I’ve been out and about the past few days. Thursday, Christina and I went to Cleveland to see Brand New and Manchester Orchestra. Let’s just say it was not the best of times. We came back to Pittsburgh on Friday and I sacrificed an entire hockey period to go to Hundred Acres Manor, one of several over-priced haunted houses in the area. At least we didn’t get herded through with one of the many groups of obnoxious teenagers standing in line with us, and there were a few good scares, but there was a fucking chainsaw guy in the maze near the end and let me tell you, I hate chainsaw guys. In fact, one time last summer, we were driving around in a country-ish area and somewhere in the woods I heard the rev of a motor and screamed so loud. Henry goes, “That was a dirt bike, you asshole, not Leatherface” because he knows me well enough to understand why I freaked.
So this piece of shit chainsaw guy is pacing around near the maze’s exit and like frightened rabbits, we keep backtracking because neither we, nor the two girls with us, want to meet this fucker face-on. But finally, I’m like, “This is fucking ridiculous. Doesn’t he know the fucking Penguins are playing?” So I used Christina as a SWAT shield and we barrelled through. Never did run into him, but the fumes from his ‘saw made my stomach hurt and I considered suing. Or at least writing a letter. Because you know, I love writing a good letter.
Keeping with the theme of scary things, Henry and I went to my friend Lisa’s wedding yesterday. Weddings make me feel so nervous. I think it’s the whole church aspect. But I didn’t implode, dissolve into a mound of sinful ashes, or contract a loud case of hiccups. What I did do, however, was lose my shit when Lisa and her dad appeared at the beginning of the aisle, when I saw that she was crying. I did NOT want to cry. I kept saying I was going to. But that was all it took and then I was panicking because I didn’t bring tissues and what if my nose started to run or worse, BLEED, because I’ve never had a bloody nose in my entire life but that would be my luck to celebrate my first nose bleed while God is looking down on Lisa and Matt but then I started thinking that if I ever get married (will have to dump Henry first for that to ever happen), how fucking awesomely gory would it be to get a bloody nose while all a’mermaid in a white dress? I’m sure the list of volunteers to punch me in the face on my wedding day would be staggering.
And it made me laugh a little, because the first encounter I ever had with Lisa was at the 8th grade Halloween dance, when she was threatening to give me a bloody nose because I was bullying one of her friends. I remember not feeling too threatened, but I’ve always gotten weak-kneed thinking about my nose bleeding so I was like, “Great, thanks for ruining this already lame dance with that thought, Lisa.” Somehow, she and I became friends and seventeen years later, I’m sitting in a church pew, listening to a minister Freudian-slip about husbands sacrificing their wives instead of lives, and freaking out that my nose is going to spontanteously hose Lisa into a bridal Carrie when I meet her in the receiving line.
Also, I’m expecting my period so I guess I’ve just had blood on the brain lately. Well, that and all the amateur blood transfusions I got lined up for this week.