My All Soul’s Day here in Los Angeles was nice and quiet. I watched the last two episodes of Mad Men (finally!) and then some BBC goodness. I left my sanctuary only once to run off to a Golden Spoon for some frozen yogurt. When I arrived, I could see certain characters enjoying their just desserts–an Indian and her Chinese-dressed companion, a panda bear and her human boyfried and etc. The woman in line in front of me, who was dressed as nothing but herself, showed her true colors by ordering exactly what she wanted: A regular-size cup divided into thirds: heath bar, pumpkin pie and cake batter, covered in pecans. I wanted to applaud her. The way she ordered, the way she knew exactly what she wanted and the way she was so excited by the arrival of her three favorite flavors (because of the seasons), awed me. I felt as if ice cream ordering was an art and she was a master of it. In contrast, I hemmed and hawwed, tried several flavors, landed on the right combo (heath bar and pumpking pie, plain), paid, walked outside and saw a puppy! Petted the puppy, went home and continued to enjoy the wonders of the TV set.

I’ve always considered Halloween the swing holiday for California, weatherwise. Around the holiday, the weather gets moody, the days gets cooler and darker and we get wet. What do I mean? Around 3 AM, thunder awoke me. And now it’s All Saint’s Day and the California sky is gray and crying. But that’s ok. We need it.