If there's such a thing as a good time to have a power outage, it's the night of a time change, since as long as you were going to reset the clocks anyway...

My power was out from 5:35 P.M. to 1:05 A.M. Saturday night/Sunday morning. After the first half hour, I left to go to beautiful downtown Burbank. Had dinner, called my home number from my cell phone, answering machine didn't pick up. Saw "Team America: World Police," called my home number from my cell phone, answering machine didn't pick up. Thought about seeing "Ray," but realized I was probably a little too tired to sit through it, browsed around Barnes & Noble instead until they were about to close. Then I went home, where I listened to my iPod in the dark for a little while, and then went to bed. I woke up when the power came back on, set the time on my clock radio, and went back to sleep. Then I woke up again two hours later at about 2:00 standard time when one of the fire alarm bells in the building started ringing. Power outages always lead to fire alarms going off. It took about a half hour for the complex security guard to finally get it turned off.

There had actually been another power outage on Saturday morning while I was at work; I don't know how long it lasted, but the power had come back on at about 11:45 A.M. But things weren't quite right; there was apparently a brownout going on. My computer and TiVo seemed to have been working fine with the reduced power, but the halogen light in the living room was strangely dim, the nightlight in the bathroom wasn't lit at all, and some of the individual segments on my microwave's clock were off. At first I thought they had all been damaged by a power surge when the power had come back on, but after the second outage, they're all back to normal.

Incidentally, the backlight on an iPod makes a good emergency flashlight. My actual flashlight, it turned out, had some seriously weak batteries inside -- and I had recently gotten rid of some unused D batteries because I realized they were "best if installed by 2003." (Also, I had just sold on eBay a radio I'd had that took D batteries. I replaced it with one that took AAs.)

A computer-printed sign found on the floor in my apartment building's elevator: "Found: Rabbit! Please call with discreption (sic)," and then a phone number. (I taped the sign back up.)

Written in red pen in one of the corners was "Long ears." No, you're supposed to call with that information!

The oldies station was playing at Supercuts today, and when "Let It Be" came on, the woman cutting my hair said, "Go, John Lennon!"

I didn't have the heart to tell her how little John Lennon had to do with that particular song, especially since she was the one with the scissors.

My phone number is 818-xx5-xxxx. Earlier tonight, I got a call that showed up on my caller ID as being from 818-xx3-xxxx; i.e., the same number except for the third digit. The name showed up as "out of area," so it may have been a cell phone.

I didn't pick up because I only pick up when I recognize the name and/or number. They hung up on my answering machine, so I'll never know what was going on. Maybe some kid, bored on a Friday night, was sequentially dialing numbers identical to theirs except for one digit.

While I was at Target looking for Boo Berry, I saw a man with a guide pony. It was wearing little booties, kind of like sneakers for horses.

Thinking back on it, I'm wondering how he got to Target in the first place. Like all good assemblages of "big box" stores, this particular collection of stores is difficult to walk to. The pony was too small for him to be riding it. I'm thinking he brought it in a paratransit van, which must have been fun for everyone.

When I was living in Pittsburgh, my local Giant Eagle supermarket had Boo Berry cereal available all year, and I decided I liked its artificial blueberry taste and the fact that it turns milk a bizarre bluish-purple color.

It's not as readily available in southern California. Last year, it showed up as part of a special display at Target in October, but just now, they only had Count Chocula and Franken Berry. Ralphs didn't have any of the three, but they did have Kellogg's attempts at a Halloween cereal, which were called something like The Froot Loops Mystery Manor and The Rice Krispies Mystery Manor. That's not a cereal, that's a haunted house.

Last night, I went to a record release party/performance by a band called Earlimart. It was being held at a place on the border of Hollywood and Silverlake called El Cid, which is primarily a Spanish restaurant with a flamenco floor show. Admission was cheap, proceeds were being donated to AIDS Project Los Angeles, and free bottles of one of my favorite beers, Shiner Bock.

Now, El Cid has an indoor portion, where the concert was being held, and an outdoor bar/patio area. It was after I'd had two free beers that I realized I had to go to the bathroom, and that the bathroom was probably inside.

However, there was a line at the door to go inside. As far as I can tell, the number of people they'd let through the front door was over the maximum capacity of the indoor portion, so they'd stopped letting people inside. I asked the bouncer if I could get inside to use the men's room, but as expected, the answer was no. I didn't think many people would be leaving the inside until after Earlimart played, so I left El Cid and soon found a bar down the street with unfettered access to the facilities, where I could relieve myself.

Oh, well, even though I didn't get to see the band, I still donated to a worthy cause and got some free beer out of it. I'm reasonably sure that it's a violation of some law and/or ordinance that they were serving drinks outside, but then not providing access to a restroom. I wonder if anyone ended up peeing in the outdoor patio area, or in their pants.