An Evening with The Hallows

I have eaten so many sweet tarts that I am now vibrating on a different level. ZING! ZING!

I bought several huge bags of Halloween candy a few weeks ago at Target. Last year was our first year in our neighborhood, and I had no idea if we would get trick or treaters. I figured maybe a few would come-a-knockin' cause I knew our neighbors had kids, but I can't remember the last time I lived some place where children knocked on your door begging for candy on Halloween.

The first kid last year to show up was probably about 4 years old. He was dressed as an LAPD cop. And it wasn't like some crappy plastic mask that he got at Toys-R-Us. It was a full on LAPD outfit complete with utility belt. "I'm sorry officer, are we making too much noise?" I said, as I gave him some candy. "If nobody else shows up tonight, it was TOTALLY worth buying candy because of THAT kid,"I said to Beth after he left.

Then came the flood. Spiderman! The Flash! Hippies! Princesses! Whatever that's supposed to be! We RAN OUT OF CANDY and Vinny and Allen had to run to the store to get more. Nobody wants to get egged!!

Not this year. No sir. I bought what is commonly referred to as an "Assload" of candy, and am fully prepared for the onslaught. I've even organized it so that I can pull out the candy that I want to keep for myself, and STILL have enough for the grubby hands that ring our doorbell. Okay, our doorbell doesn't work. I was being poetic. We leave the front door open and keep an eye out for people approaching through the screen door.

This year I am going to dress up. Nothing big. Just a wig. Tonight feels like a purple wig night. You know the one. I went to several Halloween parties this weekend, and wanted to wear a pink wig I bought last year in Tokyo. However, one of the invites requested period dress from the 1800's through 1950. So I ended up as a hybrid Anime Varga Girl.

This is my friend Ryan. He is the executive producer of "Free Stuff", which means he works with a real live monkey. His costume is a "chick magnet". I'm sorry that you can't see my shoes. They are killer. I love this paragraph so far. It is full of choppy non sequitors! Sweet Tarts are good! You have to keep eating them because as soon as you stop, you feel icky. It's true!

Vinny has been in Tokyo since Thursday night so I was at these parties by myself. One of them (the one that required period dress) was in the former home of Gloria Swanson. When I was told this, my immediate thought was, "Where's the swimming pool!?"... Then I realized that was a movie. Look, I can't be expected to remember things like the difference between real life and not real life! I am very busy!!

We had a big Halloween celebration here in the E! building yesterday. Each division was assigned a conference room to decorate with a theme -and so G4's theme was Ninja Warrior. Our room had people dressed as ninjas running around - and apparently it scared a lot of the children. When I told Vinny about this he exclaimed, "Well what did you expect from G4's Halloween conference room? Our audience is 17-35 year old men! They're lucky we didn't have big tittied women on the trunks of sports cars throwing shuriken!!"

No ninja is going to stop me from making sure I get the candy I want. Two girls from the Style network were sort of torn between laughing and horrified to see me putting my full upper body into a giant bucket of candy to scoop and scoop at it. "It's been picked over!" I exclaimed, "You gots to churn it to get the good stuff to come back to the top!!" Sometimes I get tired of people reaping the benefits from my lack of shame. It's a heavy cross to bear. 40,000 Sweet Tarts later and I've completely forgotten about it. HOP HOP HOP HOP HOP!!

... and anyway, it turns out that the ninjas aren't going to stop me from getting candy. Ninjas. Just when you think they are awesome, they get awesomer.