Well, as of yesterday I finally was officially on LA time! Just in the nick for me to have to get dragged out of bed at 8a! Bleh.

You see, I had a doctor's appointment at 11.30a, and then we were going shopping at Century City afterwards, so if we were going to get a tree yesterday, it would have to be first thing in the goddamn morning.

So I staggered out of bed, bathed, got into the car with Mom, and drove to the tree place, which was closed. "I got up at 8a for nothing?!" I cried. "Who the hell wants to buy a Christmas tree at nine o'clock in the morning, anyhow?" "I do!" said Mom.

So we drove home and puttered, coming back at 10a, and they were open.

The strangest thing happened. Mom always wants a little Charlie Brown tree, and I always want one that brushes the sky, but oddly enough, we both fell on the same tree, beautiful, about six and a half or seven feet tall and bought it in about five minutes.

It may be the only time that we have ever bought a Christmas tree without having a huge fight in the tree lot.

Then we went to Dr. Rappaport for my nose job. No, no, not the two black eyes kind of nose job, the two black stitches kind of nose job.

You see, I have, on the side of my nose, a hole. Sort of an enlarged pore, an extremely enlarged pore. So enlarged that it kind of fills up with junk, which makes it, in truth of fact, a blackhead. But the greatest blackhead in all the land! Bow down before my blackhead, you puny mortals! Tremble! Tremble, I say!

Um, excuse me. I got carried away. Anyway, so I have had this hole in my nose for about five years, and my dermatologist at the time wanted to stitch it up, but I was about to go on some medication where I couldn't have any wounds because they wouldn't heal, so we decided to wait until the next year, and the next year he said that stitching it wouldn't work, that it would just separate, so he was going to have to take some skin from the back of my ear and do a punch graft. I said that I'd rather have the hole, thank you.

So my Mom started going to this new dermatologist, who said that he could fix it without involving my ears at all, so I decided to have it done at last.

He couldn't just stitch it, because the reason it was a hole in the first place was because there was scar tissue holding the sides open, so he actually had to scoop the hole out, creating a bigger hole, and stitch that up. I look like Frankenstein. Or like I have a spider crawling on my nose.

The funny part was when he was swabbing my nose and the gauze caught in my nose ring and it went flying through the air and came down I knew not where. We were looking for it, but assuring Dr. Rappaport that it was worth nothing and didn't matter a bit, but he seemed very concerned. Then his assistant came in, walked to the opposite side of the room, and pointed right at it. It was like a magic trick.

The actual operation took less time than the Great Nose Ring Search of 1998.

After Dr. Rappaport's, we went to Dr. Klein's.

Dr. Klein used to be my dermatologist, and he sells this great pink makeup remover stuff that Mom really loves, so I went in to see if I could scam some even though I'm no longer a patient.

I said that I hadn't been in a couple of years, but I really wanted to buy four bottles of pink stuff, and I was still in the computer, so she let me!

I walked out with my four bottles of pink stuff, feeling as though I had just robbed a bank!

Then we went to the greatest mall in all the land, Century City.

And the reason that it's the greatest mall in all the land is because it's all outside! I mean, it's still a mall, but you get the feeling that it is, instead, a little town consisting of only stores and restaurants, no houses.

Anyway, I pretty much bought everything in sight. I got some books for Mom (and one for me) and some bath stuff for Mom (and some for me) and some Christmas decorations for us (and a $50 appointment book with a real leather cover reduced to $38 for me).

I don't know why I cannot manage not to buy things for myself. I've gotten into the habit, though, when I buy things for myself that I won't be wanting to use anytime soon, of having them gift-wrapped. It's silly, I guess, but eventually I'll open it up, and I'll be surprised, because I will have forgotten exactly what was in them.

So I did actually finish my Christmas shopping, except for the fact that I still need to get a gift for John.

After Century City, we drove to the airport to have my ticket changed to a later date, and I kept pointing out these Christmas lights to Mom.

They are called Icicle Lights, and I have never seen them before, but they are seemingly all the rage in LA--they are these like foot long strands of lights, all in a string, so when you hang them from your roof, they hang down! Like icicles, get it?

Anyway, I have become obsessed with finding these lights. I cannot even bear the thought of putting up our nasty old boring lights, so we will be light-free if I can't find them. And I can't! They aren't in any stores, because every single person in the Southland have snapped them up before now.

Everyone is cutting edge but me.

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Last Updated Tues 27 December 16:01:09 1998