Apr 042014


  • Chooch wasn’t feeling too hot on Tuesday so I kept him home from school. I wanted to watch the new episode of The Following, which is what I would NORMALLY do on Tuesday mornings CHOOCH, but that was vetoed. However, the thought of Kevin Bacon reminded me that I wanted to watch his recreation of Footloose-moves on Jimmy Fallon, so I found it on On Demand; Chooch was captivated. I pulled up a clip of Footloose on my phone and Chooch was even more enrapt. Then he said he wanted to watch the WHOLE THING, so I found it on Netflix and this was a shit-ton of words just to tell you that my son and I watched Footloose on Tuesday.



  • Hey, remember my son and I watched Footloose on Tuesday? He got super heated during the scene where that dickhead Chuck started beating on Ariel and so he screamed, “WHAT A BASTARD! NEVER HIT A GIRL!” which made me feel like maybe I had parented well somewhere along the way, though it was probably a fluke. (And yes, he knows that hitting in general is a no-no. Which always leads into murky territory though because one time we were over some dumb bitch’s house and one of her feral spawns purposely hit Chooch in the face with some hard plastic toy and I didn’t even know until the less-feral  of the two spawns came out and said, “Miss Erin, Chooch is crying because [feral name withheld] hit him on purpose with a hard plastic toy.” Chooch was sitting in their bedroom, silently crying, and he said to me, “What was I supposed to do? I can’t HIT him, he’s only 4!” I always tell him to just walk away, but if it’s a matter of self-defense, GO THE FUCK FOR IT. But that’s just me. Your opinion might vary and that is OK.)



  • I was a little hungover on Sunday, but I ate some weird fruit and then started working on that guest blog thingie which ended up not being that bad! Everything always seems so dire until I start it and then it’s like, “This is just blogging. Calm the fuck down.” I rewarded myself by visiting my friend Lisa afterward. Her baby Gigi was napping for a good portion of my visit, but she was awake, she was like “Who the hell is this broad in my house? And can I please chew on that Dance Gavin Dance pin that you have there on your flannel?” I, being the SMARTIE that I am, was like, “No you may not.” All of this only happened in my head because I just wanted to give myself the pleasure of writing about my DGD pin since this 1987 and we all wear band pins, right? Anyway, the greatest thing ever happened and that was when we were talking about high school and Lisa said, “I have to say, I REALLY liked high school, but that was mostly because of you.” And then she went on to string together a ton of sentences where I was the subject and having fun was the verb. Did that make sense? I don’t remember how sentences are made. But you know what? We did have a ton of fun in high school and I miss those days big time. Even though Lisa and I only hang out a few times a year, she is still one of the few people that I’m 100% me around. No walls. No filters. I feel like, aside from when I’m at home with Henry and Chooch, I am always swallowing so much of my personality back to the point where most people probably think I’m a mute. But with Lisa, I’m the real me: loud and ridiculous. Maybe someday that will be my default again, but too much shit happened in my 20s, you guys. Too much.
  • I was telling Barb about how my work night was so shitty last night, that I texted Henry and told him I just wanted him to hold me when I got him. “Aw,” Barb cooed. “And did he?” I made a face and said, “Ew, no! I was over it by then.”
  • Speaking of Barb, she has been super into watching a live feed of this local eagle’s nest. There were three eggs and the whole city was on “egg watch” basically, but Barb was like a maniac over it, like she’s related to them, like she’s waiting for her eagle grandchildren to be born. God, get over it, Barb. Anyway, she was all stressed out last Thursday because it was predicted that Friday would be the day that the eggs would start hatching, and she was going to be en route to Toronto that day to visit her brother. “I just know an egg is going to hatch when I’m not around to watch,” she cried. AND SURE ENOUGH, AN EGG HATCHED ON FRIDAY! I saw it on Facebook and was filled with glee that Barb missed it. I got to rub it in her face when she came back to work on Tuesday and it was DELICIOUS. (I mean, the “in-your-face”-isms, not the eagle egg.)


  •  One day last week, I had just deposited Chooch at school when he decided to turn around and, in front of the principal (I still remember how to spell that because the Principal is supposedly your pal but all I remember about my grade school principal is that he was the keeper of The Paddle, and that doesn’t seem very palsy), Chooch rolled his eyes back into his head and yelled, “Your demonic child is leaving.” THANKS FOR THAT. Hilariously, one of the parental witnesses happened to be a dad from the shitty Catholic school (his kids transferred to Chooch’s current school right after he did), so at least he had something to report back to the holy bitches.
  • Also last week, I read about bulletproof coffee, where people literally put pats of butter in their coffee and it’s supposed to help keep them full or something, I can’t remember now. That was LAST WEEK. So that morning, I decided I wanted to try it. I was on the phone with Henry and he was like, “That’s great, just make sure you use butter and not margarine.” “Uh, duh,” I said teenagerly, while quickly abandoning my grip on the I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. Anyway, it was disgusting.


  • The other night, Marcy was sitting on top of the couch, staring intently into the dining room and whipping her tail against the back of the couch with full force. She was visibly agitated, but Henry and I couldn’t figure out what she was looking at, until he realized it was the cat on the gift bag. I made fun of her SO HARD after that. God Marcy, get a clue!!
  • Henry wasn’t paying attention  to me yesterday so I sprayed him with perfume and now I will be hearing about this for at least the next few years.
  • I’ve been listening to Fantomas & Everyone Dies In Utah (thanks for the heads up, Kendahl!) all night at work but then THE PHONE RINGS and I get so angry because I have to turn it down. IT IS FRIDAY. Why are bitches even bothering with work tonight!? I’m going to go home and punch Henry in the face while simultaneously unraveling all of that “keep your hands to yourself” parenting I was bragging about up there.
  • Chooch is going to be 8 this month. How, why, what?


  • My friend Bridget told me that I remind her of Lena Dunham, but quickly explained that it was because of my writing and not because I’m always naked at work. I liked that compliment a lot. I don’t get very many here at work.  Mostly just secretaries telling me that I’m their favorite, but then I remember that they don’t have much to pick from, so I’m kind of the default favorite. :(
  • I hate the word “turnt” and stupid white girls who call each other the “n-word,” but basically if you’re a stupid white girl using the “n-word,” then you’re more than likely also using the word “turnt.” Coincidentally*, I always see this shit being said in comments on Jonny Craig’s Instagram. (*Just kidding, that is definitely not a coincidence.)
    • Speaking of Jonny Craig, his psycho ex-fiance (remember the one whose initials he had tattooed in a giant fashion on his stomach?) posted old videos of him doing drugs on Instagram on the other day and the Internet went into a flurry of excitement. Jonny recorded himself taking a drug test and it all came back negative so that’s good. Because no matter how badly my feelings for him ricochet, I don’t want to see the guy relapse. Especially not now that he has a new band and is about to release new music, OMG turnt for days.
    • Apparently the trashy ex-fiance lost 1,000 followers over the incident, but I’m like, “How did she have that many to lose in the first place?” She’s boring and average.
  • Sometimes I like to pull an old vacation journal off the shelf and relive the golden years, but then I only end up reliving awful fights between me and my aunt Sharon. Why did we continue going on vacation together summer after summer when we clearly hated each other?! Oh my god. I think the answer is: she didn’t have any friends and I just really wanted to go to Europe. And boy, did I pay the price. I would like to start writing on here about some of those trips, because we made some cool vacation friends (I just found one of them on Facebook but when I asked Henry if sending her a friend request would be weird, he gave me the “You knew her for 2 weeks in 1995; please don’t be a creep” face), but I always get side-tracked. And that was back when I would write things like, “We went to [insert Italian hole-in-the-wall restaurant] and I ate a sandwich.” So detailed, so memorable, so shit. WHAT KIND OF SANDWICH!? DID 1994 ERIN LIKE IT!? WHAT DID YOU WEAR?! FML.
  • The next Law Firm Walking Challenge starts in a little over a week! I’m excited to wear a pedometer again!
  • I’m done with this now.


Marcy and her idol, Hannibal

  2 Responses to “Freitag Frivols.”

  1. I am with you Marcy. Hannibal is my creepy, murderous, people-eating man-crush.

    I ate a Sonya apple this morning and thought of you. I have to say, though, I think I love the Envy more. It’s got a crunchier texture. << as if that's a thing.

    Can I tell you, I'm sort of starstruck at the fact that I told you about a band and you listened to it. They've been on my constant playlist since then.

    • I haven’t had a good Sonya since that first time I raved about them—of course! However, I’ve struck gold with the Envy every single time since you told me about them. Lately I’ve had to put cinnamon and/or peanut butter on every apple I’ve eaten because they’ve all been so crappy, but the Envy is still sweet as ever!

      I’m so glad you told me about that band! And it figures, over the weekend their record label posted a flyer of their upcoming tour on Facebook, lol!

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