One of the reasons I love fall so much is the food. I’m extremely fond of apples and squash, and most especially pumpkins. I enjoy carving them to be sure, but I enjoy eating them just as much. If you don’t, you can probably go ahead and skip the rest of this post. Just go off somewhere and eat a bagel while reflecting on your obvious inadequacies.

This may have been a shitty October as far as layer weather is concerned, but like most Octobers it has been pretty great for pumpkin-related edibles. In the past couple of weeks I’ve had the chance to try pumpkin-flavored ice cream, frozen custard, gelato, cheesecake, bread, muffins, scones, cake, coffee, and doughnuts. There were a couple of clear winners among the lot, and a couple of things I probably wouldn’t buy again.

By far the best of the cold treats, and the most authentically pumpkin-y, was the pumpkin spice custard over at the Shake Shack. It was so smooth and delicious that Nicole and I went back this past Monday for a second helping, even though it’s late enough in the year now that it meant we ate it while shivering in the dark. (Shake Shack’s seating is all outdoors.) The Shack closes for the winter on 5 November, and I’m not even sure if they’ll still be featuring any of the October custard flavors after today, but it’s definitely worth trying the pumpkin spice if you can get your hands on it.

My next favorite was the pumpkin cheesecake Chris and I had at City Crab. Although I was full of swordfish by the time we saw the dessert menu, we split a piece anyway and were very glad we did. Think pumpkin pie, but creamier (as of course cheesecake is wont to be). The texture was perfect, too. The food at City Crab is always great anyway, so I can heartily recommend stopping by. Just save room for dessert.

The champion among the breakfasty offerings was definitely the pumpkin spice coffee cake I found at Trader Joe’s. Perfectly moist, not too rich, and with actual pumpkin flavor. Often things that are labeled “pumpkin” end up just tasting like pumpkin pie spices - nutmeg, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, etc. This was definitely the case with the pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks, the pumpkin doughnuts at Dunkin’ Donuts, and Edy’s pumpkin ice cream, among others. While I enjoy pumpkin pie spice flavor, I enjoy actual pumpkin flavor even more, so the Trader Joe’s cake was a delight.

So there you are: three pumpkin delicacies that you should absolutely seek out if you have the gourd-love as I do. As for me, Chris and I have our usual Halloween plans this evening, which will almost undoubtely include horror movies and the pumpkin soufflé hiding in our freezer.

On Saturday, Nicole and I finally got to see Morrissey for the first time. A series of show cancellations, poorly-timed travel plans, and forgetful ticket-buying had kept me from catching any of the previous shows since I moved to New York, so although I’m in the midst of another cold and felt like hell I was still glad to drag myself out of bed and down to Hammerstein.

Although I had a great time, I have to say I had no idea how fucking insane Morrissey fans in general actually are. I’ve seen a lot of shows with rough crowds and bad mosh pits - Nine Inch Nails at MSG in 2000 comes to mind - but this time I got pushed and shoved and trampled and bruised more thoroughly than I ever would have thought possible. We are, after all, talking about Morrissey. I can’t really complain too much given that at the end of the mad rush to the stage I ended up one row back from the barricade where I had a much better view than I had during the opener. Yeah, seven foot tall guy who reeked of pot and body odor, I’m talking about you.

I also ran into my friend Torchie and her boyfriend in the crowd before the opener. I hadn’t seen her in person in years, so we had a great time drinking and catching up before the show started. After that, we were sadly swept apart by a sea of frenzied Morrissey fans.

All in all, though, the show was excellent, Moz sounded great, and the setlist was almost perfect. And I got to giggle at the fight that broke out next to me over both the sweaty shirts he peeled off and tossed into the crowd. There’s already at least one video from the show up on YouTube, shot by someone a couple people to the right of me. And here’s the whole setlist, if you’re interested:

1. Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before
2. The Last Of The Famous International Playboys
3. You Have Killed Me
4. The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
5. Irish Blood, English Heart
6. I Like You
7. Jack The Ripper
8. I Just Want To See The Boy Happy
9. The National Front Disco
10. Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me
11. Why Don’t You Find Out For Yourself?
12. All You Need Is Me
13. The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores
14. Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want
15. I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris
16. Sister, I’m A Poet
17. The Loop
18. Death Of A Disco Dancer
19. Stretch Out And Wait
20. Dear God, Please Help Me
21. How Soon Is Now?
22. First Of The Gang To Die

So for as long as I can remember, October has been far and away my favorite month of the year. Generally speaking you can count on perfect weather with the correct allocation of thunderstorms, deliciously long nights, and offerings of various food items containing pumpkin. (If you haven’t already detected my fondness for all things pumpkin-flavored, an upcoming post in the next few days should eliminate any remaining uncertainty on the matter.)

It’s also no secret that I’m fond of Halloween. I understand that to a certain contingent it’s no longer fashionable to enjoy Halloween, either because it’s too closely associated with spooky kids and their striped armwarmers or because, like New Year’s Eve, it brings out the loudest, drinkingest assholes any city has to offer. But fuck all that, I’ve loved Halloween since I was a wriggly little rugrat, and I fully expect to be lobotomizing gourds and stringing orange lights around my place of dwelling until my inevitably horrifying death.

But despite all of that, I haven’t really been feeling October much this year. I’m sure the murderously sticky mid-July weather through which we suffered until just a couple of days ago had something to do with it, and it certainly looks like I’m not the only one afflicted with Halloween malaise. It’s more than a little depressing to see these precious few weeks zooming by unappreciated, but luckily the temperature has finally begun to cooperate and I’ve been making a concerted effort to enjoy it. I think this weekend I’ll have to make a point of settling in with some pumpkin ice cream and a stack of horror movies to seal the deal, but if anyone else has some suggestions for the next few days I’m all ears.

As a quick followup to my post a few days ago about free Facebook gifts that are actually ads, I thought I’d point out that today’s Facebook gift is an AXE-branded devil ducky. This is somehow even more appalling than the Wal-Mart ghost, but I’d be hard pressed to explain exactly why that is. Better to see for yourself.

And in case you missed it, here’s a Wired article on Susan Kare, the illustrator who produces the gift images for Facebook. She’s also behind the original Mac OS icons, for what it’s worth.

Our ill-fated Xbox 360 was recently ejected from the bowels of Microsoft support, about six weeks after it initially broke down. They actually sent us back a different console, which is noticeably louder than the old one but otherwise functional, at least for the time being. Filled with unreasoning glee over the prospect of actually playing through our small-but-worthy stack of 360 games at last, I even gave in and bought the astoundingly overpriced wireless adapter so that we could finally make use of Xbox Live. (Running cable to the console itself isn’t really an option given our apartment setup and Tigger’s fondness for cable-chewing.)

Setting up the console to use our network was a painfully extended process, but as we weren’t expecting anything different I’m mostly just glad we got it done without any detours through the shrieking hell-pits of phone support. Now that everything’s working, I’m pretty pleased with Live in general. I have a particular obsessive streak, such that I once bought both Pokémon Ruby and Pokémon Sapphire for the GBA, just so that my Pokédex would be more complete than Pater’s. I can already tell that Achievements are going to trigger similar behavior, but I don’t mind much - after all, I need something new to obsess over now that I have my Magical Crawdad.

Ever since I first encountered the notion of a “virtual gift” - as implemented on Facebook or Livejournal, for example - I have marveled at the sheer balls it must take to charge real money for little graphics on social network profiles. In terms of sheer breathtaking absurdity, I think gifts must rank up there with ringtones, though of course they aren’t so profitable. (Yet.)

But somehow it’s even more astonishing to me that people seem happy to give and receive free gifts which are actually advertisements. They’ve so internalized the notion that adding a little picture of a cupcake or a puppy to someone’s profile is a service which must be paid for that they will willingly present their friends with ads and consider it a privilege. I first noticed this when I saw Livejournal profiles littered with cans of Diet Pepsi Max, but what made me contemplate it this morning was logging in to Facebook and seeing that today’s new gift is a Wal-Mart Ghost. Surely it’s hard to look at that image and not find it repulsive, yet I wonder how many Facebook profiles will be sporting it tomorrow morning?

I meant to mention it earlier, but Shake Shack’s Shacktoberfest event is going on until the 14th. There are Oktoberfestive sauages and a wider selection of beer than normal, both of which I heartily recommend. I was there on Friday with Sultry Nicole and we stuffed ourselves silly while listening to their accordion player, who enthusiastically covered Johnny Cash and Kraftwerk. There were also commemorative beer steins, one of which now lives in my cabinet.

I tell people that I want to get a kitten because Tigger is lonely and would like a small cat-friend. But the real reason? It’s because kittens can eat their own paws and look adorable doing it.

This morning on my way into the subway station, I was stopped by a couple of cops who wanted to search my purse. New York has had random searches in subway stations since 2005, and this is the third time I’ve been stopped, so that wasn’t so surprising. What I did find strange, though, was that one of the police officers asked me what kind of MetroCard I had - regular or unlimited. I still have no idea why they’d want to know that. Are regular MetroCard users more likely to blow up trains? Or does my monthly subway pass make me a terrorist?

I’ve been away for a few days for my brother Isaac’s wedding, and I just got home last night. The ceremony was held in Boston’s Old North Church, and during it I read a Robert Frost poem called “The Master Speed.” A number of people at the reception asked me for a copy, so I thought I’d post it here:

No speed of wind or water rushing by
But you have speed far greater. You can climb
Back up a stream of radiance to the sky,
And back through history up the stream of time.
And you were given this swiftness, not for haste
Nor chiefly that you may go where you will,
But in the rush of everything to waste,
That you may have the power of standing still–
Off any still or moving thing you say.
Two such as you with such a master speed
Cannot be parted nor be swept away
From one another once you are agreed
That life is only life forevermore
Together wing to wing and oar to oar.