Dear Pammy, here we are on the last Wednesday of the saddest month. Once we tear off the January page from the calendar and burn it (and maybe a righteous bigot just for funsies) in a back alley bonfire, I start to feel a little better. One day at a time. But you know, before that happens, I have to do what all sane people do and purposely compound my crippling sads by watching the finale of a series that has been a part of my life for like 12 years.* Yeah, I finally bit the bullet and powered through the remaining episodes of the last season of The Walking Dead and holy shit, ouchie, wah. That was a rough ride. My throat actually hurts a little bit today and I’m certain it’s from the painful crying I did last night during the last two episodes.
*(Wait, is this for real? Chooch was literally 4 years old when that show debuted and we watched it together every Sunday night?! I mean, he was already obsessed with Night of the Living Dead way before that – “waaay before that” at the old-ass age of 2, lol – so I guess this felt normal at the time but I’m having a weird moment in present day, looking back on this. I wonder if he ever had nightmares?! But now I’m really spiraling out because I literally can’t remember a single time Chooch ever woke crying and saying he had a nightmare?! I just asked Henry if he can think of a time and he said no without even thinking because he is such a great contributor to conversations.)
You know, I dumped this show off and on over the years and kept finding myself lost or bored because I had the attention span of a, a, well, a walker probably. Or the average American. And I know it’s like SO COO COO COO to hate on The Walking Dead and the people who watch it because no one wants to just let anyone live their damn lives these days, but I don’t really care. I will wear a DARYL DIXON shirt straight out of my house tomorrow, watch me.
(Maybe not tomorrow because I have to get one first.)
Also adding to my stress is Valentine season. I think that I’m not cut out to be an Etsy seller, lol. My heart has not been in it at all this season. I was asked to make a couple of custom cards and I was actually like, “UGH, FINE” about it, which is so dumb because once I sat down and opened Photoshop, I was into it. But my creativity is tapped out these days/months/years.
I think I need more socialization. I allegedly have plans on Saturday with a new friend which is always scary and exciting and I really hope it pans out, plus I have at least two dinner dates in February. But you know, that’s big Erin energy, being all BOO HOO I’M SO LONELY and then doing the bare minimum to cultivate friendships.
The only thing giving me joy lately, aside from cats and squirrels, is working on the attic refresh! It’s really coming along so slowly since Henry only has time/energy to put into it on weekends and god forbid I should, what, paint by myself!? Ha. Can you imagine. Ha.
(Henry would never let this happen anyway.)
I should have waited to do an attic update on Sunday because we ended up getting some more stuff done!
LIKE THIS! I DID IT ALL BY MYSELF!! We had to go to the dreaded HOBBY LOBBY to get the fun fur Saturday night and as we were walking toward the check-out, some guy in the back of the store yelled very loudly and deeply, just one loud-ass staccato scream punching through the Jesus-y atmosphere. Everyone near us abruptly stopped and quieted down for approx. 2 seconds.
“Let’s go This is why I avoid shopping at Century III!” one suburban Yinzer mom said to her shopping mates, prompting me to follow suit.
“You can go out to the car, I’ll stay and buy this,” Henry said, handing me the car key.
“NO, JUST FORGET IT, LET’S LEAVE,” I hissed, my entire body feeling like fucking ice was coursing through my veins and I waited to start hearing gunfire. Seriously. FUCK YOU, AMERICA. FUCK YOU, GUNS. Every time we walk out of the house: will we get shot today?
So what did I do? Big courageous baby Erin took the keys and ran, leaving Henry inside.
Turned out to be a bunch of kids fucking around and Henry paid for the fun fur and joined me in the parking lot without incident. But still, I couldn’t get my heart rate down for a while after that. I hate this.
Henry spent most of Saturday and Sunday working on the checkerboard wall and cussing me out in very inventive ways. I think he and Chooch thought it was going to look like shit but I had a very clear vision in my head…
When will they learn to trust me!? I think it turned out amazingly! It’s a fucking mood and I canNOT wait to finish this little nook! I decided to only do the checks on the right side. The left side is going to stay solid yellow, filled with art. The checkerboard is going to stay is – why gild the lily, as Teresa Strasser said once on an episode of While You Were Out and it has remained lodged in my head ever since. It was the first time I had ever heard that saying and according to Chooch, I say it “all the time” which I think is a tad hyperbolic but whatev. Hopefully it comes up the next time I’m playing trivia on the radio.
Oh in addition to my little monster wall, which was an OFF THE CUFF design idea, I coated the top of this short wall with iridescent glitter shards that I spotted on a rack behind an old ass Michaels employee when Henry was interrogated him on the fun fur options last Saturday. I had no idea at the time what I was going to do with it but I snatched up a small pack of it and formulated a game plan on the way home.
I can only imagine the twitches that my interior design choices give some poeple when they look at this but listen, Linda: I rent this piece of shit house and if I’m going to be slowly dying here, I’d prefer it to not be surrounded by white walls.
(OMG please do not let this be the place where I die LOL ugh.)
I want to put some small/fun cuckoo clocks on this little wall.
This is all I have going for me right now, and I’m having fun with so leave me alone.
Just kidding, don’t leave me alone I’m so bored and lonely lol omg.