. 
P2

I did a double take. 

The text made it look like an ad for a horror film, but I wondered whether the letter P and the number 2 were really boldly emblazoned 10-feet up. Did that mean this was actually advertising a movie titled “P2”? Or was this a joke–like some kind of psychologically-twisted ad for a nutritional supplement?

You see, in Spanish, “P2” translates literally to “pe-dos.”  That means gas–the kind that comes from humans, not the kind cars use.

Sadly, after some research I found out that the movie’s name is actually “P2.”

This is what happens when you don’t have any Spanish-speakers working anywhere near where movies get made and marketed.

Good job, Hollywood. Keep up the good work and continue to advertise for flatulence in predominantly Latino neighborhoods.