Not In Kansas Anymore...

Click your heels, and see if home is where you hang your hat, or somewhere else inside yourself as this simple, postmodern girl takes on L.A.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

What exactly IS it about candy corn? Every year, I get so damned excited when I see it on the shelf. Is it childhood memories? Is it *the* defnitive smell of the season? I can't be sure, but every year I buy some, and every year, I end up regretting it.

The thing is, I realize that it really IS the crappiest of candies once I've had a few niblets; it's nothing, really, but wax and sugar and food coloring, right? Right. But then I am compelled, by some unknown force to eat more of it. Whereupon by about a handful into the bag, I come to the conclusion that I am already sick of it ( or sick from it), and unsure about what to do with the rest. This usually leaves me with a "bleh" feeling from even that much and about a half a ton of the stuff left hanging around.

Although I've noticed that if I take it anywhere, say, work, or to a meeting, everyone else has the same reaction: "OH! Candy corn! Oh, I love candy corn!" and little by little ( a handful at a time, just like me) it disappears. The desire not to reappear again untill next year.

What gives? Are they putting time-release crack in there, or what? And why do I still find it gut-bustingly hilarious to put two pieces on my front canine teeth and pretend I'm a vampire?

Maybe I need to get some kids. I'll bet that "look I'm a vampire" gig would get old in about 20 minutes, and as soon as I cleaned up just ONE mess of orange vomit, my yearly craving would be cured forever.

At least I'd hope. My teeth hurt.