Apr 232014


Me: Basically, every muscle in my legs hurt…wait, are shins muscles?
Henry, sighing: No, those are bones.
Me: OK, well those hurt too.

The results for Week One are in and my team is ranked #9 in the whole firm (and our firm is fucking ginormous and international, you guys) with a total of 321,448 points. My individual total for the week was 157,181 so….you’re welcome Team Adverse to Sitting. It also helps that I don’t have A MEANDERING CAREY on my team this time!

I’m really in a groove though! I’ve been doing cardio every morning and every night after work, with a shit-ton of walking in between. At first it was really excruciating, but now I’m like GIVE ME MORE. Until I wake up in the morning and have to roll myself out of bed because my body is so wrecked. My body was so sore on Monday that the stop-motion way I had to walk Chooch to school that morning made me look Claymation. Maybe Gumby will ask me to prom.

I am trying so hard to not be a competitive douchebag knee-breaker in the style of Tonya Harding, but….you’re going down, No More Pat.

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Apr 232014

Fifteen years ago today, the world lost one hell of a guy. This one’s for you, Aaron. I know how much you LOVED this song!

(Fun fact: he did not love this song. But I did and I would play the shit out of my cassette single every time we hung out because that’s the kind of endearing friend I am.)

A person could go mad thinking about all the whys and hows and wondering what kind of guy he would have grown into. An awesome one, obviously.

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Apr 222014

So, I tried to be a normal grown-up and maybe wait until later this week to post this since I already posted once today, but I CAN’T WAIT YOU GUYS BECAUSE OMG JONNY CRAIG’S NEW BAND SLAVES FINALLY RELEASED A SINGLE AFTER TEASING US RELENTLESSLY!

I actually kept refreshing their Facebook page last night before I went to bed until they finally announced that the song was available on iTunes so of course I screamed real loud like a typical 34-year-old MOM does when her favorite fantasy boyfriend releases new music and I kept trying to get Henry to listen to it on my phone but he actually rolled away from me and tried to put his pillow over his head.

My love affair with Jonny is so confusing, even to myself. I want to hate him! But…then I hear his dumb voice and I get all googly eyed and it’s 2008 again. I have to admit though, I wasn’t 100% in love with his solo stuff. I liked it, but in my heart, I believe that Jonny belongs in front of a band. And hopefully, Slaves will be the one that sticks. Maybe this is the fresh start that Jonny needs, you guys. MAYBE HE IS DONE BEING A D-BAG!

Anyway, Hands Like Houses announced their first US headlining tour, which starts next month, and Slaves is one of the supporting bands. I am DYING TO SEE THEM but the closest they’re coming is 4 hours away, which is not that far, but Henry is making me jump through all sorts of hoops before he will agree to take me. If it were in Pittsburgh, I’d go alone. But I dislike driving more than 2 hours away by myself. Years of back-n-forth to Cincinnati was enough. Besides, laughing at Henry’s frowns and extreme discomfort at seeing Jonny on a stage is part of the process.

2014 has ejaculated unto us a ridiculous amount of amazing music and tours so far, and the year isn’t even half over. I bow down to you, 2014. (And you too, Henry, if you take me to Allentown, goddammit.)

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Apr 222014


We are pretty apathetic when it comes to traditions in our house. I remember really loving the whole egg dyeing experience as a kid, and then getting stoked for it out of nowhere a few years ago to the point where I had an egg dyeing party (and, because I looked at the wrong calendar, I accidentally had it like 4 weeks before actual Easter, oh well), but mostly I’m just totally ambivalent about it. Chooch hadn’t even mentioned it, so I assumed we were going egg-free this year, but then at the last minute Henry was like, “Are we dyeing eggs?” and then Chooch and I were suddenly Egg Dyeing’s Biggest Fans.


“This is dumb.”

Chooch immediately cracked every egg he dropped into the dye cup-things. Did I mention that HENRY bought the dye kits without us? Immediately made the process 87% less fun. WHO DOES THAT?!



Goddammit, so did I.


Erin + Jonny = Easter pukes for Henry.


“You’re doing it wrong.”

I love that Henry stands around acting like some superior King Pinterest douchebag, judging our slipshod handiwork with smug smirks and disgusted lip curls, but then never EVER steps in to “show us how it’s done.” God, why don’t you just open an Etsy shop of judgments, Henry?


You deserve this, Henry.

Chooch and I lost interest in < 10 minutes. Henry tried to get us excited by adding vegetable oil to some of the colors so we could try our hands at marbling, but…bitch, please. That’s not enough to stroke our attention erect.

Henry said this is the last year for egg dyeing. #toomanyweeners

Then the Penguins lost game 2 of the playoffs and my night was over. (And, in turn, so was Henry’s.)


Meanwhile, this was happening in my classy neighborhood, prompting a couple of my friends to admit that they thought it was going to be Henry for sure:

Brookline man arrested after fight with girlfriend, police

April 20, 2014 5:29 PM

By Andrew McGill / Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

Aaron Goempel began his Easter by dying eggs with his girlfriend. He ended it in jail.

The 27-year-old Brookline man was arrested just after midnight Sunday after throwing hard-boiled eggs at his girlfriend and wrestling with police officers coming to her aid, according to court documents. At one point during the struggle to restrain him, he reached for a nearby sword, authorities said.

He remains in the Allegheny County Jail.

According to court documents, Mr. Goempel and his girlfriend were preparing for Easter by dying eggs in the living room of a residence on Wareman Avenue.

They got into an argument about Mr. Goempel’s infidelities, police said, and Mr. Goempel threw eggs at her, hitting her right eye and raising a bump.

She called the police. By the time they got there, Mr. Goempel had barricaded himself in his room.

The officers knew him: Mr. Goempel has been arrested multiple times for public drunkenness and disorderly conduct, police said. He also has a reputation as a spitter, according to court documents.

Breaking in, officers saw Mr. Goempel reaching toward a collection of knives and swords on his bedroom dresser. They quickly subdued him, though not before he kicked one officer in the crotch.

Taking no chances with spit, the officers slipped a pillowcase over Mr .Goempel’s head before taking him to the police car.

He is charged with aggravated and simple assault.

Read more: http://www.post-gazette.com/local/region/2014/04/20/Brookline-man-arrested-after-fight-with-girlfriend-police/stories/201404200224#ixzz2zYWREwCv

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Apr 212014


I was all set to write about Easter weekend, how Henry hates dyeing eggs and the amazing tofu I had (srsly, that’s a sentence that was just purposely typed), but then I realized what today’s date is. Just the other day, I was texting with Andrea and it dawned on me that the 10 year anniversary of they day I walked out of the most dysfunctional and damaging job I’ve ever had was coming up. No wonder it has been popping up in my mind so much lately.

Well, that day is today. It’s funny how a simple date can give me such stomach aches. But it has also given me a lot to think about. If you were my friend during the 4 years I worked at this place, you know all about how it was the most depressed I’ve ever been in my life, and you know about how the experience took my big lionesque personality and suppressed it into that of a timid lamb.

I don’t really talk about those days very much and I definitely don’t write about the worst of it because I was told not to. But I will tell you that the day I stood up to the owner of the company and walked out was the most empowered I have ever felt as a woman, and it was also one of the most reckless decisions I made. It took me YEARS to be able to mentally and emotionally start working again, because, well, four years of emotional abuse, inappropriate touching, verbal bullying, and the aftermath of walking away from it resulted in some trauma. I would go to interviews and have to breathe in paper bags in my car because I would be so scared and panicked. I developed a stutter. I became shy and socially crippled. I let this happen and I fucking can’t stand it. But, I am a lot better now. I’m also a lot different now.

This place had it all: death, suicide, theft, affairs, racism, sexism, harrasment, drugs. It was like working in an office full of sleazy uncles. Let’s just say that the climax was an argument between me and my boss about someone who ended up dying tragically three days later.

Perhaps after ten years, I should be ”over it,” and perhaps I need to go back to therapy, but it was something that defined me. Whether I like it or not. That place redirected the course of my life, and while I love where I am now, it was a long and rocky road full of unemployment, shut-off and eviction notices, panic attacks and extreme self-doubt. I hate that I let it happen. I hate that I thought it was “normal” to be treated like that. I hate that Human Resources didn’t exist there. So much of what is “wrong” with me today can be directly attributed to the years 2000-2004. (Everything else can be blamed on my family, haha.)

So today, I feel sick to my stomach and flooded with memories while nasty words ricochet in my mind. I am equal parts sad, angry, bitter, infuriated, guilty and FUCKED OVER. It’s your basic Sybil City over here. But, all of this reminds me that my current job is a fucking wet dream compared to that nightmare. So that is one silver lining.

The biggest silver lining is Henry (gross, but I had to be honest!). Everything happens for a reason, right? I’m not sure I would have met him anywhere else if we hadn’t both endured that hell together.

We’ll go back to having fun on here tomorrow, I promise.


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Apr 192014

I was able to knock out a few more Biblical/Easter Glenns before my eggs were cast aside for more commercial ones. Kind of like a plastic egg version of vinyl vs. mp3: only the cool kids liked my eggs.



Here we have: David Glenn & Goliath Glenn, Vatican Glenn, Swiss Guard Glenn, Friar Glenn.

Fire & Brimstone Glenn, Tenebrae Glenn, Hatching Spring Glenn, Glenn Falls For the 2nd Time.

Jeannie finally opened her egg while Nate played dramatic Game of Thrones music, even though for some reason I felt something from the Wicker Man would be better but I can’t explain why. Nate’s epic music suited the situation just fine though.

Anyway, Jeannie got Saint Lucy in her egg and was like “I don’t know who this is” which reinforces my claim that this was a FUN, LIGHT-HEARTED & EDUCATIONAL way to fuck off work.

Happy fucking Easter.

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Apr 182014

Hey just a heads up that it’s Good Friday and I feel like your basic upended hornet’s nest today so these are gon’ be some bruised fucking bullets. Also, the Law Firm Fitness Challenge has left me pretty depleted of, well, everything.

  • Might as well just start with that then, huh? The Law Firm Fitness Challenge has me so exhausted. Since other activities can be counted in addition to walking, I’m only walking 15,000 steps this time around and then averaging around 70-90 minutes of cardio a day (most of that taking place in the morning, with shorter sets of cardio after work). The other night, Henry flipped out and said, “OMG YOU’RE NOT TRAINING FOR A TRIATHLON! SIT THE FUCK DOWN!” He only gets mad because he wants to watch TV, not me writhing in pain. (You’d think he’d love that though.) Anyway, the good thing about this is that since I’m in a competitive mindset, I’m not slacking off like I would generally do. My normal routine is only 30 minutes of cardio 5-6 days a week. But now I’m purposely seeking out hard things that make me cry. Yesterday, I thought I hurt myself but I’m OK. Although now I think I have water-on-the-knee. Whatever that is.
    • If I counted “boxing with Henry while he tries to sleep/watch TV/cook dinner” and “throwing explosive tantrums every time Henry ignores my daily phone calls” as the vigorous cardio I know it to be, I would blow my Law Firm Fitness Challenge competitors out of the water.
    • You might be surprised to know this about me, since I’m a perpetual Captain Chubs, but I’m actually pretty athletic & enjoy fitness-y things. I played tennis competitively when I was a kid/in high school. I chose tennis because I’m not a team player.


  • I changed Marcy’s name  to Hugs & Kisses last weekend. Janna came over and laughed really hard when I told her, and that upset Marcy.
  • I hate everything today so badly, OMG. Every single voice around me is like a serrated blade to my ear drums, help. I have a fake office-thing so shutting the door doesn’t help.
  • A secretary I dislike just called right now but my office-neighbor Patrick answered it so I will be erasing his name from The List.  (For now.)
  • We were at Target over the weekend and Henry was like, “YOU CAN GET TWO CDS AND THAT’S IT” (actually, he didn’t tell us we could get any, so….). Chooch got Bastille and he also wanted to get Maroon5 but I just couldn’t let him put that in the cart.  Mostly because it’s music that I just can’t get behind, but also because I wanted to get the new Used CD. Anyway, I felt like an asshole about it afterward because I don’t want to be That Guy who makes someone feel like shit for liking dumb music, and when I was his age, I was listening to a TON of mainstream music like Phil Collins and Hall & Oats (and yes, even the Cure was kind of mainstream, for awhile there anyway) and I turned out fine. So I guess he’ll get Maroon5 in his dumb Easter basket this weekend.
  • The new season of MTV’s The Challenge started last week and THANK GOD CT IS ON IT AGAIN. OMG he’s the hottest. Anyway, Henry tries to be all, “*grumble* I hate the fucking Challenge *grumble*” but then he gets all cozy on the couch with his stupid jug of iced tea and says things like, “OMG WHAT HAPPENED TO LAUREL!? OH YAY CT! STFU FRANK.” (See below for a picture of Henry watching the Challenge with his jug of iced tea.)


  • Hey remember when I was putting lots of time & effort into spreading Glennish Easter cheer around the office but then a mainstream Easter egg hunt usurped my renegade shenanigans and of course no one cared about my paltry eggs anymore because mine only have Glenns in them and not precious “golden bunnies,” which are redeemable for stupid gift cards.  If I see one, I’m smashing it.
    • I mean, perfect timing for the Judases to come out of the woodwork, though, amiright?
    • I AM ONLY HALF-JOKING ABOUT THIS. I spent a good bit of the last two days pouting in my office, because that is what bi-polar 34-year-old “professionals” do, along with filling 28 pages in their diary about HOW NO ONE UNDERSTANDS and considering quitting their job to become a freelance “daily specials” sign scrawler, but probably winding up working at a gas station instead.
    • See also: I’m not a team player.
  • There’s some Minecraft-related online course that teaches kids Java so that they can build their own “mods,” whatever the fuck those are, so Henry bit the bullet and enrolled Chooch, figuring that it’s never too early to start learning about programming in this day and age. Anyway, he is fucking zooming through this shit! He’s teaching himself how to make a unicorn demon (???) and I guess there was some issue last night where Minecraft wasn’t working so Henry was like, “You’re going to have to email the admins; that’s what they’re there for” so Chooch did that, but this morning he hadn’t heard back from them and somehow figured it out on his own. I know this because he used my phone to text Henry, “I got Minecraft to work and I fixed the errors all I had to do was erase ‘es’ to fix the addRecipe so Minecraft is fixed by me.” I don’t know what any of that means. But maybe soon he can redo my blog since Henry has been making empty promises for the last 7 years. Fuck you, Henry.
  • In the span of a week, our TV broke, our computer monitor broke, and now our car is breaking. Henry has gained a lot more wrinkles this week. We’ve been using one of our old box TVs while the real TV is getting repaired and I feel like a pioneer person. Yet I’ve been surprisingly blasé about any of these things. Oh, that’s probably because I’m dead inside.


  • I got this brochure thing in the mail yesterday and it was addressed to “Mrs Erin Kelly Robbins.” What a fucking joke. JUST LIKE THIS WHOLE ENTIRE STUPID WEEK.
  • Mean Amber2 gave me a package of dried persimmons because she hated them since she’s mean, but at least for once I benefitted from her meanness!
  • I decided to revisit Open Hand the other day and forgot how attached I was to their album “You and Me.” I used to listen to it on the drive to visit Christina in Cinicinnati, so….basically another album that makes my heart feel like a raw, salted wound. But, if I let things like that stop me from loving certain bands, then I’d be fucked. Especially if Henry and I ever break up, OMG. So then I texted Terri to see if she likes them too and she does, and it’s these little things that make me feel grateful and less alone. I hope I never stop being able to connect with people over music, even though it’s rarer and rarer these days. HAPPY EASTER.
    • Hey since we’re talking about music over our coffees right now, you and me, I thought it would be a cute idea for Chooch to give out mixed CDs as birthday party favors, but then I remembered that we can add the CD burner to the list of broken things in the house.
    • The amount of times Christina has popped up in my memory lately makes me think that perhaps she’s died, but my general complacency prevents me from looking into that any further.
  • I’m strangely excited to watch The Ten Commandments on our TV from 1998 this weekend.
  • I’m also strangely excited about Easter in general, in spite of the egg fiasco, but I’m not sure why because we don’t have any plans other than “go to a Chinese restaurant.” (Last year’s Pizza Party for Jesus Christ was super fun but between hosting that Stella & Dot party and planning Chooch’s LOLCat birthday party, I’m just too tired to host another thing.) It’s supposed to be nice out so maybe we can go sit in a field or something.
  • Birchbox is usually so hit or miss, but the one for April was pretty spectacular. TheBalm’s How ‘Bout Them Apples? lip cream is my new fucking jam and you should all go get some. (SEE BELOW for how it looks on my pudding face.)


  • OK. I just came back from a pee-break, wherein I zoned out in the stall to the point where I started to fall asleep. You guys, it hasn’t even been a full week of the LFFC (Law Firm Fitness Challenge, come on now); how am I going to make it to the end of May? Good god.
  • Today it occurred to me that I can never use the excuse “Henry had surgery and needs me to stay home and help him” to call off work, because who would ever believe that I was going to help Henry do ANYTHING?
  • I like to eat popcorn and then rub Henry’s glasses. It’s how I flirt, OK?! And oh, it makes him so mad.

I’m going to end this with a compilation of Instavids from last weekend because let’s have a little bit of joy around here, why don’t we.

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Apr 172014


Remember how I bribed Chooch with ice cream in exchange for Easter portraits? Well duh—that’s because I wanted ice cream, too. Yeah, yeah, yeah: I know that you can still eat ice cream during the winter (and trust me, I do!) but I am super partial to soft serve ice cream with sprinkles and well, they just taste better in warm weather. So even though this was supposed to be Chooch’s treat, I kept trying to give him gentle shoves toward soft serve places, but he was deadset on going to Scoops on the Boulevard, which is only HARD ICE CREAM. (And it’s really good too but I just wanted a soft splooge of vanilla majesty in a fucking cone, OK?

But then Henry pointed out that there is a new place down the street from Scoops called Carnival Treats and they supposedly have soft serve. Plus, this meant we could walk rather than drive, since it’s right down the street. And that’s a win/win because I’m really into walking. An enthusiast, even.


Carnival Treats is still new and does not have its shit together yet. It used to be a pretzel place that Henry jacked off over for about a month, but I never liked the pretzels. I’m picky about my pretzels. (I was just talking yesterday about some sort of food I’m picky about and Chooch was like, “Ugh, you’re just like a teenager. Teenagers are picky about EVERYTHING.” Oh OK, because 8-year-olds aren’t?)


I want to redo their sign in the worst way. It was making my eyes itch while I was waiting for my ice cream. You’d never know it based on the grammatical shit stains on my blog, but I am actually pretty good at spotting other people’s errors. And I’m REALLY GOOD AT MAKING SIGNS. That was my favorite part of working at that shitty meat place from 2000-2004 (which I’m technically not ever supposed to write about as part of an agreement from when I won a settlement against them after I quit and it pains me to think about all of the salacious tales I can never tell on this blog). But yes, in addition to managing the office, I was responsible for hand-writing the deli case stickers. My beautiful lettering, wasted on “PORK BUTTS” and “ALL BEEF WIENERS.” But I still churned them out with a gentle flourish because I take pride in anything I make by hand.

Even meat price tags.


But I digress.

The damn vanilla side of the soft serve machine wasn’t working because why would it be? So I had to get CHOCOLATE instead and I’m just not a fan of chocolate soft serve unless it’s a Frosty from Wendy’s.  But I ate it anyway because I was determined to enjoy my first ice cream cone of the spring, even though I complained about the sprinkles, too.

I’m picky about sprinkles.

These were too big and chewy.

Henry didn’t get anything because he was being a cry baby for some reason.


The next day was even more beautiful, so we took Chooch to Round Hill Farm to see the animals. Apparently, it was the location of the Great Allegheny Easter Egg Hunt which was scheduled to start an hour after we got there, so we rushed Chooch through in an effort to get the hell out of there before it started because I am way too much of a bitch to be a part of something so competitive involving children.


Chooch really wanted medicinal herbs.


THEN WE GOT MORE ICE CREAM. This time we went down the road to Yough Twist in Elizabeth because that place is the shit.  There was an old couple that arrived on their lame bicycles right before us and basically ordered a three course meal but luckily one of the other girls there who looked like she could have been a member of Danity Kane opened up another window for us to order because I guess she realized that her co-worker was going to be stuck helping the elder bicyclists for quite awhile. Ugh, I hated them so bad, I can’t even get into it right now.


I was a dummy and ordered a pretzel cone, which was totally disgusting. Why did I do that!? Why am always trying to gild the lilies?!


Thank god that girl had the foresight to give me a plastic cone protector thingie because my ice cream was melting at lightning speed. I actually had a bigger mess on my hands than Chooch, which is really saying something because he’s the grossest food-eater ever.

Also, I don’t care how annoying it is, I have a compulsion to photograph every single ice cream cone. It’s just what I do. Sorry if you have an eye allergy to ice cream pictures.



Henry, finishing both of our ice cream cones after he had already eaten his own.  He should look so much happier than that, right!? (Look at that dumb lock of hair sticking out of his hat, hahaha.)

Overall, not the greatest weekend of ice cream cones, but there’s, like, however many more weekends there are from now until next dumb winter.

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Apr 172014

Over the weekend, Janna and I were playing some stupid memory game with Chooch and I kept winning so Chooch threw a fit.

“YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO WIN!” he wailed. I tweeted “Chooch is crying again because I’m the best LOL” and my friend Bill replied with, “At least you didn’t smack his face off an awning.” Which is what he did to Chooch in Gatlinburg, TN. This inspired me to go back and revisit that vacation, and now you get to, too, OMG thank you Throwback Thursday! Don’t worry, I’m just reposting the first day, not the whole weeklong trip. I’ll spare you this time!
Originally posted August 28, 2011

Henry: “The Smokies are pretty big, you know.”
Me: “Yeah, like your asshole.”
Henry: “I don’t even know why I talk to you.”


We’re here! The trip down was not very eventful, except for THE MYSTERY HOLE which deserves its own post and I will do that when I’m home since I can’t get the pictures off the camera and am relying on my good ol’ iPhone to write this.

However, we did almost wreck minutes outside of our destination when some douchebag knocked over a traffic cone in front of us on the highway and Henry swerved into a barrel trying to avoid it.

I printed out two pictures of Jonny Craig to keep at my bedside while here. Henry was perturbed & disturbed by this, and threatened to stay home.


We did some grocery shopping in Pigeon Forge this morning and you know I hate that shit but no way was I passing up the chance to snicker openly at the Tennessee drawls dripping like honey over the Food City intercom system. However, Chooch and I were being a bit rowdy, maybe running around too much, because I began to notice that we were on the receiving end of some nasty glares from other patrons. So we left and went to some souvenir shop next door where I got a wonderous Jesus pen (he’s real Big In Tennessee):

Then Chooch got yelled at by a cashier because while I was trying to pay, he found an axe and was running around the store with it. True story.

Later, we followed Bill, Jessi and Tammy to downtown Gatlinburg which apparently is owned by Ripley’s. We had JUST gotten out of the car when Chooch bit down wrong on a candy bracelet and tears instantaneously sprung from his eyes. Then he was embarrassed because his idol Bill saw him crying so he started crying even harder.

I was able to calm him down and then Bill gave him a piggy back ride, which brings us to injury #2. Bill was bouncing Chooch up and down and didn’t realize that he had stepped underneath a store front roof and bashed Chooch’s face right off it.


BIG TEARS ensued. Because I’m such a great friend, I pointed out that this was the second time Bill had injured my kid via Piggy Back.

Bill bought him ice cream to make up for it and then took him to look at a mini golf course after he spontaneously started sobbing because he misses our cat Speck.

Later on, a cashier in another store asked, “Who knocked you upside the face, boy?” and we all joyfully got to point at Bill.

I guess I shouldn’t be so smug considering I turned out and smacked him in the OTHER EYE with my big fat camera. (Injury #3, if you’re using a scorecard.)

More BIG TEARS ensued, but at least there wasn’t an audience for that one compared to the veritable Dinner Theater that Bill had.

Chooch almost fell down a flight of steps too.

(Chooch, when you’re taken away from us & dumped in foster care, please try to remember the good times.)

In between all this, we went into some optical illusion exhibit where Bill slammed a door in Henry’s face, I bought some cheap but amazing rings and AMISH PEANUT BUTTER, Bill had his palate scorched by salsa and I had to try to be sympathetic but really I thought it was pretty funny, and Henry scanned the area desperately for a barber to shear his luscious Kristy McNichol locks.

Tennessee rules.

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Apr 162014


This is what my desk has looked like all week, thanks to Easter Glenn Hunt 2014. If you weren’t around on these blog-parts last Easter, this is basically when I turn Glenn’s employee ID photo into an array of Biblical characters and usually one or two that are tableau-esque. (Last year it was a department-themed Noah’s Ark and the Last Supper.) Then I stuff one into an egg with candy and hide it somewhere around the office and pray that whoever finds it won’t run to HR. I like to live on the edge.

I was way more prepared this year though, and even ordered a box of Jesus-y goodness from Oriental Trading, like Christian-themed jelly beans (the red ones symbolize God’s shed blood, y’all), candy bracelets with candy crosses, Jesus stickers and Biblical finger puppets. Oh, what good wholesome fun.


Fun fact about yours truly: I was once super into religion. I was born and raised Roman Catholic and went to church every Saturday night like clockwork, and then went to Sunday School/CCD every Sunday morning. Do you want to know something sickening about me? I FUCKING LOVED SUNDAY SCHOOL. Oh shit, I loved learning about Bible things! Not because I was some holy roller, but because I considered it history. It was interesting and entertaining to me. And when we started getting tested on this shit in fifth grade and everyone groaned, I did a clandestine fist-pump under my desk because I was finally going to get all those A’s I deserved!

(I did, too. I aced every test because I was hot for Bible.)

And then in college, I took a few religion classes and considered minoring in that bullshit until I decided just to stop going to college altogether, which is what I do. Quit. I quit everything. WHY TRY WHEN YOU CAN JUST QUIT? That’s my imaginary bumper sticker.

So making these Glenns has been a huge refresher course for me! They make me so giddy and full of glee, and of course almost no one here knows WTF they’re supposed to be, but that’s OK. They’re still special to me.

20140416-142454.jpgl. to r. Stigmata Glenn, Judas Glenn, Manna From Heaven Glenn, Stoked for Passover Glenn.

20140415-194447.jpg l. to r. Ash Wednesday 4 Lyfe Glenn, Veronica’s Veil Glenn, Hot Cross Bun Vendor Glenn, Saint Glenn

I half-assedly hid an egg in Jeannie’s office on Monday and she must not have noticed it because she came back from lunch and just let it sit there. I waited for her to leave her office again and I rolled the egg so that it was in the middle of the floor, in plain sight. She came back to her office AND KICKED THE EGG TO THE SIDE. Totally disregarded it! I was like, “OMG WHY DON’T YOU CARE ABOUT THE EGG?!”

“I’m just waiting for you to be even more obvious about it,” she said in her patented grumpy demeanor.

She still hasn’t opened it and I’m dying to know which Glenn she got.


l. to r. Easter Bunny Snack Glenn, Saint Francis Glenn, Saint Lucy Glenn.



I noticed there was a theme on Facebook over the weekend, where parents bitched about their kids not getting any eggs at Easter egg hunts because other parents let their children be savages. THE SAME THING HAPPENED HERE, YOU GUYS. Co-workers would be like, “SO-AND-SO GOT THREE EGGS SO FAR AND I HAVEN’T FOUND EVEN ONE!” OMG. So then I had to deliberately plant eggs in places meant for only certain people to find them. For example, I put one on the floor of Wendy’s office and she was so upset the next day when she found out there was an egg in her office but someone else got to it first.

Oh, you know who it was? Mr. “I DGAF About These Eggs” himself, GLENN.

“What? It’s fair game,” he rationalized with a shrug and then sauntered away with the smugness.


Shepherd Glenn and his Processor Sheep (Todd, Chris, Mean Amber 2, Gayle, Amber1, Lauren)

20140415-194605.jpg l. to r. Water to Wine Glenn, Lion’s Den Glenn, Archangel Michael Glenn, Lot’s Wife Glenn 

20140415-194626.jpg l. to. r.: Good SamariGlenn, Obnoxious Bible Quoter Glenn, Glenn on a Grilled Cheese, Sacrificial Lamb Glenn

20140415-194837.jpg l. to r.: Sacred Heart Glenn, Saint Patrick Glenn, Palm Sunday Glenn, Billy Graham Glenn. 

I was really starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel after awhile, but luckily I have a connection with a Theology major. (Thanks again, Monica!!)

While I was making some of these over the weekend, Chooch was like, “WTF is that?” about one of them and I was trying to explain it, and then it occurred to me to ask him if he even knew the story behind Easter AND HE DID NOT which I guess was silly of me  to assume that his pathetic Catholic school would have taught him that. So I started asking him other religious-y questions and he just kept shrugging. And that is how I spent twenty minutes out of my Sunday night watching an animated cartoon about Moses on YouTube.

Chooch seemed pretty intrigued by the whole story, and at the end he asked, “So, what? God is like, a hacker?”

OMG. Needless to say, we will be watching more Bible shit this weekend.

But anyway, the moral to this is that Glenns are educational! Get stoked for Bible study!


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Apr 152014


Henry hates it when Chooch & I walk to the bakery and buy him a donut because he knows there is absolutely nothing altruistic about it. We just want to take pictures of pretty pink frosting grazing his bristling moustache so that we can endlessly mock him later. It’s one of my favorite past times.

So now Henry tries to act like he doesn’t want the donut. In fact, he was only pretending to eat it just so I would take a picture and leave him alone.

Henry’s dumb lunch.



He kept trying to sneak bites without me noticing so I wouldn’t take any pictures but I’m too fucking good. Get real, Henry.


It never gets old.

And this concludes my Law Firm Fitness Challenge Cop Out Blog Post. I feel guilty if I waste too much time sitting and typing when I could be pacing and lurking. (I lost two pounds since it started yesterday morning! My body fucking hates me today!)

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Apr 142014


We did our obligatory Easter bunny photo shoot over the weekend. The “DIY”approach started when Chooch was four and my mom made me feel like a shitty parent because we hadn’t taken him to see the Easter Bunny at the mall. LUCKILY I always keep animal masks in the trunk, so we dragged my mom’s rocking chair outside and made Henry put a rabbit mask on.

It’s been variations of that ever since.

And since today is the start of the Law Firm Walking Challenge, I will leave you to a bunch of pictures and no more words. What a nice change, right?!


His one vest button came unpopped and I didn’t notice until we got home. I was going to Photoshop it, but it’s way more “Chooch-esque” this way, I think. There’s always something slightly off with him.




Everyone was happy because these were taken literally a three minute drive down the street at some abandoned school for blind kids. Usually I pick a location way off the beaten path with no cell service so Henry can’t call the police on me, ever.







It was exhausting.

P.S. Chooch’s rate these days is $10 + ice cream.

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Apr 132014


Henry’s sister Kelly posted this on Facebook for sibling day or whatever and I couldn’t stop laughing because the idea of Henry ever being a child (or someone who smiled, for that matter) is endlessly hilarious and intriguing to me. And then!! Then there’s the cone-headed Easter bunny with alien eyes.

That’s apparently some weird Easter egg Henry is holding. I thought it was a bike helmet.

Thank you for this gem, Kelly! It’s nice to see that while Henry may have outgrown that whole “smiling” scene, he’s still way into striped shirts.

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Apr 112014

“It’s going to be a roomful of girls!” Henry shuddered when I broached the subject of going to see Eisley. This made me roll my eyes. I mean, probably only 95% girls, Henry. Get a fucking grip. Plus, he’s totally annoyed by the fact that I follow every single member of the Eisley family on Instagram and am always trying to make him look at their babies. (THEY HAVE THE CUTEST BABIES.) I’m just obsessed all around. What’s the point in hiding it.

Besides, I knew after dragging Henry to three concerts in three days (one of which was 6 hours across the state), that he was definitely not going to want to accompany me to another show a few weeks later.


I have been a fan of Eisley since 2004, when reading a review of their EP prompted me to download (illegally, I’m sure, but I ended up buying the physical CD shortly after) some of their songs, which I put on a mix CD that would accompany me on a failed trip to Cincinnati. One of those songs was “I Wasn’t Prepared.” It was definitely love at first listen. Followed by 87 more listens.

I kind of stopped following them for awhile though after I got my then-friend Alisha into them and she totally played them out. After awhile, Eisley made me think of her and our failed friendship and that was just no good. But somehow a few years ago, Chooch heard some songs from their album “The Valley” and he became obsessed, to the point where he made me put their song “Sad” on his roller rink birthday party mix. And then I was reminded how much I once loved them and fell right back into the Eisley rabbit hole.

Anyway, the point to this story is that in ten years, I have not once had the opportunity to see them live, so I was going with or without Henry. And I was fully prepared to go solo, but then Janna said she would go even though she didn’t know anything about them.


Their show was last night at the Smiling Moose, which is kind of an awkward place to see a show since it’s relatively the size of a giant’s shoe box. But the bar itself is fantastic and has beer-like things that I am able to palate, plus really good vegetarian sandwich selections. For these reasons, Janna and I got down there a little early so we could chug beer-like things and stuff our faces with sliders while I tried to prime her on the members of Eisley, explaining that they’re a family and that Sherri is the one with pink hair and she’s my favorite so don’t you dare ever in a million years say anything even slightly disparaging about her because her entire being radiates joy and hope. JUST STFU JANNA.

(Honestly, Janna wasn’t even saying anything. How could she, with my incessant rambling? I never get to talk about music, so when someone gives me even the tiniest opening, I start talking like a 16-year-old auctioneer.)

Anyway, it’s a good thing I’m an old hag who the bartender didn’t card, because I realized when we got in line to go upstairs for the show that I only had my expired license. WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH ME AND LICENSES LATELY. Oh well, I wasn’t planning on drinking anymore during the show anyway, so I didn’t lose any sleep over it when the bouncer at the door barked, “THIS IS EXPIRED. NO” and shooed me away with nothing more than a scowl and implied, “No 21+ bracelet for you, skank.”

The Smiling Moose is set up where there is no other way to get on the stage if you’re the performer other than WALKING THROUGH THE CROWD. No backstage. No escape hatch in the floor. No fireman’s pole from the ceiling. Totally awkward for bands, I’d imagine. It wasn’t too crowded at this point though, so the opening band—Merriment—didn’t have too much trouble breaking through the complacent hipster girls on their way to the front of the room.

Merriment is a fine band. It’s made up of the two youngest “Eisley” siblings: Christie and Collin DuPree. Just very pretty, calm and quiet music. And thank god for that otherwise we might not have been able to hear the guy next to Janna when he sniffed his hands with zeal and shouted, “MY HANDS SMELL LIKE SHAWARMA!”

“What?” his girlfriend shouted back.

“MY HANDS SMELL LIKE BEEF!” he shouted back, louder this time and in layman’s terms, alerting the attention of the two girls on the other side of him, as well as me and Janna.

“That’s a really random thing to say!” the girl next to him laughed, and we all cracked up because he just kept inhaling his entire palms, like he was trying to relive his dinner.

Just then, the current song ended and Christie DuPree said, “Wow, it’s so quiet in here.”

“I agree!” Beef Hands said. “I totally agree.” And we all started cracking up again. He looked like John Mayer a little bit, but younger, and now I can’t stop picturing him taking deep drags of his fingertips like Mary Katherine Gallagher: Beefy Pits Edition.

Meanwhile, three girls had pushed their way through the crowd and stopped right in front of me. The one was pretty tall and, after she glanced over her shoulder at me, she yelled to one of her shorter friends, “Switch places with me so I don’t block this girl’s view!”

WHAT. This shit never happens to me at shows. I generally wind up with, standing in front of me, the most inconsiderate douchebag who seemingly has a tophat of hair on his douchehead, so close that his natural stench wisps its way into my nostrils.

Anyway, those girls wound up moving further up before the end of Merriment’s set and were replaced by a tall boy and his girlfriend. The boy was similarly very concerned about impairing my view. He turned around at least 3 times to make sure I was still able to see OK and I was like, “Am I at a fucking Gino Vanelli show or what? Why is everyone being so polite!?”

Too bad Janna didn’t have the same experiences from where she was standing, hahaha.


About 20 minutes after Merriment finished their set, the house music went off and the crowd parted for Eisley. You’re going to be so shocked about what I have to say next:

I started to cry.

Like, when have I ever cried at a show before, right?

Of course I fucking cried. That’s what I do.

I don’t even know that I have it in me to formulate cohesive thoughts about last night. They were spectacular. And they were all sick! EVERY LAST ONE THEM HAD COLDS and they still sounded like angels. How is this possible? And Sherri just smiled and smiled and you know how sometimes you go and watch a band and think to yourself, “Wow, they hate this. They’re so fucking bored up there right now” and it’s so disappointing because if you wanted a flat performance, you’d have just played their CD in your car while driving through a cornfield? Well, Sherri exuded enough joy and passion through her smiles alone that it’s so obvious she belongs on a stage. And she has the best personality. Someone in the front row asked her a bottle of water that was sitting on the stage, so she took one out of the case and handed the rest over to the person.

“Now don’t be greedy!” she said in a faux-stern drawl. “Make sure the people in the back get some too!”

Janna was all pissed off because the couple in front of her who she hated got the last bottle.


One of my favorites: Mr. Moon!

Meanwhile, Beef Hands was having conniption fits next to Janna. He was jumping and dancing and “Wooooo!!!!!!!”ing through the whole show and it was SO NICE to see because most of the crowd seemed to just be standing around like upright logs. I really wished Henry would have been there to witness Beef Hands, since he apparently thinks Eisley is not for men.


They played “I Wasn’t Prepared” and I honestly lost it. So many memories.

Someone on Instagram posted a picture from last night and the caption said, “Heaven is probably a lot like seeing Eisley” and I’m going to go ahead and back that sentiment. Their talent is boundless. Stacy sounds like a siren and when Chauntelle sang Millstone, I was like “YESSSS!” because she rarely sings and her voice is just as much of a treasure as Stacy’s and Sherri’s. I hope they never stop making music.

Oh, and Janna is totally a fan now, so THERE people who assume I like shitty music. Sometimes my friends actually like what I like. RED LETTER DAY!


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Apr 102014

I miss my work anniversary every year. I knew it was coming up and thought it was April 8th for sure, but then April 8th came and went and I forgot all about it. Just now I was inspired to check my blog to see if I ever posted on my first day. Of course I did, because that’s the shit that I do. I also learned that my work anniversary was April 5th, not the 8th. I also found a blog post where I talked about how obsessed I was with the beautiful Law Firm restroom, because it was still brand new at that point (and not just in a “new-to-me” way; the Firm had just moved into that newly renovated building two weeks before I started working there so everything was sparkly and shiny and there were CANDY BOWLS ON THE TABLE BY THE KITCHEN which is how they lured me in). Don’t worry, that bathroom is disgusting as shit nowadays.

Anyway, please enjoy my first blog post from The Law Firm. And my finger was “broken” due to a Jillian Michaels injury that morning. That was one of the first conversations I had with Barb, explaining to her why I kept wincing every time she handed me papers. So…not much has changed. (And I did become friends with those two girls, but BARB ended up being my first friend. Of all the people! Anyway, the reason I even excitedly mentioned that in a blog post from 2010 was because I wasn’t used to working at a place with normal people that I could actually imagine hanging out with. People who work late shift doing data entry are a….how do you say….special breed. And that was what I had been doing for awhile before getting this job. So no, I wasn’t interested in becoming friends with middle aged women with mullets who wore Crocs and Country Jamboree t-shirts to work.)


I’m at my new job! With a broken finger! Henry will have you believe it’s just bruised but what does he know? He thought Maunday was a misspelling for Monday ( SO DID ALISHA) until I opened my big bag of Biblical knowledge on his ass. (I’m still galloping around town on my high horse about that.)

Anyway. My desk area is bare. Stark. Inadequate. But at least I didn’t set off any alarms today.

Already there are two girls who I can imagine being friends with, which is pretty much where friendships start and end with me oh ho ho ho.

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