Jun 102016

Forgive me Father, it has been x-number of days since my last bullet point post. I was going to just make up a number because I don’t feel like counting, but that would be LYING, and I can’t LIE while I’m blog confession.

Everyone knows that.

  • Lady on the trolley behind me this morning made some annoyed exclamation when a lady came on and said something too loudly, but now this same lady is on the PHONE right behind my head and she is so fucking abrasive and I’m like “Hey remember when you thought that other lady was being loud? Well….” DONT TALK ON THE PHONE ON PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION. No one wants to hear about your relaxing vacation and how you think you have a bug now.
    • From what I gathered though, some baby had been born and then there were no pictures of Laura and Ricky holding the baby and Trolley Lady kept muttering, “NO, THAT’S WEIRD. THAT SOUNDS WEIRD TO ME. THERE’S SOMETHING STRANGE ABOUT THAT.”
  • So last week, Henry’s Work Bromance told him that if the Pens/Sharks series went past 4 games, then he’s take Henry to Game 5 with him, since his wife gets tickets from work or something. I fucking threw a fit so hard that I almost had another baby, that’s how hard my body was contracting. The sheer incredulity of this proposal had literal foam seeping past my lips. Why should HENRY get to go to game 5 when he can’t even stay awake for an entire game? When he doesn’t care about watching the regular season games with me? WHEN HE CALLS IT OFFSIDES WHEN ANY REAL HOCKEY FAC KNOWS IT’S OFFSIDE?!  Ugh!! “And so I told him that if he goes, I will never talk to him again!” I huffed at work. “Sounds like a win/win to me,” Glenn said in his typical lifeless cadence.


  • Penelope is super needy in the morning. The rest of the day, forget about it—she wants nothing to do with the humans. But man, in the mornings when I’m trying to get ready for work, she is all over me, like, “Hey lady, you don’t have enough cat fur on your wardrobe. I can help you with that.” I almost missed the stupid trolley shuttle the other morning because I had to run back into the house to fashion an impromptu fur-removal apparatus out of packing tape when I realized, after walking out into the bright light of day, how much fur was on my dumb pants.

  • Hockey. I can’t stand it. Ugh, that’s a lie. I love it. But my fucking heart, man. The Penguins had a chance to clinch last night, to win the fucking Stanley Cup here at home, but things did not go as planned, because you can’t make plans when there are HOCKEY GODS watching diligently from above with steepled fingers. So you know what’s going to happen? I’ll tell you what is going to happen: the Penguins are win it in game 6 in San Jose. And do you know where I will be? At the House of Blues in Cleveland, trying to divide my attention between Pens alerts on my phone and Pierce the Veil performing their new album in its entirety right in front of me. Yep. The girl who watches every fucking regular season game (except for when she’s at a show, but even then she’s constantly checking her phone) is going to miss game 6 of the Stanley Cup finals.
    • DON’T GET IT TWISTED: I’m not saying I want them to lose so that I can be home to watch a game 7! No way. Get it done in San Jose, please. OMG.
    • Guess who didn’t go to game 5, by the way? HAHAHAHA. Not Henry, and not his work bromance either! Apparently work bromance’s wife was angry at him for not getting his hair cut so she ended up using the tickets anyway and guess who went to bed before the second period was over? HINT: Not me, not Chooch, not the dumb cats.

  • NERD ALERT: On the way to Michigan a few weeks ago, Chooch practiced his Latin roots. Henry was all, “Have your mom help you, she took Latin.” Taking Latin and actually knowing Latin are not the same! I’m actually trying to find someone to translate “One Sixteen” for me because I don’t know if “One” should be Unum or Unus. And I mean, that’s pretty basic Latin 101 bullshit right there.
  • The other night, Chooch pulled a Ziplock bag out of his backpack and I cried, “IS THAT WEED!?” “Yeah, it’s weed. Shaped like bread,” he said with an eye-roll. SORRY. MY EYES ARE BAD, REMEMBER.

  • That time Chooch had a fan at some family restaurant in Howell, MI. The dad kept trying to get the baby to turn around and apologized to us. I was like, “Pfft, it’s fine; this one used to do that too.” And Henry mumbled, “He still does.”
    • I was only being nice and personable because this was The Breakfast before Bled Fest.
      • Ugh, I miss you Bled Fest. </3

  •  I “published” issue #3 of the department ‘zine a few weeks ago and it turned into a Big Thing. Glenn recently got chickens and I thought that would be a fun activity for the ‘zine — find how many chickens are hidden in there. I had all sorts of chickens: ones that I drew, real chickens photoshopped in places where dogs and wedding bouquets should have been, a bucket of KFC, etc. So Lou came over and proudly announced that he had the correct answer and that I should add his name to the drawing I was having. Except that he was way off, because he was only counting the actual pictures and not the words (there were numerous chicken shout-outs!), so Lou threw a fit and said that the instructions were unclear and Glenn piped up that my contest was flawed and I was like, “MAYBE WE SHOULDN’T HAVE ANY MORE CONTESTS AT ALL THEN.” Ugh, this is what I get for telling lawyers to count chickens.
    • The moral of the story is: make shit as easy as possible or be prepared for the ensuing uproar.
      • Because of Lou, I had to start including ALL ANSWERS in the drawing, whether they were correct or not. I call it the Lou Clause.
        • Is that what clause means? I’m not a lawyer, lul.
  • Speaking of lawyers, Todd said that he’s going to represent Glenn when Glenn sues me and for some reason this made me laugh to the point of tears.
  • The other day, I went for a lunchtime stroll with my old work friend Debbie! She only just works right across the bridge from our building but I don’t see her nearly enough. We went to Market Square and there were all these giant games set up, so we decided to play giant Kerplunk. Look, I’m not trying to brag or anything, but I was so much better than the two little girls I was playing against.


  • Henry said he doesn’t want to add anything to this bulletpoint extravaganza.


  • Succulent serial killer. ^^^^

  • Chooch took a stupid poll on Facebook to see which cat everyone thought was the cutest and of course almost everyone voted for DREW either because they know Chooch well enough to know that Drew is HIS cat and Penelope is MY cat, and also he used the worst, most blurry photo of Penelope. We had a legit fight over this and he was so smug and I cried.
    • But if this is a real contest, then come on, Marcy all day, err’day.
      • RIP, Marcy :(

  • The above excerpt is from a blog post 2 years ago when I was just as bad at parenting as I am today. THIS IS LIKE A BLOG WITHIN A BLOG, WHOA.
  • I was telling Lauren here at work that even before the hockey game started last night, I sat down on the couch and began weeping. Like, straight sobbing, you guys. Nerves, stress. Unwavering and unabashed love for the Penguins. It all just got to me and the emotions bubbled over. “You know what’s funny?” Todd piped up from two desks back. “The same thing happened to me.” SUCH A JERK.

  • This was Drew’s reaction to the SHOPVAC Henry had to bring up from the basement in order to clean up all of the DIRT AND PLANT CARNAGE she created in the living room. I texted this picture to Wendy and she was like, “the fuck is a shot vac?” because auto-correct changed it, and she thought I was literally torturing my cat by shooting things at her. Then I realized it was spelled like that on Instagram too, so…great.
  • I just got home from dinner with Barb, Jeannie, and Wendy. We were originally supposed to go to DeBlasio’s but then Wendy changed everything up at the last minute because a tunnel was going to be closed or something so we ended up going to Olive Garden instead and Jeannie was a big crybaby about chain restaurants but then was thoroughly impressed that the tables there are equipped with electronic thingies that you can order/pay/call your server/play games on, and Wendy was all, “Oh yeah, Red Robin has those too.” And Jeannie was all, “Oh wow, another chain restaurant.” And then I accidentally called our server and we all panicked but when she got there (like 10 minutes later, we clearly weren’t a priority), I blamed it on Barb. Barb just looks like the type of person who would accidentally push a call button. And then Wendy went to the rest room and we all stole Summer’s snacks because I was raving about how I used to eat them all the time when Chooch was a baby so then everyone had to try them. Puffs are the bomb, man. Summer was not thrilled with us.

  • A few days ago, I had arrived to work just in time to see a large truck too long to make the turn next to my building. Henry would have had an erection if he had been there to help him.
  • Henry and I wanted a Genesis documentary last Sunday night and it really put me in a lingering zone. I’ve seen Phil Collins solo, but never Genesis, and maybe that’s a good thing because I might actually drown on my tears and die. It could happen. You probably have never seen me cry over music.
  • I went to lunch today with one of the groups in our department and the Muhammed Ali funeral procession was on all of the TVs the entire time and that was pretty morbid but we still couldn’t stop looking.
  • Chooch just went outside to “think about life.” That lasted literally 2 seconds before he came bounding back in and screamed, “DADDY LET’S PLAY A GAME.” Monday is his last day of school. 4th grade was fucking terrible (not academically, at least) and I’m so ready for it to be over.

And now I leave you with #SexyCarWash:

Henry doesn't approve of "Sexy Car Wash."

A post shared by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin) on

  2 Responses to “Hockey & Zines & the In Betweens”

  1. I want to know who made the last day of school on a Monday.
    We’re skipping and going to Sandcastle. Bully to Monday’ :-p

  2. Two things that made me lose it so bad in this post:

    “Apparently work bromance’s wife was angry at him for not getting his hair cut so she ended up using the tickets anyway”

    “Glenn recently got chickens”

    Did he get them from a breeder? Is Glenn a farmer? Don’t you need a license to keep chickens in Pittsburgh? Did he name them? Did he build a coop for them? Is he keeping them for eggs only, or pets, or both? Do they wake him up early?

    I am so happy you put this in the department zine! Everyone needs to know!

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