One March Week 

I have really been phoning it in lately. Yes, I’m aware. But this is not going to be the post that changes any of that. Just kind of stating the obvious I guess.

Here are some pictures of things that happened this past week.

We went rollerskating on Saturday. I really thought that this was going to be the winter where we would get back into the skating game, but it just wasn’t to be. Our weekends have been pretty full, but when I realized that nothing was going on Saturday, I told Henry that this is what we would be doing and, as he tucked his dick between his legs, nodded obediently. Kara and Harland met us there, so that was fun even though I barely got to talk to Kara because hello, I’m too busy being a goddamn dream on wheels out there, OK?

And Henry was sad because he apparently hurt his foot in another pallet-related accident (WTF goes on at the Faygo Plant!?) so he did not rent skates and instead leaned against the wall and watched everyone else whirrr past under the flashing lights. God, cry me a river of Dorothy Hamill tears.

We are definitely done with Neville Rollerdrome and have chosen Romp-n-Roll as our new headquarters. It’s a pretty great spot and just feels more roller-rinky than Neville. The sad reality is that really no matter where we go, we’re going to be terrorized by kids who can’t skate, so I’m trying to just get over that.

I got to talk to Kara for about five minutes when I finally came off the rink for hydration. Apparently, she had Harland in the side room, which is kind of like a mini-rink except that there are pool tables in the middle. Either way, it’s a good spot for non-skaters to practice, so she was trying to help Harland when Professional Skater Henry stepped in and began instructing him, because even when he’s not skating, he has to remind everyone that he’s a better skater than me, god fucking dammit.

Highlights:

• Some dickhead came out onto the rink with candy and spilled it, which subsequently led to people skating over bits of Skittles and grinding it into the floor. So the DJ stopped the music, turned on the lights, and told everyone to stop where they were. He explained the sitch and asked us if we could all take a few minutes to look around where we were stopped and see if we could find any candy shards and if so, to please dump it into the hands of a skate guard or take it to the DJ booth. This way, they wouldn’t have to shut down the session for however long it took them to clean the whole rink. I was so excited because I FOUND ONE RIGHT WHERE I HAD STOPPED! It was orange and I almost fell when I went to pick it up, but it was worth it for the opportunity to triumphantly glide over to the DJ booth and announce with authority, “I FOUND THIS.” On my way there, I passed Henry in the snack room and shot my hand up in the air so he could see my candied treasure. Later, he told me he didn’t know what I was doing. Fuck you, Henry.
• Not falling.
• No terrible Goldilocks issues with the rental skates.
• The DJ starts out the session with some old school jams, and that makes me happy. Of course, it veers into hott urban joints after that, with some T.Swift sprinkled in, but what can you do. I also appreciated that he’s on a first-name basis with the singers. He’d be all, “Next up, here’s Sammmmmmm” and it would be some Sam Smith song (they all kind of sound the same to me). Or “Heyy! It’s time for some Ed.” And then Ed Sheeran would soundtrack my hazardous laps around a rinkful of birthday party-goers who were having their hands held by their parents WHO DID NOT HAVE SKATES ON. Ugh, people shouldn’t be allowed on the rink without skates. Wait…hold on…

Lowlights:

• PEOPLE WERE ON THE RINK WITHOUT SKATES! And one woman had her BABY STROLLER OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RINK. I couldn’t even wrap my head around this. If this was Neville, she’d have had a major whistle blown at her skanky suburban ass.
• When Henry didn’t know I found one of the candy perps. :(
• Their rink policing SUCKS. I told Kara I want to be a rink ref and she was like, “But then you’d have to yell at people all day” and I was like, “INORITE!? AND BLOW A WHISTLE.”
• Some little bitch in a Snow White dress nearly killed me probably the same amount of times she watches Frozen in a week. I honestly almost shoved her once because BITCH MOVE OUT THE WAY.
• People are allowed to have their phones on the rink and every time I saw someone take a selfie-in-motion, I had to fight the urge to shoulder them into the wall.
• Also, some people would congregate in small, idle groups on the rink, not even near the walls, but right in the prime skating path, and they would just stand there and TALK. Like they were IN A PARK PAVILION. Or near a WATER COOLER. Unacceptable.

After skating, we ate dinner at some old folks joint in Glenshaw called The Boulevard and it was really quaint! Totally one of those places where all the old people have standing relationships with the waitstaff.  “Why haven’t we ever eaten here before?” I wondered out loud, and Henry answered, “Because we’re never in Glenshaw?” And Henry was one of the youngest people there!

Then I was just sad that we’re not regulars anywhere.

Sunday chin-scratches. I had a dream a few weeks ago that Marcy had a horse penis and also had this huge growth on her stomach which turned out to be a pug. Like, an entire dog just hanging off her stomach. I guess it’s because I’ve been so stressed out because she’s old and has breast cancer and everyday I’m like IS SHE BREATHING!? And Henry will calmly answer, “Yes, Erin. She was also trying to sleep but your big mouth just woke her up.”

The other night, Marcy was sitting on the couch with us and I kept saying, “I love you!” to her in a panoply of accents and strangulated voices. “Aren’t you glad that I keep all of my voices on lock while I’m at work so that I can come home and unleash them all over the house?” I asked Henry.

“Yeah. Totally,” he sighed.

Henry bought me this shirt at the Pierce the Veil show a few weeks ago. <3

Ironing Perler bead creations: What is Henry’s life.

Behold the most majestic ground-sheath. Chooch has come to terms with it and even helped me unroll it. Henry was just like, “I hope Marcy pees on it.” Oh OK, as if you’re not going to take your clothes off and roll around on this when no one’s home, Henry. That’s not something you would do AT ALL.

Chooch hijacked Henry’s phone last night when he stupidly went to bed early, and hoo boy did we have some fun. Mostly we just terrorized people on Instagram. Chooch went to his favorite YouTuber’s Instagram page and we left him all kinds of love notes from Henry (jrobber1 if you feel some sick need to follow him on there). Then, after posting several selfies, Chooch started following horrible people on Henry’s behalf.

This morning, I was talking to Henry on my walk to the trolley and he blurted out, “You two are assholes.” I tried to play dumb, which is usually is pretty easy for me, because I’m naturally dumb, but he barked, “Oh don’t play dumb. I know what you guys did. I knew as soon as I opened Instagram this morning and Kim Kardashian’s boobs were everywhere.” Also, his alarm didn’t go off, so we’re getting blamed for that now, too.

I just started cracking up over this while I was getting stuff off the printer, because not only am I prone to laughing alone at  my desk, but also while traveling to other parts of the floor. And it’s probably not even really that funny, but you should know that lately I have been fluctuating between laughing until I have to puke, to crying until I have to puke. OK, that’s not just “lately.” That’s “always.”

Speaking of hyper-psychotic laughter, we’re all moving our shit to our new spaces today and I was like, “Hmm, why the hell do I have a sewing kit in this box?” And then I remembered someone gave it to me when I was making my Glenn garland for my office Christmas tree a few years ago. O MEMRIEZ.

I was just finishing up this Dahmer painting to join the others in the set* when Chooch strode over and said, “I want that. Can I have it? PLEASE LET ME KEEP IT!”

“What, why? It’s—”

“Jeffrey Dahmer, I know! And I want it,” he cried. So, I guess Dahmer is going on Chooch’s wall and I’ll just make another.

*Fish and Manson so far—I’m trying to paint as many as I can so I can incorporate them into new cards for my serial killer card shop. I need a new “everyday card” line.)

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In other news, one of my co-workers, Marlene, was moving into her new desk yesterday and suddenly screamed. Her scream was then followed by an accusatory, “ERIN!!!” I slowly got up from my desk and said, “Yeah, I think I know what this is about….” Apparently, there was a  leftover bloody finger in one of the drawers from last Halloween’s scavenger hunt. So Marlene suggested that we put it in Debby’s drawer. Today, it was back in Marlene’s drawer and she immediately accused me! I was like, “I SWEAR I DIDN’T DO IT!” so the next obvious suspect in line is always Glenn, who wasn’t here yet. Marlene marched over to his desk and put it in his jar of peanuts.

“Great, he’s not going to think that I did that AT ALL,” I said. And of course, I got blamed for it. I told Marlene and she was like, “I hate to break it to you, Erin, but everyone ALWAYS thinks it’s you!”

“BUT LOOK AT THIS FACE!” I cried, pulling it into the most angelic visage of innocence I could muster.

“THAT is why we always think it’s you!” Marlene laughed.

And then I went into Wendy’s office and she was crying because her sister sent her some sad song and then I started crying because I saw Wendy crying and tears are contagious.

Speaking of crying! I’m going to see Mike+the Mechanics tonight and I said to Glenn, “When they play Silent Running tonight, and YOU KNOW THAT THEY WILL PLAY SILENT RUNNING TONIGHT, I’m going to cry so hard.”

“Good to know,” he mumbled. He’s just mad because he had to take my late shift tonight. SO THAT I CAN CRY AT THE MIKE+THE MECHANICS SHOW!

Friends, I am more Sybil than usual. I think I need some sort of Mexican home remedy.