Dec 112014
 
  • I was on late shift two days in a row last week, so it was later in the morning when I took the trolley to work. Henry has been driving me to work on my last several late shift days, and I’ll tell you: the one thing I miss about working late shift every day is the cast of unsavories I got to mingle with on the trolley. Really never thought I would say that, but my regular morning commute is full of boring business-people quietly reading their Kindles or listening to podcasts. Occasionally there is that one douchebag who thinks it’s appropriate to loudly speak on their cellphone the whole way into town, and also now that it’s winter, it’s your average Snot Symphony up in there. ANYWAY!! For last Thursday’s late shift, I got on the trolley at 10:30 and an older lady reading the Bible promptly sat down next to me while the trashy girl in front of me answered her country music ring-toned phone and promptly started SCREAMING, “YOU SAT THERE CALLING ME NAMES AT FRIGGIN’ PRIMANTI’S! OH, AND NOW I’M A WHORE?!” Awkward. She didn’t look like a whore.
    • The next day, I sat behind a farmer.

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  • Sometimes Marcy and Chooch really get along great, like when it’s Sunday Donut Time and Marcy skulks around looking for just a crumb, one tiny taste, oh brother can you spare a morsel. So then it’s all, “Aw look how sweet Marcy and Chooch are, everybody!” But then there are the times when Chooch is sitting at the dining room table, doing his homework, and Marcy sits on the table in front of him, stalking the motion of pencil with her eyes, until eventually she can stand it no longer and lunges at the pencil, but then at the last second, right before pencil/paw contact, she’s like, “Fuck it” and goes for his hand instead. This makes Chooch flip out, and he yells at her and tells her she’s a horrible bitch, so then she moves closer and sits down on his homework with her back toward him and this makes Chooch cry out of frustration and Henry has to try to lure Marcy away from him with treats but she’s like, “Hold on, let a bitch get one more tail-whip in here” and she maliciously and stubbornly slams her tail down right in front of Chooch before jumping off the table and eating the treats Henry left in a Hansel and Gretel trail away from Chooch.
  • Yesterday, I was texting Henry and autocorrect just changed a word to “BTK.”
  • If I just let entire Michael Buble video play on YouTube without turning it off. Am I old or nah.
  • Today I learned that Barb hates most collars, scarves, and other such fashionable garrotes so I think it’s settled that I’m buying her chokers for Christmas.

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  • Chooch and I had an ice cream date a weeks ago with Kristy and Sarah. We met at a parking lot near Oh Yeah! Chooch and I arrived first and were promptly berated by two parking lot security guards who were getting paid to remind assholes like me that this lot was for CUSTOMERS ONLY and not fat pigs who were trying to walk a block away to get ice cream on a cold November night. The problem was that I was unable to back my car out to leave because so many yuppie fuckknobs were pulling into the lot because it’s connected to A WHOLE FOODS down below. It was basically just a state store and Chipotle on the upper level where we parked, but these faux-cops weren’t having outlanders like us take up a fucking spot in their promised land. So we intercepted Kristy and Sarah right before the parking popo had a chance to berate them too, and totally not suspiciously walked away from our car through the parking lot away from the cops, so it looked like maybe we had changed our mind and were going to spend an hour purchasing beverages to help our children fall asleep faster that night, but really we escaped the parking lot at the other end and basically walked a mile out of the way to get ice cream just so we wouldn’t have to drive around looking for street parking. I was going to draw a map/diagram to show you just how harrowing of a detour it was, but I’m too tired for Exhibits. I’ll just tell you that we had to cross a pedestrian bridge and walk down a dark, deserted road and then climb some steps which put us onto the street that we could have easily arrived at had the parking popo not foiled our plans.
    • We played Scrabble over ice cream. Chooch laid down the first word, which was “ego.” Now, I’m not the type of broad who walks around claiming their kid is a prodigy, but in that moment, I was like, “MY KID IS FUCKING BRILLIANT. HE LITERALLY JUST PLAYED EGO.” But then he said, “That’s how you spell it, right? The waffle? ‘Leggo my Eggo’?” So…Meanwhile, Sarah, who is 5, accidentally spelled “tampon” almost. (She was a letter off.) Then we walked back the way we came because I didn’t want to have to walk past the parking lot guards. Kristy was like “Why don’t you just go into Wine and Spirits and but a little bottle of booze, then if they say anything to you, you can show them the receipt” but I said no BECAUSE I REFUSED TO BOW THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS. Instead, we said goodbye to Kristy and Sarah and then Chooch and I slinked back to our car, hunched over, slipping between the front ends of the parked cars and the barrier wall of the parking lot, just so we wouldn’t have to walk out in the open and be all exposed. Like, “HERE WE ARE FELLAS! COMING BACK TO OUR UNLAWFULLY PARKED CAR!” We came home and tried to explain the whole cloak and dagger of it all to Henry, who just smirked at us and said, wait for it, “You idiots.”

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  • Henry had to work on Black Friday so Chooch and I decided to venture out and try this new sandwich shop that opened up down the street in Dormont. It’s called Parker’s and it’s very close to one of my least favorite places in the world: the dreaded DOR-STOP. The Dor-Stop is one of those mediocre diners that got super over-hyped by dumb Guy Fieri and his lame-o Food Network show. I was really excited to flip that place the bird as we turned the corner to go to Parker’s, which is tiny but has some mighty sandwiches, you guys. And an entire veggie section on the menu! Chooch wanted to sit at the counter, and by doing so, we were pulled into numerous conversations with the proprietor and his people. (One was his mom and she was awesome.) Chooch and I both felt like we were part of a club, and WE LOVE TO BE INCLUDED IN THINGS so Parker’s is basically our new favorite place in the whole entire world. (It helps that the sandwiches were wonderful, as well.) But the best part is that Henry wasn’t there so we have been purposely bringing up Parker’s constantly, just to make him feel bad. (I don’t think it’s working though.) Like last week when Chooch burped at dinner and Henry yelled at him, Chooch was like, “Yeah, but the lady at Parker’s said that’s a compliment to the chef” and I was like, “Don’t bother, Chooch. He won’t understand. He wasn’t there.”
    • On the way home from Parker’s that day. Chooch ditched me while we were crossing the street because he decided he wanted to go a different way but I had already started crossing the street so I screamed and felt so paralyzed until finally I remembered how to walk again and turned around. It was touch-and-go there for a minute. I was so mad at him, but then he tripped on the sidewalk and I was like, “YES! HAHAHA THAT’S WHAT YOU GET!” Then I admitted that I had a crush on Parker. “He had those beautiful blue eyes,” I gushed. “Oh my god,” Chooch muttered. And then and then and then!

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  • During the evening of Black Friday, Chooch came downstairs creepily wearing one of my old Lip Service skirts from my goth days. (I use that term loosely. I was more like the Mulatto of the goth scene. Parts of me were goth, but other parts of me were blond, overly-social, with a closetful of Contempo. But I just really liked that goth music, you guys.) “Really Mommy?” Chooch asked in that snotty teenaged-sneer that kids seem to acquiring earlier and earlier these days. “You WORE this!?” Yes, and I also had a dress that said “Fuck” all over it.
    • A few days later, and god only knows why, Chooch and I had a legit argument over who was aware of the existence of goths first. He was all, “You wouldn’t even know about goths if I hadn’t told you!” and I was all, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING? I met my ex-boyfriend IN A GOTH CHATROOM!” and then Henry was all, “Please stop fighting with the 8-year-old.” I think he was talking to Chooch.
  • I’m so sad that next week is the last episode of Serial! I’m not one for podcasts, but like so many other people, I’m obsessed with this one. It’s so fucking intriguing and I know, I know: this isn’t about wrapping everything up nicely, giving the case a Hollywood ending, proving innocence or guilt. But I can’t help but feel strongly that Adnan is innocent. I will admit this to the Internet, I don’t care: I’m one of those people who is very easily swayed and controlled by emotions and feelings over facts and evidence. Like, I’ll find myself yelling at Henry, “BUT HE DOESN’T SOUND LIKE A KILLER! I LIKE HIS VOICE. HE DIDN’T DO IT.” I would make a fucking terrible juror. I mean, all these years later and I still maintain that OJ Simpson is innocent and I will say now what I said to every one of my classmates who booed me when I cheered at the Not Guilty verdict back in high school: someone who was in Back to the Beach could not have killed someone because Back to the Beach is one of my favorite movies.
    • Hey speaking of killers, I got a Xmas card from my death row pen pal the other day and it kind of caught me off guard because I haven’t heard from him in awhile. Maybe almost two years? I admittedly started to pull away from him quite some time ago, way before I even started working at The Law Firm, so it’s been over 5 years since I wrote to him, probably. He just would always ask me to do things for him, place Craigslist ads for private eyes, update his LiveJournal, it was just too much. And then I also had a series of really bad dreams about him too, coming to my house (it was my mom’s house in my dream though; everything always happens there or my Pappap’s house) and seeming all nice at first but then his smile would start to look just a little too sharp , baring just a little too much teeth, and then there’s this moment where we just stand there, frozen, and I turn to run and then there’s a chase, etc etc etc. So yeah, I got that card and was a little frightened, but then I felt guilty for blowing him off. So I went to work and confided in Glenn and Formerly-Mean-Amber. “What did he do?” Glenn asked. “Killed his wife, but he totally didn’t do it,” I casually answered. “And you know this because?” Glenn asked, totally provoking me. “Because he told me….and they never found a body!” I cried defensively. So Glenn and Mild-Tempered-For-Now Amber started to read Greg’s Murderpedia page and almost right away, they both said, “Oh yeah, he did it. He totally did it.”

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  • Shameless (not self) promotion: I bought Chooch this t-shirt from Abstruse Apparel that features Artifex Pereo lyrics and is also educational because, to quote from their site “it’s about a disorder called Body Integrity, which is a neurological and psychological disorder that makes sufferers feel they would be happier living as an amputee. It is typically accompanied by the desire to amputate one or more healthy limb to achieve that end.” So Chooch and I talked about that and he was like, “Great. I hope no one at school asks me what this means” and I was like, ‘You’re in 3rd grade. If it doesn’t have Minecraft on it, ain’t no one sayin’ shit to you about your shirt.”
  • Today, Credit Karma emailed me to tell me that my credit score has gone from GTFO to Poor. #progress

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  • I found this old picture of Nicotina (Speck, to some of you) on the computer, so Henry printed it out and hung it on the cat wall. Yesterday marked 3 years since she died unexpectedly and I’ll tell you, I miss that furry brat every day. Chooch actually still can’t look at her picture without straight sobbing. I’m not even exaggerating a little bit. That kid’s world was rocked when she died. Speck was the one that Chooch took to immediately once he went from being sluggish newborn to somewhat-alert human. I hope the pictures help him one day, though, like they help me.
  • I got an email from Dark Matter Coffee the other day while we were all in the car, going god knows where, and I said, “Just seeing their logo makes me want to cry.” And then as I looked at Henry to say that it reminds me of Riot Fest, I actually did start to cry and Henry of the Cold-Hearted Snake Clan made some disgusted groan and mumbled, “Oh my god.” I can’t help it! I miss Riot Fest and I honestly think about it every single day because I have problems with letting go.

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  • It’s hard to believe that Christmas card season is almost done for this year. Our shop did well this year! People seemed to really respond well to the new sparkly card stock we’ve been using. I know it’s niche and seems pretty stupid, but these cards are my babies and it makes me feel kind of secretly smug because one of the many career paths my grandma tried to bulldoze for me was a card designer at Hallmark. Can you even imagine? These cards are the one thing that I don’t seem to get burnt out on. Like, I’ll go for months grudgingly going through the motions with blogging (I mean, what? You could tell? Shocker!) and I’ll go through months without picking up my camera or YEARS without dipping a brush in paint, but man—designing cards really relaxes me.
    • So weird, but Janna and I are currently texting right now about getting burnt out by binge-watching TV shows and I admitted that I’m like the only person in the world who didn’t finish Orange Is the New Black because I literally just quit giving a shit halfway through the second season and I think it’s because I don’t like that Netflix does that, just releases an entire season like that, because I need something to look forward to, the way The Walking Dead has given people a reason to finally look forward to the dreaded Sunday night.
  • Big ups to Terri for tipping me off to A Pregnant Light, which is currently motivating me to finish this pointless blog post so I can go to dumb bed!
  • WE’RE LEAVING FOR PHILLY AFTER WORK TOMORROW! Of course, I work late shift tomorrow, so that means we’re not leaving until after 8:30. But still! I get to see Terri, Christian, Circa Survive, and the Mutter Museum! OK GOODNIGHT!!!

  6 Responses to “Thursday Tirade of THOUGHTS”

  1. I had a feeling you would like A Pregnant Light. I’m glad that you do.

    I’m can’t wait for tomorrow! I haven’t been this excited about going grocery shopping and cooking in a while :)

  2. I got super stuck on trying to imagine what A Pregnant Light could be and them being a band never even crossed my mind. I was like, night light? Snack? Book series?

  3. those parking nazis there are THE WORST. I have always parked there to go anywhere on s highland and now they have completely ruined it for me. i would have never even thought to sneak out the back way! although I’d probably be terrified they would see me and tow my car. I even (embarrassingly) tried to flirt with the guy once to get him to say he wouldn’t tow me but he wasn’t falling for it. haha.

  4. I need to listen to Serial. I’m a podcast freak, so I’m surprised I haven’t listened to it yet. I was on OJ’s side too. I remember sitting in my Sociology class listening to the verdict and being happy it wasn’t guilt. Seeing what his life has become has made me think differently though. Karma is a bitch even if he didn’t technically do it.

    I’m glad to hear that your cards did well this year – good job!

    • I honestly didn’t think I would care much for Serial. I’m not a Podcast person, and I watch and read a lot of true crime things, so I really couldn’t imagine that this particular thing could offer me anything I wasn’t already getting, if that makes sense. But goddamn, I was hooked within minutes. Definitely give it a listen!

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