Apr 282017


Basement is currently on tour with Thursday and Touche Amore and I was disappointed that there was no Pittsburgh show. But then Basement announced that they were coming here on one of their off-dates! Henry is pretty ambivalent about Basement* so I didn’t even bother asking him to go with me. I just bought a ticket for one (so sad) and told him he had to drop me off at Cattivo after work on Wednesday.

*(He didn’t go with me the first time I saw them at Altar Bar and he didn’t even stand me when I was right in front of the stage for them at Riot Fest. Henry hates British people. Pass it on.)

We got there a bit before doors opened so I told Henry to just drive around so I didn’t have to stand in line with my head down, praying no one would talk to me. So Henry drove past Cattivo and made a right.

“Hey look, that’s probably Basement’s van,” Henry said, and then, “Hey look, someone just got out.” So he turned around because I was interested in seeing who it was. It turned out to be Al, and he’s my favorite!!

He was walking down a dead end street which leads toward the river, and Henry fucking turned down the street and followed him in spite of my protests. There was literally no reason for us to be driving down there, and it was clear that we were stalking the poor guy, so he looked extremely startled when Chooch put down the window and cried, “Hi AL!!!” Like, were we about to shove a burlap sack over his head and hogtie him in our trunk? YOU NEVER CAN TELL WITH US.

“Oh, hi,” he cautiously said back to us, and then we made eye contact so I felt obligated to also say hi as I was sliding down in the front seat into the puddle of anxiety I had created on the floor.

And then Henry promptly turned the car around and drove off.

It was so embarrassing. Like when your dad drives you to school and your little brother says something dumb out  the window to the cute skater guy that you’re obsessed with, Scott Dambaugh who, what now?

Luckily, Chooch wasn’t wearing his Tuesdays with Tay shirt that features Al, because then this probably would have been just one more instance of Chooch stealing bands away from me. (NEVER FORGET: THE T-SHIRT THAT RUINED MY LIFE.)

Ugh. After that happened, I made them drop me off a block away from Cattivo so they wouldn’t have a chance to strike twice.

I was blessed to have an evening of relative invisibility. I sank into the wall and was the victim of no small talk, no sleazy accidental touching, and no drunken Yinzer rudeness whatsoever. Thank you, concert overlords.

The first band to play was Primer & Grayscale, a local band I first saw several months ago at Smiling Moose. I think they were opening the Pianos Become the Teeth show, but I am too lazy and unconcerned at the moment to fact check that. Which is why my blog is fake news. Anyhow, I fucking fell in love with these guys from the get-go and immediately started following them on Instagram and Facebook, which is actually how I found out about this show. I bought my ticket directly from them because if you don’t support local bands, you’re dead to me.

I forgot how great they are, to be honest, so hearing them the other night was like falling in love all over again. They opened with a new song and it made me catch my breath.

Please give these guys your ears for just a few moments and let their emo majesty swaddle your soul. I want them to play in my living room. LIKE RIGHT NOW. I’ll pause the Kpop that’s currently playing, just for them.

The second band was also local. Swiss Army.

They were alright and seemed to get the crowd hyped, and maybe it was just because my back was starting to hurt and I was hungry and tired, but they weren’t holding my attention. I didn’t feel all jammed up with the warm, moist feels like Primer & Grayscale had previously provided. Now I was just cold and lonely and wanting the night to hurry up and end.

Seriously though, I was “chew on my hair” hungry.

Thankfully, there were just three bands on the bill that night, and Basement started promptly at 8:45. Early shows are the best shows.


This was my third time seeing them in just over a year (remember, this is the band that threw a wrench in Henry’s original itinerary for last year’s Disney trip lol) so I felt super lucky. There’s a certain energy they exude that I was desperate to take in that night, like a sonic slap to the face to wake me up. I’ve been doing OK lately but these kinds of wake up calls are always valued.

Basement gets me every time. (Only the first part is sideways sorry lol.)

A post shared by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin) on

I quickly went from being cold and cranky to sweaty and SO FUCKING STOKED. I was still really hungry though so when I got in the car after the show and saw that Henry had a bag of pretzels, I snatched it out of his lap and ate like a hungry, hungry hippo. If concerts could curb appetites, I’d be a fucking waif.

Anyway, that was my night at Cattivo. I didn’t hate anyone and I adored 2 out of 3 bands.


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Apr 272017

Last week, I was doing my routine lunch break roaming. I generally don’t have a destination in mind, I just kind of roll with it, and if something eventful happens—cool. If not, at least I racked up some steps, amirite? Well, two days in a row I had an eventful walk. Here, let me tell you all about it. Stay for a spell, WON’T YOU.

1. The Lady In the Road

On Thursday, my free-form pavement pounding found me crossing the Rachel Carson bridge. I only know that’s the bridge I was on because there are pennants hanging all over it that say RACHEL CARSON with some broad’s face on it.

A thing to note about me is that I am VERY SCARED of bridges, but I try to cross one on foot every now and again as a psychological exercise. On windy days, I am fraught with fear. FRAUGHT. And one time I was certain the man in front of me had a bomb and I started to have blurred vision.

I made it off the bridge though in case you were wondering.

OK, back to the Rachel Carson bridge. I was on it. Everything was going as fine as it could be for someone with a crippling fear of hovering atop a disgusting river. I was almost to the end of the bridge when the man who was walking a few yards ahead of me took off into a sprint. I shrugged it off as a sudden burst of energy, but then panicked because what if he knew that the bridge was about to buckle!?

Turns out, he was running to assist a woman who was sprawled out in the middle of the road just a bit away from the end of the bridge. Several other people were gathered around, cars were pulled over, a bus too.

There was a white towel laying near her head.

I knew almost immediately that something was wrong.

In case you couldn’t figure that out.

The Alcoa building was right next to the intersection where this scene was playing out, and several people had congregated on the sidewalk. I walked up to an older woman and asked, “Was she hit by a car?” But her response to me was a screeching, “OH MY LAWD THAT WAS TURRIBLE! THAT WAS TURRIBLE! OH, I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT HAPPENED!” and then she balled up her hands, stamped her feet, and screamed, “OOOH LAWD!” and walked away from me, tears spurting from her eyes.

I clearly wasn’t getting the 411 from her, and I deduced that whatever had happened, it took place mere seconds before I came across the bridge. So by this point, numerous people were on the phone with 911, and little ol’ Erin hanging around ,with an iced lavender latte in one clammy paw, was not going to help the situation in any sense whatsoever. I lowered my head a bit and slowly walked away, and then once I got to the next block, I started crying. That poor lady! I don’t know her, or what she was doing, where she was going, but I knew that I just wanted her to be OK.

And I barely care about people, so that says a lot. I must have been struck by the gods of humanity at a weak moment, I don’t know.

By the time I made it to the next block, I could hear sirens in the distance, and my legs turned to noodles. So then I dove into an endless abyss of hypotheticals and what-ifs.

I texted my friend Debbie who works in the building right next to the accident scene and she replied to me later on to tell me that it ended up being a woman who works in her building, and that luckily she was OK – just sore and bruised.

Such a relief!

Caring is a weird feeling.

2. Bring Some Home For Daddy

I occasionally see this super disheveled yet exuberant man ambling about the ‘Burgh aimlessly, I guess the same way I do except I don’t yell uplifting platitudes at strangers or sing to myself.

Yet, anyway.

I walked past him one day about a month ago while he was looking into a store window and he was momentarily sidetracked from whatever mental mathematics he was chugging through with the aid of his fingers and an imaginary abacus.

“Oh, you have a nice day, pretty lady! Yeah, you have a nice day, now!” he sputtered jovially, and I thanked him because I’ll take compliments from anyone, NO DISCRIMINATION HERE, but I did pick up my pace a bit because…yikes.

It occurred to me that he looked really familiar, like maybe I had seen him the last time I was in the psych ward, but then I realized he looked like one of the baggers at Kuhn’s, and that is a huge feat for me to remember someone who works at Kuhn’s considering I’ve only gone there maybe 10 times in the last 16 years.

Hello, Henry-oppa does all the domestic bitch work.

I described him to Henry who admitted that he did sound familiar based on my impeccable profiling skills. But this wasn’t good enough and I set off on a mission to take his picture.

Fast forward to last Friday. A beautiful spring day, lots of activity downtown. Glenn mentioned that there was a stand in Market Square giving away tomato plants or something and I wanted one, so I stopped there first and found the stand. I just stood there for a few seconds and no one gave me anything, so I got mad and moved on to another booth where I got to try a sample of some kind of honey water. It was OK.

None of this has anything to do with the point of this story, but I felt the need to include it.

I did a huge loop around the Point and circled back onto Liberty Avenue, which is where a lot of hot messes can be found.

Just as I was approaching Planned Parenthood, I saw him. He was rummaging into a basket of chalk to help one of the protesters desecrate the sidewalk with her cheap message. I thought to myself, “Wow, a two-for-one special!” as I readied my phone.

Just as I took the picture, the man turned and looked straight at me. I mean, see for yourself:

I froze, wondering if he was going to be angry. Instead, he moved toward me quickly and put his fist up, so I was like, “Oh ok. I’ll play” and humored him with a fist bump. This was already breaking my NO HUMAN CONTACT rule, but whatever. I was in a good mood (no thanks to those motherfuckers in Market Square, denying me a tomato thing).

And then…

Oh god…

I barely have it in me to say…

The horrors….

He pulled me in, so fucking fast, into a suffocating bear hug.

It was like that Tango move. You know the one. Where the dude just yanks the broad into him.



I froze. Completely shut down. Went limp.

Obviously he smelled pretty bad, and he was so sweaty, oh my god, the dampness of his untucked shirt….

The dampness.

So much moisture on that shirt.


I began to hear the sounds of wavering sheet metal in my ears, which usually means I’m about to pass out, die, or be lifted up into space by a beam of light.

Did you know that I hate hugs? I don’t even like hugging my friends. In high school, Lisa used to chase me around and threaten me with hugs all the time. I have a picture somewhere depicting one such occasion but alas, I am not in a position to search for said picture at this precise moment in time.

But anyway – back to the wet embrace. I was still all up in those stinky pits, pinned against his soggy shirt, feeling his hot breath against the side of my head as he gushed in the voice of 1940s radio personality, “Aren’t you just a pretty little lady, bring some home for daddy.”


That gave me the strength to wrench myself out of his vice-like hold and take off down the sidewalk, past all these people staring at me like I was the crazy one for going around hugging vagabonds, and I was acutely aware of him crossing the street while singing some song about FEELING JOLLY.

Oh my fucking god, why.

Why me.

Why why why.

On my race back to work, I started thinking of all the ways this situation could have gone awry. He could have turned hostile and stabbed me or worse – he could have stolen my G-Dragon pin!

I got back to work and my hands were shaking like milk (shout out to you if you know it). My first mistake was telling Glenn what happened. He thought this was the greatest story ever told. He loved it. Every last second of it. Meanwhile, I still hadn’t regained the color to my face and was still stumbling around with the pallor of a girl who just had her soul hugged out of her.

“That guy’s going to be have good dreams tonight,” Glenn chuckled and I felt sick all over again.

My second mistake was not immediately going home and taking a shower. Instead, I spent the rest of my workday, sitting inside the sweater that had just been molested by the sweat-stippled chest wig of a sidewalk stranger.

My third mistake was also my first mistake which was TELLING GLENN, who derived great joy in asking, “Did you tell them about your new friend?” every time someone came over to my desk. The really unfortunate part was that one of those people was Wendy and if there is anyone who loves basking in a swimming pool of Erin-related schadenfreude, it’s freaking WENDY.

“Oh my god, I would have pissed myself if I had been there!” she wheezed, and then I reached into my drawer to get out more of my international candy and Glenn happily said, “Bring some home for daddy!”


When I showed Henry the picture of my hugger, he said, “It looks like it could the brother of the bagger from Kuhn’s, but it’s not the same guy. Good job, Erin.”

All that I endured to get that fucking picture, and it wasn’t even the same guy.

Fuck everyone.

(Except for that lady who got hit by the car.)

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Apr 262017

YOU GUYS. Yesterday, G-Dragon announced that he’s coming to NORTH AMERICA on his world tour this summer and I almost made Henry wreck the car.

“How old are you!?” he hissed when I couldn’t stop muttering, “G-Dragon, oh my god” over and over, ruining Chooch’s birthday.

I sent Amber2 an urgent CAPSLOCK text and she was all, “Wow, your vice is coming to America.” I knew she meant to say bias.

This morning, I just about slammed my phone into Glenn’s face to show him the announcement and he was like, “Wow. That pretty little girl is coming here.”

Because that’s what he calls GD. :(

Then Wendy came over and Amber2 asked, “Did you get a text too?” and Wendy just rolled her eyes and said yes.

“Mine ended with ‘I’M DYING’,” Amber told Wendy.

“Mine had exploding heart eyes or something,” Wendy sighed.

Then I got REALLY EMOTIONAL AT WORK which almost NEVER happens and my eyes started to water (allergies) and my face was SO FLUSHED (heatstroke?) OK fine – because OBSESSION.

The small audience around my desk was like, “Wow.”

“And we were just watching that video of him yesterday!” I cried over my shoulder to Glenn, and explained to Wendy that it was a video from a few years back, when GD was doing a fan greet where people got in a line to shake his hand.

“I didn’t see him actually shake anyone’s hands,” Glenn mumbled. “He just barely touched them.”

“Yeah, well…that’s because you didn’t watch the entire sixteen minutes, Glenn,” I spat and Wendy took that as her cue to peace out from the ridiculous dialogue.

When Todd got to work, I screamed, “TODD OMG!” and Glenn was like, “LET HIM SIT DOWN FIRST, FOR GOD’S SAKE.”

It was the talk of the town. Well, office quadrant. Well, half of the office quadrant.

Anyway, tickets haven’t gone on sale yet and I am so nervous. His Seoul concert sold out in 8 minutes. Ugh! We’re (we’re, lol) hoping to go to the Toronto show because it’s on MY BIRTHDAY. Please pray for me.

I was looking at the different VIP packages (of course there aren’t any prices available yet) and now I feel like I need the gold package but Henry said it’s probably $2000. I HAVE THINGS THAT I CAN SELL. I WILL SELL MY FUCKING RIOT FEST TICKETS WATCH ME.

(OK I don’t want to have to do that but I will because not going to Riot Fest will save us a lot of $$$ GOD WHY ISN’T HENRY A DOCTOR OR AN OIL TYCOON OR A FRENCH PORN DIRECTOR*.)

*(Mostly because that would just be cool.)

“I don’t see that hi-touch thing on here, though,” Todd said when I made him also look at the VIP packages because that’s what I do – I suck people in and make them hold my hand while I obsess over things.

“Todd, that’s for KCON,” I said exasperatedly.

“Oh yeah! That’s KCON,” he said in an “I’m so dumb” tone.

Please try to keep up with my ever-changing flights of fancy.

This is going to be my last, if not only, chance to see him before he enlists in the military and IT IS ALL I COULD EVER WANT. (Aside from all the other things I want, but this is my #1 want currently!) I will be happy if I get the very top of the balcony seat, because at least I will be in the same room as the most perfect person in the whole entire world, Korea’s National Treasure, MY BIAS.

I will end this with a video of the time GD took the fall for a girl who killed her abusive boyfriend with a pineapple. <3

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Apr 252017

Indulge me for a minute or eleven, won’t you. It’s a mother’s right to feel brooding, nostalgic, and downright panicked over the passage of time on their child’s birthday. AFTER ALL, it is all about us. 

So please don’t mind the forthcoming deluge of photos, also known as CHOOCH THRU THE YEARS. 

Happy 11th birthday to my favorite person in the whole world (fine–tied with G-Dragon)! Chooch makes life so exciting and gives me frequent stomach aches from all the laughing fits he causes. He’s scary-smart yet has just enough blond moments to keep him grounded. 

He is my best model and goes along with (most) of my dumb photo shoot ideas. He’s my favorite amusement park partner, my sometimes-concert buddy, and also my biggest frenemy. (We are way too much alike.) 

He can hold his own with a roomful of adults, and his wit is enviable. Get this kid a band to front or a show to host. 

I never thought I could ever be a mom, but I am so glad I met Henry and changed my mind. Chooch is my best creation ever and I love him so much! ❤💖🐱

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Apr 242017

My brother Ryan asked Chooch to pick somewhere he’d like to go for a birthday dinner, and I was bracing myself for the inevitable Burger King (he likes their veggie burgers) or Denny’s, but he shocked me with his off-the-cuff response of “Tillie’s.” I thought he hated that place! When he was little, he used to whine loudly that it stunk in there and we’d be like, “THAT’S THE BEAUTIFUL STENCH OF HOMEMADE SPAGHETTI SAUCE, MORON.” But I guess his palate is finally starting to mature past the age of cereal and (faux) chicken nuggets.

Before we left, I made him pose for some pre-11 birthday photos, because the glory days of 10 are waning quickly and I NEVER WANT TO FORGET HIS PRECIOUS DECADE-OLD CHEEKS.

These birthdays slaughter me, you guys. Being a mom hurts. WHERE DID MY BABY GO.

(Be prepared for a landslide of gratuitous throwbacks tomorrow on his actual birthday. Sorry in advance.)

*finger hearts*

I let him wear my G-Dragon pin because I guess I love him.

We picked up Judy on the way, and she proceeded to jut a finger at every vacant lot we drove past en route to McKeesport, informing us of whatever dance halls, bars, and diners used to be there, and how her ex-husband used to sing at some lounge that had since burnt down, which caused Henry to have lots of questions.

Not of the fire, but of the singing, I guess.

“There used to be a place I went to on the river down there,” Judy mused, staring out the passenger window as we crossed over a small bridge into McKeesport.

“The Palisades,” Henry said, causing Judy to laugh uproariously for some unknown reason and shout, “No! It was down on the river!”

“Yeah, the Palisades!” Henry argued, and Judy was nearly crying at this point, she was laughing so hard, and we had no idea why. DID SOMETHING HAPPEN TO JUDY AT THE PALISADES?!

“I forget how to do it,” said my gifted child as he handed his beaten bread across the table for Henry to finish buttering.

Dinner was so great, as usual.

“I haven’t been here in about 30 years,” my mom said at one point, inspiring me to say that I had never heard of it until my friend Heather took me there for my 19th birthday.

“I’m surprised Pappap never came here,” I said.

“No, he did,” my mom said, telling me the name of the friend he used to frequent the place with.

“Wow, your Pappap actually didn’t take you somewhere,” Henry chided. Fuck off, Henry.

Meanwhile, Chooch regaled the table with his tragic toothpick story, which made Ryan remember the time he drove one of his 80-wheeled remote control cars into my hair when I was laying on the floor (probably daydreaming of rollerskating on clouds with the Care Bears).

I don’t know how Chooch managed to eat any of his spaghetti in between gulping for air during his non-stop monologue. That kid could have a future in MCing variety shows in Korea. HE ALWAYS HAS SHIT TO SAY. ALWAYS.

Unless there is a pretty girl nearby.

I tried to get Henry to stop my brother from picking up the tab.

“Ryan’s our dongsaeng, and in Korea, dongsaengs would never be expected to pay for a meal!” I explained.

“Well, this isn’t Korea,” Henry sighed, while my mom rolled her eyes and Ryan shrugged it off as Erin being Erin.

Later on, we got some obligatory ice cream at Handel’s and managed to make it through an entire evening without arguing!

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Apr 232017

Well, I guess we’re due for another bullet-point blog post. I’ve thrown in some cat pictures too because I know how to keep my reader(s) happy….?

  • I’m not really into podcasts simply because my attention span is no bueno. I know a lot of people who can listen to them at work but I can’t even listen to music at work because I’m already just so-so at my job and I’m one of those people who can barely walk and chew gum at the same time, so….Anyway my point is that in order to listen to a podcast, I have to be not doing anything else. But I really wanted to listen to S-Town because I was a fan of Serial. I had to actually sit still for approx. 7 hours over the last week in order to take this all in, but it was worth it. I know a lot of people were disappointed with the way in panned out, but I thought it was captivating and although it left me absolutely panicked about the passing of time, I thought it was an incredibly engaging narrative and would recommend it. But if you hate it, I didn’t make it, so…

  • Chooch is too cool for selfies with mommy now I guess. We had a fight Saturday morning because he said I don’t have any friends and when I defensively whined that I have a lot of friends (a lie), he smugly retorted, “Yeah but now most of them are mine.” UGH it’s true though.  It’s his goddamn Charles Manson charisma.

  • When Chooch tried to make galaxy cupcakes and then realized the actual icing part was going to take effort so he said fuck it.

  • Our porch is so great for relaxing, and it has also provided me with a new opportunity to try my hand at parenting succulents again. For some reason, the cats don’t seem to bother my plants on the back porch (KNOCK ON WOOD) so I’ve been slowly trying to built my plant fam back up. We’ll see how long it lasts.

  • I brought in pineapple and lotus root for my work snack last week and it caused a commotion.  Not really, but todd came over to ask me a question and then said, “OK, what is that?” So I told him (he mumbled “of course it is”) and then Lauren came over because she wanted to see and then we talked about lotus root for maybe fifteen minutes. That was fun.

  • Speaking of lotus root, we got another great haul at the Asian market today. Above, please notice the photo of Henry plucking mysterious roots from a bin. “I don’t know what these are but I always see people buying them.” WE ARE FOLLOWERS. Anyway, the super jovial woman who checked us out asked if we knew what they we were and we sheepishly shook our heads. “Baby taro! Steam them, so good!” So guess what Henry’s doing tonight?! Also, I love taro so what a serendipitous Asian grocery experience. I also got some more savory snacks for work and I was able to read a bunch of Korean noodle packages so I’m FLYING HIGH ON THIS APRIL SUNDAY.
  • The Riot Fest lineup was announced last week. I’ve had my ticket since December so I wasn’t caught up in the flurry to buy tickets but I have to say, I feel kind of underwhelmed about it this year. The main bands are legit, but I’m usually so stoked for the lower-tiered bands as well and there just aren’t that many stoking my fire. BUT – Kara is going with us this time so THAT is what I’m most excited about!
  • I must really be caught on the Hallyu Wave because while everyone else is fanning themselves over the Riot Fest lineup, I’m over here watching vlogs of past KCONs, desperate to snag tickets when they go on sale next month. This world is so different from what I’m used to. I WANT TO SCORE A HI-TOUCH OPPORTUNITY FOR TWICE AND/OR CNBLUE, ahhhhhhhhh.  TT.TT

  • The only thing keeping me from crying 24:7 over the Orange Embarrasment is all the clever memes and signs I see everyday. This Pink Floyd one is the best. LOOK AT THE TINY HANDS. Henry doesn’t like this though because he thinks it’s insulting to Pink Floyd.
  • Chooch just stumbled across some of my old email addresses and is flipping out. “PoopAndPee?! Really?! You are literally so immature!” These were just my Comcast email addresses – if he ever sees the 50+ gmail addresses I’ve enmassed he’s going to put himself up for adoption. Or maybe just be full of pride.

  • I’ve been trying not to be all HI GUYS WELCOME TO MY WEIGHTLOSS JOURNEY but I today I put on this shirt that I bought when Janna and I went to see the Corpse Flower bloom at Phipps in 2013 and I accidentally bought a youth medium commemorative shirt. I was so sad when I got home and realized my mistake so I punched it into the back of my dresser and moved on with life. Today I tried it on and it fit! THANK YOU KPOPX, K-KARDIO, and MY OFF-THE-CUFF KOREAN FOOD DIET. This is the greatest I’ve felt since I was probably 20, i.e. before I started dating Henry and he turned me into a fat lard to keep me from leaving him. J/k. It was my fault (see: depression, low self worth, poor relationship with food). I’m a huge advocate for dancing to Kpop for weight loss. Come talk to me about it!

  • Ugh, yesterday Henry and I were strolling around Brookline when I picked up a rushed can of beer off the street, not only because it was Earth Day, but because FUCK LITTER every day*. Anyway, I forgot that the nearest garbage can was two blocks away so I got stuck clutching this gross can with the tips of two fingers, trying to hide it behind my back so it didn’t like I was a typical Yinzer, day-drinking on the sidewalks of Brookline. Some of it dripped on my foot and I wanted to cry, but I did this for YOU, Mother Earth.
    • Also, let it be known that before I picked it up, Henry kicked it and kept walking.
    • *When I was 13, we had a French foreign exchange student staying with us. His name was Laurent and he was 15 at the time. One day over the summer, we were going to the zoo, and he put down the passenger window in order to throw out his McDonald’s straw wrapper. From the backseat, I grabbed him by the back of the shirt and said, “I don’t know what you guys do in FRANCE, but we don’t litter in AMERICA.” (What a lie” our country is jam-packed with garbage, and it comes in people-form too.) But yeah, don’t fuck with the Overseer of Clean Streets.

  • The other day at work, I was lamenting about how I’ve never seen a ghost. “Don’t you think it’s weird that I’ve never been haunted?” I asked out loud, to everyone and no one in particular. “That’s because you’re on the haunting end,” Glenn muttered, and I will accept that as a compliment, thanks Glenn.
  • Lately, I have been trying to use Hangul hashtags so that I can make more friends on Instagram from Korea, because I have found that trying to translate Instagram captions has been a helpful supplement to my Talk to Me in Korean lessons, which are hard. But! Knowing how to read Hangul is half the battle and I get so excited when we’re watching things on Drama Fever and I recognize words. I mean, I’m not that good at English so even if I can get to the point where I can say, “I know Korean but I’m not good,” I’ll be, well, good.
  • Chooch will be 11 on Tuesday and I’m so sad. He’s more than halfway to out of the house, and lately he’s been showing an interest in CMU so I’m already panicking about that, like please get yourself a scholarship, boy.

I’ll end with a picture of Drew in a basket. Later this week, please look forward to a post about Chooch’s birthday dinner and more Lunchbreak Tales. Possibly an office candy review, as well. I know. How will you sleep tonight.

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Apr 222017

I had my eye on a beautiful G-Dragon enamel pin on Etsy for the last several months. If there is one thing about me that usually surprises people, it’s that I am a SUPER GUILTY shopper. I can’t tell you how many times I add things to the cart then X out of the page because I’ve either determined I don’t really need it, or I don’t feel like reaching for my credit card, or I’ve just flat out already lost interest, or I found something for Chooch instead. #SELFLESS (lol not really.)

I know – this doesn’t fit into my spoiled brat personality profile, right?! 

But something made me check on that pin the other day and I said “YOU KNOW WHAT? 에라 모르겠다 I’m treating myself.” And guess what?! I BOUGHT THE VERY LAST ONE because the Etsy shop is retiring their Kpop line, so I went back and snatched up TOP for Chooch as well. 

I just love it so much!! And then I realized I was wearing my GD pin with my DGD (Dance Gavin Dance) pin and my head exploded. 

I wore GD to work yesterday and while Lauren thought it was adorable, Glenn and Todd were like, “Good lord.” And then Nate saw it in passing and said the way the light was hitting it, it looked like George  Washington and he just figured that “G-Dragon” was what I was calling George Washington these days. 

I mean, he had a valid assumption. You never know with me. 

“I scored the last one!” I cried, breathless with joy. 

“Are you sure it’s not the ONLY one?” Glenn deadpanned. Such a hater. 

Anyway, I’m telling you all of this because my pin arrived just in time for this new IU jam featuring G-Dragon! I LOVE IT. I would love it more if his beautiful perfect angel face was in the video too BUT I’LL LIVE, I GUESS. (That’s what Henry told me anyway.)

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Apr 212017

Broken record here but Easter is my second favorite holiday after Halloween. It didn’t used to be, and it’s not like I have especially fond childhood memories of Easters past. They weren’t bad, don’t get me wrong! But there were two Easters where I can remember being very ill. Once was in 11th grade – I vomited up a Caesar salad and chocolate milkshake from Denny’s and then proceeded to be down for the count for most of spring break.

I EVEN REMEMBER WHAT I WAS WEARING THAT NIGHT AT DENNYS. Probably because my whole life back then was on video thanks to my camcorder being my trusty sidekick.

(You guys think I oversaturate social media now? Imagine if it was around back then!)

I guess it’s been ever since I became a mom that Easter has been something I look forward to, and of course I’m talking about the Easter bunny and Easter baskets and chocolate and basket grass and absolutely nothing religious at all. (Although it was fun a few years back when we had that pizza party for Jesus Christ on Easter!) Also, Easter is like the true gateway to spring in my opinion.

Easter almost started off terribly because THE EASTER BUNNY DIDN’T COME TO OUR HOUSE and by the Easter bunny I of course mean the Easter dummy – Henry. Chooch and I threw low-grade fits until Henry was like, “OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” and took Chooch to Wal-Mart to pick out some small Easter presents and they got me some plants too so CRISIS AVERTED.

Our prizes didn’t come in a basket with candy but we didn’t care because THINGS AND STUFF AND PRESENTS AND GIMME. 

We’re not spoiled or anything. 

Then we put together a small basket for Patty and visited her at the nursing home, where she was sitting outside on the patio with her dad and two other residents, one of whom (Barb) had a fork in her shoe which was the most hilarious thing I saw all day. Apparently, she didn’t even know it was there until Patty pointed to it and asked her is she was planning on shanking someone. It just fell and landed right in the side of her shoe. HOW IS THIS SO FUNNY!?

Anyway, we enjoyed the beautiful sunshine while bullshitting, and Chooch played with the saran wrap that I had half-assedly laid atop his failed galaxy cupcakes that he brought for Patty.

“Look, I’m Dexter,” he murmured, slapping it over his face. This made Barb scream, “OH HONEY NO! OMG NO!” which was wildly funny to me.


Chooch, giving me and old ladies heart attacks since 2006.

Then Chooch got to swipe a post-Mass donut while the pastor’s wife said he was handsome which totally inflated his big head further, and then Patty made good on her promise to play Battleship with him, during which Henry nodded off because when doesn’t Henry nod off.

That’s Barb in the background, having a biblical debate with that dude. They were watching The Greatest Story Ever Told, or The Ten Commandments….or who knows — I couldn’t see that far.

It was nice seeing Patty for a bit that afternoon and while it was tempting to leave Henry there to be treated for narcolepsy, I woke him up when it was time to go.

In the end, it was the right choice, or else I wouldn’t have this divine bowl of japchae for dinner, complete with an Easter egg.

Turns out that Scoops was open, so we ended the night with a walk to the boulevard for some ice cream. Just kidding, we actually ended the night with one of my bi-annual, volatile rants about cops. But then I did some KpopX and we all had a good laugh about my scary temper.


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Apr 202017

I almost let Easter slide by without any fanfare, but then a week prior we were at Target and Chooch was like, “We’re dyeing eggs next week, FYI. Tell Blake.”


I also told Kara, whom I haven’t seen since THE PIE PARTY.


I think this may have been the longest we ever went without hanging out. I blame political and seasonal depression.

Blake and Haley got to our house just in time for Chooch and me to start haranguing Blake to do things with us: Chooch wanted to bake galaxy cupcakes that he found in a cookbook we got him for Xmas and then promptly refused to help him with, and I wanted Blake to be the Easter bunny stand-in for our annual pictures because Henry was being a dumb dick and wouldn’t do it.

And then we did a quick Easter bunny sidewalk wave-and-dance side bar. I think Blake wasn’t going to do it at first but then he saw that cars were beeping and slowing down so the people inside could wave and cheer Chooch on, and he wanted in on that action.

Look for them at the next Anthrocon.


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I invited the neighbor kid Markie over too because he was sitting on his front porch, watching our antics and looking forlorn. I regretted the decision almost immediately because woo-boy does that kid love to get into all my stuff!

“Who invited Markie?” Henry sighed.

“I know right?” I said.

J/K. That kid is pretty harmless. And he’s super fun to tease. Takes it like a pro!

Kara and I dyed nary an egg, but we did partake in some soju action.

And then promptly blew freakshow-quality fire from our mouths.

In my mind, dyeing eggs always seems like such a grand idea, but then it’s over faster than it took Henry to set up all the dye. And then I remember how frustrating it is when the eggs don’t come out sparkly and gilded like they appear on the front of the Paas box.

Does anyone remember the Peter Paas Easter cartoon from the 80s? We had it on VHS, the kind that came in the giant, padded vinyl case.

Image result for paas easter movie

Just seeing that cover has me crucified with nostalgia! I can totally hear that sheep’s voice in my head!

Anyway, it was fun just hanging on the backporch which obviously I’m obsessed with if you can’t tell, watching the kids complain because the wax crayon didn’t work (WHEN DOES IT?! I can’t tell you how many failed weeners eggs I’ve dyed).  And then there was an impromptu Easter egg hunt because we bought a big bag of those plastic fucks at Goodwill for photoshoot purposes only, so Blake took a basketful and hid them all around the yard and it was way more entertaining than I anticipated. Harland got the golden egg and I could tell Chooch was trying to quickly construct a dam for his tears because god forbid he doesn’t win something.


Egg dyeing interlude.

All of the kids were running amok with animal masks at one point and I wanted to do a group photo but getting kids to agree to photos is hard and I didn’t have any cash on me to pay them like I have to do with my own kid.

His rates keep going up.

Somehow the night bled into a surprise story time…

Hey, speaking of bled…you know what else bled that night?

Oh, just Chooch.

He somehow managed to step on one of those thick wooden toothpicks later that night when he was going to get a bottle of water in the kitchen. Kara and I thought he bumped his leg off the kitchen table and was embellishing because if there is one thing that Chooch inherited from me that I’m very proud to admit, it’s my natural embellishment skills.

But no, as it turned out, he had half of this toothpick speared into his foot and it was NOT PRETTY. As soon as I saw what was going on, that he had essentially been staked, I lost my shit. My legs did that jelly thing and I was all dry-heaving while moaning, “Oh my GOD. OH my god. Oh MY god. OHMYGOD.” Finally Henry pushed me out of the way and calmly sat Chooch down on the couch, who at this point was screaming like he lost his whole entire foot in an episode of the Walking Dead. Henry just kept saying, “I’M TRYING TO GET IT OUT. STOP MOVING! NO, DON’T LOOK AT—–”

Too late.

Chooch looked.

And then the screaming got even more theatrical and I was acutely aware that we have neighbors but luckily they weren’t home so thank god.

I kept going back and forth between trying to comfort Chooch, making things worse, and then going back on the porch where Kara’s kids were like THE FUCK.

“I was just telling them about the time at the spray park,” Kara said, another time that Chooch had what you would think was a near-fatal injury and I almost puked in public but my temporary paralysis wouldn’t allow it.

I’m the worst in any types of traumatic situations. Thank god Henry and Kara were there or else Chooch and I would have both probably passed out, Chooch bleeding out and me choking on my vomit.

Henry managed to pull out the toothpick cleanly and the puncture wound only bubbled a bit with blood and then was fine – I was waiting for some gross blood volcano to erupt.

“This was probably 75% drama,” Henry mumbled.

Anyway, it was so scary at the time, but we were making jokes pretty soon after.

“Well, if KARA didn’t ask me to get her a water….” Chooch said defensively. Yep, that’s what I was waiting for. Kara’s going to be hearing about this one for years!

But really, if he wants to play that game, he can only blame himself because he’s the one who HAD TO BAKE CUPCAKES that day, which is why the toothpicks were out in the first place. I asked Chooch if he wants to guest blog about the horrible event, but he said he doesn’t want to relive it.

My Left Foot sequels aside, it was a really fun night. Nothing is better than a houseful of cool people and holiday pandemonium.

And now I will leave you with an oldie but goodie Kpop jam:

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Apr 182017

🎵: @foxbloodau 🐰: @beatkids1992

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Apr 172017

There’s something* about Mondays that makes me want to abstain from all the words and just share a music video that we can all dance to together in spirit. 

*(Oh yeah. Work.)

Let’s pretend like we’re all in a beautiful meadow, dancing with the adorable flower boys from 7 o’clock. OK? OK! 아싸!

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Apr 162017


Blake was over last night and I did that thing I do where I wait until the last minute and then blurt out, “CAN YOUDO ME A FAVOR HERE PUT THIS ON” and then before Blake knew it, he was reprising his leporine* role.

*(That was today’s Dictionary.com word of the day, have some smarts.)



My original plan backfired, because Henry failed to perfectly execute my vision so I threw a fit and pouted for twenty  minutes (I’m getting better), so I guess I’ll save that for that next year.

Anyway, enjoy whatever it is you do on Easter, and if you’re like us and do nothing, then bask in the glory that is no religious obligation! Stupid Henry, I mean, the real Easter bunny didn’t come back to our house so there were NO BASKETS for chooch and me and Henry, I mean, the Easter Bunny, said it’s because we’re spoiled brats and don’t deserve anything and now we know how he feels because we never get him anything for holidays?!

Henry, and I mean, the Easter Bunny, strikes back. What the fuck. 


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Apr 152017

I have vivid memories of being super young in the early 80s, watching Twice Upon a Time on HBO in our old house in South Park. This movie was everything to me. I used to make my mom rent it constantly from one of the tiny, pre-Blockbuster video rental stores (which was next to an arcade that I just learned recently that my Pappap owned, which explains why there were always arcade games and pinball machines in our houses when I was growing up.)

For some reason though, even though it was associated with Lucasfilm, it was really hard to find on video. I was on a kick as a teenager, desperately trying to find it, back when you had to get out the Yellow Pages and call places like Blockbuster and Suncoast. I eventually did find it, back in 1996 or 1997, and had it shipped to my house. (This was back before we used the Internet for every damn thing, you guys, so the fact that I was able to find it at all was a huge victory, and if we’re being honest, it was probably my Aunt Sharon who found it for me because she was relentless.)

And then there was this terrible night, it was actually the night before Thanksgiving in 1997, when my then-boyfriend Paycho Mike and I had a huge fight, one that involved him chasing me into my parentless house, and thankfully I made it into my bedroom with enough time to slam and lock my door behind me. 

He eventually left, but not before going into the family room, taking my prized copy of Twice Upon a Time, and running it over with his car. 

Janna was there. You can ask her! She was scared too!

So, that tells you how much this movie meant to me, that it was the first thing he went for in his mission to abuse me some more. 

I was able to find another copy years later, but it’s on VHS, and I don’t think it would play now even if I still had a VCR. 

It came up in conversation last night and I went on YouTube to find a trailer so I could show Chooch, who wasn’t impressed at all because it didn’t involve some douchebag YouTuber playing video games and screaming, so he went to bed while I stayed up crying to myself when I found the opening credits, which include Bruce Hornsby’s Heartbreak Town. 


So I decided that I need to watch this again, urgently. The last time I googled it, all I could find was used VHS copies. This time though, I found it on DVD – at Target! I had no idea this was ever released on DVD! IT FEELS LIKE I WAS VISITED BY THE EASTER BUNNY A DAY EARLY. 

That’s all. Just wanted to get that off my chest. Fuck psycho boyfriends, long live Target. 

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Apr 142017

It’s Good Friday. Would it be crossing the line if I made you guys pretend these bullet points are crucifix nails? Also, enjoy some random pictures of Pittsburgh in the springtime.

  • Henry and I have been going round and round for the last two weeks. Over almonds! Of all things. Every time he goes to the store, he asks me what I want, and I’m like, “Almonds.” A meager request! But then he comes home and I’m like where are my almonds and he’s all blank stare which means his synapses are tripping over themselves trying to send a legit excuse to his brain. So the first two times this happened, he was all, “I forgot” and then the next time, he was all, “THEY ARE EXPENSIVE.” This seemed like a lame excuse so I started a fight with him, because that’s what I do: start fights and prevent him from sleeping. Everyone knows that. Anyway, on Monday, I went to CVS because I had nothing to eat for lunch and figured I should buy some more oatmeal which is one of the few things I can be bothered to prepare on my own, and while I was there, I thought, “I will also get almonds, fuck you Henry.” And holy shit, guys, almonds are fucking expensive! I mean, I don’t really know the value of a dollar or economics or even how to count money, really, but $9 for a small bag of almonds seemed a bit astronomical to me. So I bought pecans instead and even those seemed like a lot of money, what is this world coming to. I came back to work and had SO MUCH TO SAY about this. “I thought almonds were just like, basic. Like peanuts!” I cried, and Glenn just frowned and said no. Todd put his earphones in because he didn’t feel like contributing, I guess. I was very distraught about this and no one cared, but I bet BARB would have cared if she still worked there. She probably would have come in the next day with an almond-filled sack slung over her shoulders, like the Santa Claus of Seeds.
    • In other CVS news, when I was waiting to check out, the manager came back in from her smoke break (presumably) and literally yelled, “JOHN! Oh my god, JOHN! You didn’t think to ask for help!?” John, the lone cashier, barely glanced up from the change he was counting, therefor didn’t realized that the line had grown exponentially since he started ringing up his current customer. “You didn’t notice this MAGNIFICENT line?!” the manager hollered, gesturing wildly to us haggard people trying to get shit done on our lunch break. John just shrugged and calmly handed his customer their receipt and called the next person in line. Meanwhile, after calling for “Amy’s” assistance (she told her the line had 30 people in it — FALSE), the manager opened the register next to his and I was the lucky person who drew her number. “I’m so sorry!” she loudly apologized to me. “I have NO IDEA how he didn’t notice this line!” Poor John was just standing there, trying to block her out, trying to do his job, trying to enjoy being a middle-aged man in a graying pony tail. “Honestly, it just kind of happened all at once,” I said in John’s defense, because suddenly I’m not the person who gets irate when standing in line anymore? The manager looked at me, a real hard look directly into my eyes, trying to see if she could detect bullshit, like who is this dumb bitch with the audacity to defend JOHN, right? “Well, we’ll let him off the hook this time, since you said it all happened at once,” she said with A WINK while handing me by bag of oatmeal and not-almonds. UGH, we didn’t just BOND over that, so don’t wink at me, weirdo. Poor John. I hope he went home and at least got a handjob that night.

  • Sometimes at work, we get high school interns or something, I don’t know what they are, but they’re usually following around the people from the mail room and it’s kind of cute at first but then I just feel sorry for myself because these kids still have a chance, you know? LE SIGH. Anyway, one of the mail guys was carting around some girl a few weeks ago and I vaguely noticed her in my periphery. I didn’t really think much of it until a few days later when she was patrolling our floor for mail all on our own. I went over to Todd’s desk after she rounded the corner and said, ‘Wow, that high school kid walks around here with more confidence than any of the actual mail people!” Todd gave me some neutral reply and then we went about our business. A few days later, I noticed she was STILL there, which I thought was weird because I don’t remember those kids ever lasting very long. So that’s when I was like….is this not a teenager? Todd was all, “Man, I had no idea WHAT you were talking about that day. That girl is like in HER THIRTIES.” And then the next time she walked by, I got a real good look at her, and just started cracking up because there is literally nothing about her that even remotely suggests she could be in high school. MY EYES ARE THAT BAD. Even Lauren admitted that she was concerned for me. “And they also never let those high school interns go rogue,” she pointed out, which I think was her gentle way of calling me a dumbass. I started thinking of this while I was doing KpopX the other night, and I started laughing so hard that I almost peed my pants during a rigorous “Boombayah” routine. “It’s not funny,” Henry said. “You sincerely need to get your eyes checked.”

  • Speaking of KpopX, my new shirt came in the mail and I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT. I almost knocked Henry to the ground in my haste to get the package open. No, not his package. The actual KpopX package, straight from Singapore. (Not Korea, sadly.) I took these stereotypical pictures even though it’s something I would generally roll my eyes at, just because I wanted to tag Maddy (FROM KPOPX!!) in them on Instagram. I’m a suck-up.

  • My friend Stacey was recently in San Antonio and sent me this picture because she knew it would make me laugh. <3
  • “Don’t think it’s weird that I’ve never been haunted by anything?” I asked my co-workers out of the blue the other day. “That’s because you’re on the haunting end of things,” Glenn muttered. THIS IS THE NICEST THING HE’S EVER SAID TO ME.
  • Meanwhile, Todd broke my heart because he said he likes BTS better than BIGBANG. (It’s a Kpop thing. You wouldn’t understand.)

  • The abortion protestors must be on vacation because I didn’t see them at all this week, except for one lady who was KNEELING ON THE GROUND and praying in front of Planned Parenthood today, like get the fuck over yourself. I was on the phone with Henry and as I walked by, I VERY LOUDLY said, “Oh my god this ABORTION PROTESTOR IS PRAYING, GET A LIFE” because that’s how I operate: feel of passive aggressive indignation. Last week, some old priest was pacing in front of Planned Parenthood, holding a cross and praying and I was like, “OMG YOU’RE SO COOL” and he MIGHT have heard me. I hate those people. They recruited some young girl with blue hair, like she’s going to help convert the Satan-y, alternative types. She tried to give me a brochure once and I hissed.
    • One time, years and years ago, like pre-Chooch years ago, there were pro life d-bags protesting at the church across the street from my house. They were wearing those tacky sandwich boards with various depictions of fetuses splayed across, so Robbie and I decided to open the windows and blast Marilyn Manson. Henry got very upset about this and told us we were being childish (to be fair, Robbie actually was a child at that time, so….).


The look I give Planned Parenthood protestors.

  • Todd, Lauren, and I had a really deep conversation about moths yesterday. 

  • I got my passport renewed yesterday just in time for 87 different conflicts to heat up in the world. There might not be anywhere left that’s safe to travel to soon, but at least there’s one more ugly picture of me out there.
  • After work today, I was walking through Market Square when I saw some guy laying on the ground surrounded my paper towels. A small crowd had gathered and the popo had just rolled up. One of those lame bicycle cops strode over in his dumb bike hat and asked the prostrate man’s friends, “Is he OD’ing? Alcohol?” “No, he just um, fell and hit his head,” one of the accomplices said, while a BOTTLE OF LIQUOR was on the ground right next to their downed friend. Good job, guys.
    • I was telling Henry about what I saw after I got in the car and he was all, “Oh, I saw two guys running past the car with paper towels a few minutes before you got here” and I thought that was so cool that we both saw two different parts of the scene so then I started obsessing over it because there isn’t enough substance in my brain to keep me from dwelling on things that don’t matter.


  • I have Post-It notes all over my desk to help me with my Korean. So like, I have one on my phone that says phone in Hangul, etc. There’s one on the audit lamp, too, and yesterday, Todd was at his desk and said “lamp” out loud in Korean! I was so excited because he was looking at the Post-It on it the other day and I was teaching him how to pronounce it, so with my hands on my chest, I cried out, “Oh my god, you remembered!” Maybe I really CAN be a teacher after all, right? But then Todd laughed and said, “God no, it’s called Google Translate and it’s right in front of me.” :(


  • My favorite part about Chooch bringing flowers home is trying to guess from whose yard they were thieved. He just had another row with Jackie the Witch today so I’m going to guess her flowers are next on the list. It was a huge ordeal apparently- she made Jayden cry and Chooch came to me with 4 kids in his wake, hysterically recapping the latest “GET OFF MY LAWN” episode and this one kid was like LOSING HIS MIND, he was so angry. I let them all vent and then basically said, “Cool story, get off my lawn.” Look, Henry was almost done making my tteokbokki and I wanted to eat, not get in some pointless screaming match with JACKIE. Anyway, I think this is just karma because when I was first moved here, Jackie’s son was Chooch’s age and he ANNOYED THE FUCK out of me. Somehow, all of the neighbor kids used to congregate on my porch—OK, not “somehow.” It was clearly because I was the cool 20-year-old on the block. Chooch wanted to throw that in Jackie’s face. “I should have said, ‘Yeah, well, you should worry about your own son and whose yard he’s on!'” OK Chooch, but that was 17 years ago (OMG I’ve lived here a long time) so that doesn’t really hold up.
    • My favorite part about Chooch’s reenactments of his conflicts is when he says, “And then I said [insert obscenity-laden, brazen retort], OK fine, I just thought that in my head. What I really said was ‘ I DIDN’T DO IT.'” He never does anything, you guys. It’s obviously Drop Dead Fred.


  • I noticed a sign in the window of Rock n Joe’s the other day, boasting their lavender lattes. Lavender lattes are my favorites, tied with maple! Crazy Mocha is where I usually go for my lavender fix, but I decided to give Rock n Joe’s a try even though I think they’re overpriced and gimmicky. So I rolled up in there yesterday on my break, about fifteen minutes before they closed. I walked in to an empty joint, all prepared to order, but the guy behind the counter had to finish his text first. You know how important that is when you’re AT WORK. I hold up one finger all the time when my boss comes over to ask me something, like just a second, lemme just finish telling Henry that G-Dragon’s solo concert in Seoul sold out in 8 minutes, thanks. I let this dumbass finish and then when I tried to order my little slice of lavender heaven, he did the sad face/head tilt before saying, “I’m sorry, we’re all out of lavender syrup. We’ll have more tomorrow.” And then he waited for me to order something else, and normally I would have ordered something I didn’t even want because it’s in my nature to feel obligated by society, but you know what I said? “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow, then.” Well, today is tomorrow and do you think I went back? NO I DIDNT. “Wow, you sure showed him,” Henry said when I called him at work to tell him this amazing story.

I think that’s all I have. But before I go, here’s a kpop video! These guys will be at KCON and I want to go so bad and I even already requested off work but I have a feeling I’ll never be able to get tickets. Anyway, I like them mostly because their singer has been on Running Man a whole bunch of times and he is just so dreamy.

But no seriously, I have never related to Korean college girls so much before in my life.


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Apr 122017

2014 flashback #easterbunny #bunny #tophat

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Today at work, the mail guy wished me a happy Easter and I was like, “HAHA ok weirdo” but then I said, “Wait—when’s Easter?” and three people at once were like, “Uh, it’s this Sunday, dumbass.”

Why can’t Easter just be at the same time each year?! I can never keep tabs on it. I’m either too soon, like the time I had an Easter egg dyeing party nearly a month before Easter and none of my friends thought it was strange because they’re used to me not having a clue. 

Or it creeps on me unexpectedly like this year. I feel like I knew last weekend at one point that it was soon but then I managed to forget once the week started. 

My point is that I didn’t take any Easter pictures of Chooch yet and now I’m not sure if I’ll have time and I’m sad about that. And timehop is all super casually reminding me of past Easter portraits and I’m just like, “Suck a dick, Timehop.” It’s always nagging me to look at my past when everyone else is telling me to stop living there and I feel so conflicted. 

Maybe I’ll just go commercial and stick him on some mall bunny’s  lap. 

In other Easter-y news, Chooch is on spring break which I always feel should come after Easter but whatever. Judy has been watching him which is fine but with that comes some necessary tweaks in my routine. For instance, when she’s here, I can’t watch Running Man. We tried to watch it with her on Monday and she was open to it, but then she kept wanting to have non-Korean conversations and I was like I’m TRYING to watch RUNNING MAN. 

“Yeah but it’s not like you need to listen to it,” Glenn muttered when I complained about this today. 


And then she washes our dishes and I really appreciate that but she doesn’t actually wash them, if you know what I mean. I pulled a spoon out of the strainer and it still had peanut butter on it, so I basically just dumped everything back into the sink. 

Glenn’s advice was to just reuse that spoon for peanut butter and I almost puked. 

My favorite thing about having her here though is listening to her and Chooch bicker like the Odd Couple. (The Odd Couple?! Hi, I’m an 80-year-old.)

For instance, last night, I wanted to light a candle in my room but didn’t have a lighter so I did what any parent would do and summonded my kid to go play fetch.

Immediately, there was a verbal scuffle between those two downstairs. Judy was trying to tell Chooch that there was a lighter in the kitchen but he apparently ignored her advice and took his search elsewhere so she kept yelling at him to check the kitchen and finally he was like GRANDMA I KNOW, THAT ONE DOESNT WORK to which she outmatched his volume with her retaliation of WELL YOU DIDNT SAY YOU NEEDED ONE WITH FLUID. 


Anyway, Chooch found the lighter he was looking for (there are a lot less lighters in the house when no one is a smoker, that’s for sure) and brought it to me like a happy puppy. 

Except that the candle’s wick was down too far and neither of us could fit our meatfists down in there. I figured this was a grand time to teach Chooch my trick, and as he watched me rip up a piece of paper and light it on fire, he began to object but it was too late: I had already dropped the fiery paper into the candle jar, failing in lighting the wick but succeeding in filling my bedroom with smoke. 

Luckily, chooch had removed the smoke detector THAT SAME DAY because Judy burnt a veggie burger and set the alarm off and neither of them knew how to turn it off so chooch removed it from the ceiling and apparently wanted to bash it to death but then Judy took it off him and calmly removed the batteries.

Don’t worry, Henry will put it back.

Meanwhile, Henry was trying to sleep but apparently the act of his lungs filling with smoke woke him up and HOO BOY was he pissed when he saw us standing there, Chooch with a lighter in his hand, me with my PYROMANIAC cape on, with a smoking Yankee Candle knock-off between us. 

This has absolutely nothing to do with Easter, but there you go. 

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