Nov 232017
 

For my obligatory Thanksgiving bullshit post this year, I am obviously going to say that I’m thankful for Kpop, le duh. This morning, I was talking to Henry about it, how much better the concert experiences have been than the ones I’m used to, how all of the fans are so nice, how it feels like I finally belong somewhere, and I started crying so hard, haha. Henry patted my leg and said, “OK, take it easy.” I mean, all of this is in addition to the fact that I have literally lost 25 pounds just by dancing to Kpop and eating kimchi every day. Whoever would have thought. My life has always been driven by music, since I was a little kid, but I think it’s safe to say that this is the most fun, healthy, and healing it’s ever been for me.

More specifically, on this Thanksgiving Day 2017, I am giving thanks for the beautiful Lee Taemin, aka BIAS WRECKER. He released his second solo album last month and it has been giving me life these last few weeks, especially while I have been sick (physically and mentally — it’s been rough in my head since Halloween). There have been times when I’m getting ready for work in the morning and take a break to sit in the bed and cry to one of his songs – I don’t typically like the slower/ballad-y kpop songs but his are pure art and make me feel like I’m being wrapped up like kimbap, which I’ve needed these last few weeks because sometimes, even when I’m in a roomful of people, I still feel alone. It’s been nice to have something to latch on to.

And no, I don’t need him to sing this in English; it brings tears to my eyes just the way it is. Not as much as this one does though:

This is not hyperbolic: I started thinking, just thinking about this song at work the other day and had to lowkey slip into the bathroom because I couldn’t stop crying. I’m wrecked.

161010 Weekly Idol updates #Shinee #Taemin

Things I love about Taemin: the way he pronounces “j”/”ch” sounds (Henry thinks this is absurd and says he can’t hear it, no matter how many times I play “Press Your Number”), his intricate & subtle 1980s jazz dance moves (he’s one of the best dancers in Kpop PLEASE WATCH THAT VIDEO UP THERE; I watch it 87 times a day), his mature silken voice, obviously his perfect fucking face good lord help.

Hot damn, Lee Taemin! (4/4) OHH MYYYY GOD OMG OH MY GODDDDD OMG I CANT OH GOD HE SO FINE!!!

Chris and Monica stopped by last Monday and they can attest that the only thing that played on the TV during the hour they were here was Taemin. At one point, Monica commented on his shoes and I was like, “Oh, I never noticed. I literally only ever look at his face….”

Henry doesn’t like Taemin because he feels threatened by his beauty but don’t worry – Chooch said he will go see him with me if he ever does a North American tour so I guess I better start saving up!

(I just told Chooch that today I’m thankful for Taemin and he rolled his eyes so hard and walked away. So maybe I’ll be going to see him alone after all. VIP FOR ME THEN.)

Um, I guess I’m also thankful for Henry and Chooch, too (for not implementing any sort of kpop ban in the house and for Henry having the best Erin Needs Tampons intuition.)

Nov 012017
 

Halloween is my favorite day of the year. Literally everyone knows this about me. Every January, I apply my floating holiday to October 31st so that I can spend the day doing all the spooky things I want. But this year was just, not right. Actually, the whole month of October didn’t feel like October to me. Even going to haunted houses — I had fun at each one I went to, but it wasn’t the same. Something was off. The weather was weird. People didn’t seem as stoked.

Even though I had every intention of yesterday being great, it missed the mark. By like, a lot. My biggest mistake is that instead of watching horror movies all day long as intended, I watched the news. The news is scarier than any horror movie, you could argue, but you know…way more real. (Unless you’re into the fake kind.) So I oscillated between high-anxiety, fury, crippling fear, and numbing sadness.

All day long, with a few coffee and exercise breaks.

By the time Chooch came home from school, I was over everything. I could barely even help him finish his costume, which was another stressor in and of itself. Since he’s in sixth grade now, I figured that the days of pouring all we’ve got into his costumes are all but faded memories now. I told him he had to choose something simple, and at first he was going to be Trump Looking at the Eclipse, which I was on board with until I remembered that he would be strutting around in public like that and Brookline seems to be kind of a mixed bag, politically, so did I really want my kid to be inciting any sort of strong feels?

Sucks, because that costume could have ruled! (Maybe we’ll just have to do a Trump meme-inspired photoshoot someday soon.)

Anyway, it was really getting down to the wire and I didn’t want to cop out and buy him something at the Halloween store, so I said, “YOU LIVE IN A HOUSE FULL OF MASKS AND PROPS, PICK SOMETHING AND WE’LL GO FROM THERE.”

So, he went as a hot dog.

Chooch said that all the people loved it and thought it was funny but of course I had a million issues with it because even though I’m technically “retired” from this shit now that he’s older, my Type A’ness still comes out full force.

Once you get to sixth grade, just a mask will do. Happy Halloween. #hotdog #retiredfromcostumemaking

A post shared by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin) on

I didn’t go trick or treating with him though, for the first time ever. He went with his brothers and baby nephews instead and I was sad but I guess that’s life so what the fuck ever. So then my plan was pizza and Stranger Things (we’re only halfway through this new season because we’re slow TV-viewers) but that didn’t work out either so instead it was soju and hot bath. And to be honest, I don’t know why I even put so much stock into this one day when really, everyday is Halloween for people like me. I don’t even really do that much different on October 31st.

I don’t know.

I had a really bad day.

Halloween felt ruined on so many levels.

And you know it must have been bad because I came back from lunch today and there was a big “I Love You” balloon and flowers on my desk. Henry and I are not send-and-receive flower types of people, so this was weird and I didn’t know how to react so I just mumbled something self-deprecating and then found something to hold the balloon down on my desk so it would stop drawing attention to me like a buoyant beacon of “What Did Henry Do?” Like one of those search lights or sky beams that haunted houses use to attract crowds from afar. Come to Erin’s desk and find out who would possibly send her flowers!

But realizing I could turn my empty BIGBANG iced tea bottles into tiny vases was a game changer. Now I like having flowers sent me to at work. Thanks, Henry. Even though now people are asking me what happened to make you send me flowers and that’s not awkward. I’m just going to start responding with “he got the milkmaid pregnant.”

So I think tonight I’m going to go home and just listen to Kpop all night and pretend like the world isn’t on fire. Either that or I’m moving to a prairie and throwing my phone into a gorge.

 

Oct 052017
 

Well guys, it’s that time of year again! As usual, I was waffling: did I or I didn’t want to decorate for Halloween at work? It takes a lot of mental energy out of me, but I had a few ideas that I came up with several months ago, so I did a quick inventory of the things I’d have to actually spend money on because that’s a huge factor: the more I already have on hand, the more inclined I am to put the effort in.

I did a quick Goodwill and craft store run Tuesday night and $5 later, I had everything I needed to get the four offices decorated.  Some of the offices required $0!

OK, first up is Terry’s office. This was the first one that I came up with a few months ago and if only you could have been there when I excitedly spun around in my chair to tell Glenn…

“Pet SemaTERRY, get it Glenn? SemaTERRY? Because his name is TERRY?!” I squealed.

“Yeah, I get it,” he mumbled. Just jealous that he didn’t think of it first, that’s all.

Anyway, this one required $0. I inherited those tombstones from Barb years ago and they’re actually mainstays on my desk. The stuffed cat is Chooch’s (“Please don’t rip it up or put blood on it!” he begged) and that sign was made be me demonstrating my awesome cardboard box-ripping skills.

I can’t tell if Terry likes it or not. He hasn’t said anything. Glenn disappeared from his desk at one point the day I decorated this and when he came back I yelled, “WHAT, WERE YOU TALKING TO TERRY!? DOES HE LIKE HIS OFFICE” and he was like, “NO I WASN’T TALKING TO TERRY.”

Honestly though, I was so giddy about this one all day. It was so stupid in its simplicity, yet so PERFECTLY PUNNY.

OMG this next one was one that I wanted to do last year but I ran out of time:

My hands felt arthritic by the time I was done cutting those branches out. When I was taping them up the next morning, my coworker Amanda was like, “Let me guess—Children of the Corn!” and I was like “NO AMANDA I DID THAT ONE LAST YEAR, DO I LOOK LIKE SOMEONE WHO WOULD REUSE AN IDEA?!” Ugh, god.

The worst part about this is that I came in 30 minutes early on Wednesday to decorate and I was SO PROUD OF MYSELF and couldn’t wait for Aaron’s reaction, but when I went back to my desk, Glenn said, “LOL, Aaron is working from home today.”

Ugh.

Henry helped me make the chainsaw.

“I thought you said you weren’t decorating this year so why am I sitting here cutting out a chainsaw?” he sighed when I stopped him en route to Slumber Town and handed him a pair of scissors.

The only thing purchased for this one was poster board for the trees.

In case you have no idea what this is from:

Image result for ash vs evil dead

I didn’t even have to bring a book from home because Gayle turned one of the cabinets into a library, so I grabbed the first chunky hardback in there (thanks, Nora Roberts). I was going to make my own Necronomicon cover out of a latex mask but I wanted to get this set up the next day so…..a quick print-out it is!

Also, the chainsaw is green because my piece of red foam-stuff wasn’t large enough.

Cathy is visiting us from the Harrisburg office! Today was her first day in the office so Amber suggested yesterday that I decorate her desk too. Luckily, I had some extra stuff on hand, like this bloody sheet that I used for last year’s “Carrie” desk, a creepy clown doll, spiderwebs, severed fingers, a vintage picture of an actual dead guy in a coffin that I used for my funeral parlor theme desk a few years back, and probably what scared Cathy the most: an Asian snack on her keyboard. I think she felt welcome!

OK, this next one is my favorite! No, they’re all my favorites. I love all my babies equally. But seriously, when I made the connection that Patrick shares a surname with the Stranger Things family…it just all fell into place.

So I turned his office into a shrine for older brother Jonathan Byers.

The pictures he took of Barb on the diving board and Nancy in the window. There’s an actual scene in Stranger Things were the photos are hanging on a string like this. I didn’t have any string, rope, or twine, but I DID have some old party hats in my desk! So I ripped off the elastic.

In the show, Jonathan actually uses a Pentax and I’m so mad because I do have an old Pentax from the 80s somewhere in my house, but I couldn’t find it. So this Konica will have to do. Also, if you watched the show, you know that he liked The Clash’s “Should I Stay Or I Should I Go.”

The nail-studded baseball bat Demogorgon weapon that he carried. Thank god for cardboard boxes.

I had to carry this on the trolley with me this morning. No one even noticed.

I had a strand of white lights on hand, so I quickly painted them yesterday after work.

Total amount spent on this: $0.

I don’t know if this is good or just admitting that I’m basically a hoarder.

OK, the last one I decorated today is, in Glenn’s words, a bit of a stretch, but I had to do it.

Chris’s office is right next to me and I was disappointed last year that I couldn’t think of anything for his name, and then it hit me.

“Think about it, Glenn. ‘Chris Kenrick,” I said the other day after I came up with it.

Glenn just shrugged.

“Chris Kenrick. Chris KenRICK. Chris KenRICK GRIMES,” I blurted out giddily.

“Wow,” Glenn said, totally not impressed but probably a little.

In case you don’t watch The Walking Dead, Rick Grimes is the main character.

Image result for don't open dead inside

Today, Catherine said, “You are totally wasting your talent here!” and then started preaching about how I need to find a job that utilizes my skills, but I literally never see any job openings for “half-assed horror movie-themed office decorator” so it looks like the law firm is stuck with me for a little bit longer.

I have two other offices on my radar, but I’m off all next week so I don’t know if I will do it when I get back — is it worth it? UGH MAYBE PROBABLY WE’LL SEE. I can never tell if I’m going to get in trouble for this, but I guess that’s half the fun of being the office black sheep?

If you’re interested in last year’s decorations, please turn your attention here and here.

Jun 062017
 

Today is dear Henry’s birthday. My oppa, my bae, my ride or die, my Papa H, my All Of the Things He Hates Being Called. I am going to try and be extra nice to him all day (which is easy since most of that day we’ll both be at work) and not boss him around (as much — I’m still going to want him to feed me tonight).

I think everyone knows how great Henry is, whether you know him IRL or just from watching me drag his name through mud on here over the years. But it’s still worth the reminder and really, who doesn’t deserve a nice shout-out on their birthday? (OK, there are definitely people who don’t, so no need to answer that. I THINK WE CAN ALL AGREE ON ONE PERSON WHO MATCHES THE HUE OF THE PHILADELPHIA FLYERS.)

(That’s ORANGE if you are colorblind.)

Let us pay tribute to the big guy by remembering some of the best frowns from the past year.

The “You Have Your Own Ice Cream, Step Away From Mine” frown.

The “Oh Boy, Riot Fest Again (but secretly loving it)” frown.

The “Resting Frown Face” frown.

The “Posing For a Picture Outside of Another Haunted House I Didn’t Go In” frown.

The “All We Do Is Eat Ice Cream” frown.

The “Nothing Impresses You Once You’ve Been in THE SERVICE” frown.

The ubiquitous “What Are You Up To” father of all frowns.

****

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And here are some of Henry’s best moments over the years!

OK, that’s enough.

Henry, thank you for keeping Chooch and me safe and alive, and most importantly – spoiled rotten. I can’t imagine any one of my past boyfriends tolerating my obsessions and eye-roll inducing phases and my heart-wrenching imprinting on the entire country of South Korea. But you deal with it with panache and an absurd amount of patience. HOW.

Come on, guys — give it up for Papa H!

Jun 032017
 

Lol. Possibly in my Top 5 Worst Blog Titles Ever.

I recently had this urge to visit Laurel Caverns, especially after Chooch said he didn’t remember anything about his last two visits other than Henry wouldn’t let us play mini-golf while we were there. So I decided what better way to honor the war people than by skulking around inside a cave-thing.

This meant that for the second straight year, we were going to miss the lame Memorial Day parade that clunks and trips past our house every year. We were mildly sad about that because it’s entertaining for all the wrong reasons, but caverns trump* lame parades.

*(Gonna have to find a new word to use next time. Don’t want to dumb down this blog anymore than it already is.)

Somehow, we were all in a good mood even though we were leaving the house before 10AM which usually entails tons of whining and snapping at Henry.

But we managed to have a nice, leisurely drive to the Laurel Highlands (a little over an hour’s drive, I think). And when I say leisurely, I mean that Henry is now officially one of those old people who gets passed by every single car on the highway.

“I’M ALREADY GOING OVER THE SPEED LIMIT! WHAT DO THESE PEOPLE WANT FROM ME?!” he yelled when I pointed this out to him.

I was happy to see that the parking lot for the Caverns wasn’t too full, which lowered the odds of having douchebags in our group.

Remember the last time we were here when I was making fun of those people—” I started to say as we walked to the main building.

“When don’t you make fun of people?” Chooch interrupted at the same time Henry said, “That could be anywhere.”

We paid for our admission and milled about the gift shop for just five minutes before the next tour was ready to embark. I was sad because the observatory deck was cordoned off! It’s ritual to go out there and take pictures but NOT ON THIS DAY, I guess.

As soon as our tour was called over the speaker, I got a surge of giddiness coursing through my veins. There is just something about being underground that makes me lose control of my behavior. Memories of acting like an asshole with my Girl Scout troop come flooding back; and the time we were there with the French exchange student who was living with us and my dad’s godson fell so my dad started calling him Bobo Bobolinksi (for whatever reason, this made tons of sense at the time); or the time Corey and I went there and photo-stalked some yuppie couple we hated.

Laurel Caverns is just the best! It’s the ultimate funnybone activator for me because I’m an asshole.

Almost immediately, I imprinted on our guide. He had the most adorably sardonic science-y sense of humor and I was ready to lead him down some dark, unexplored part of the cavern where we could start our own society IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

And if you don’t, I mean that I was prepared to have all of his babies.

BEING ON TOURS IGNITES MY IMAGINATION, OK.

We were in a group of maybe 15 people so it wasn’t too bad, and no one blatantly stood out and begged to be mocked, so that was good but also kind of boring because what am I supposed to do if I can’t be a lowkey dick?

OH THAT’S RIGHT, THINK ABOUT POPULATING THE CAVERN WITH MY TOUR GUIDE OFFSPRING.

Rocks.

More rocks.

Even more rocks still.

There’s a joke here somewhere about us being dumb as rocks.

Chooch spent most of the time walking ahead of us and trying to latch on to other families. That’s what he’s best at. Always looking for the better option.

The last several times we visited, we learned about the terrible bat crisis. Our guide (I can’t believe I don’t know his name, by the way) was telling us that in 2007 or something, they counted over 12,000  hibernating bats in the cave, and this past year it was down to 12.

No, I didn’t accidentally omit any zeros. That’s a 12. A 1-2. One and a two.

TWELVE.

Twelve bats! That’s it!

“Did they like, migrate?” some dumb broad asked.

“Oh no, they’re dead,” our guide said matter-of-factly, causing us to laugh, not because a dying breed is hilarious, but because his delivery was perfect.

This part of the tour kills me every time. I AM SO SAD FOR THE BATS!!

As everyone filed out of the cavern after the hour-long tour, I blurted out, “You’re the best guide I’ve ever had!” and then promptly ran away as he was stammering to thank me.

“I totally have a crush on him,” I squealed when he was out of earshot.

“Ugh, I knew it,” Chooch said with disgust and Henry just sighed, “Of course you do.”

I DON’T THINK HE WAS WEARING A WEDDING BAND AND GUESS WHAT NEITHER AM I.

Afterward, we played a round of mini-golf and I MURDERED the competition. It was almost sickening how good I was, and Chooch and Henry were so annoyed. Especially Henry, since he’s accustomed to being “the best” at mini-golf because he’s usually the only one who tries but I was succeeding purely off luck and shit-shots.

I love winning! I love being me!

There was some little bitch and her mom behind us (they weren’t on our tour) and she kept starting the hole while we were still on it and her mom was barely scolding her! And she kept calling her mom “Mother!” which was really grating my nerves. Stop encroaching on our game!

After Laurel Caverns, we drove home through Uniontown while blasting kpop and garnering confused looks from people at every red light we stopped at.

I’ve driven through Uniontown a million times in my lifetime, and even dated a guy from there for about 3 years, but I have never actually walked around it. The downtown area is so cute!

We ate at Randall’s on the way home. I had a grilled cheese and felt myself getting immediately fat like I do when I stray from my K-diet. Henry and I had coleslaw and it was too mayo-y.

Afterward, we went to Bill’s for ice cream. I was mad because I was forced to order abruptly without adequate menu-gazing time. I piggybacked off of Henry’s “small twist with crunchies” order BUT IT WASN’T WHAT I WANTED.

I was unsatisfied.

Then Henry went back inside to pee and in that short amount of time, Chooch got in a fight about something that I can’t even remember now and spent the whole car ride home not speaking.

THIS WAS RIGHT BEFORE THE FIGHT.

We’re OK now, don’t worry. I’m still a mom, I guess.

Well, now you know how we spent our Memorial Day. It was fine. The Penguins won the first game of the Stanley Cup finals later that night so that was a good ending!

As you were.

May 142017
 

Today is Mother’s Day and it was fine. Nothing spectacular. We’re all lethargic a little from our Cleveland day trip yesterday, which always seems like no big thang until it’s 2:30am and we’re just rolling into Pittsburgh and I say “we” because I do everything short of propping my eyelids up with toothpicks in order to stay awake out of solidarity while Henry drives (and also because I have a huge fear of him falling asleep at the wheel). Needless to say, I was kicking myself for telling him we didn’t need to spend the night there. 

(That’s how yow know I’m serious about saving money! I HAVE MY EYE ON THE PRIZE.)

Chooch actually said Happy Mothers Day to me this morning without being prompted by Henry, which was nice I guess. Then he said, “I’ll make your coffee for you. Never mind, I don’t know how to make coffee” and then walked away when I tried to tell him to how. 

WHO DOES HE REMIND ME OF RIGHT NOW, I thought to myself. OH YEAH—ME. 

Chooch is too old now for teachers to force him to draw me some dumb picture or write some MOTHER acrostic and if Henry doesn’t remember to take him to the store to buy me at least a card, I get nothing. 

This was one of those years. But I’m still riding high on G-Dragon and KCON and also seeing Emarosa last night so I’m good. I mean, I’m still going to bitch about it because that’s who I am, but honestly I’m fine. 

I’m not a big breakfast fanatic so I told Henry to just make me an egg and an English muffin. Wow, when did I become so easy? Then Henry asked, “Do you want to watch Running Man since we didn’t get to watch it yesterday?” And he never seemed hotter to me than he did at that moment, except for Friday when he was like “Fine get the P4 KCON tickets instead of the P5.” 

So we watched Running Man and it happened to be the episode where they announce that Song Joon Ki is leaving and everyone on the show was crying and I was practically choking on my tears because they fell so fast that I wasn’t able to close my mouth in time. 

Wah. 

Um, what else. 

Henry made me a lovely bowl of dangnyeum for lunch and then we went to Jefferson Memorial for a walk even though Chooch declared that he suddenly doesn’t like cemeteries anymore? And I pouted because they weren’t putting me up on a grand enough Mom Pedestal, to which Chooch cried, “Literally every day is your day!” And ok fine he has a point but still. 

Then I made Chooch pose for this picture right after he was loudly talking about how he had to piss, not realizing that some broad was sitting in a nearby car with the window down, listening to his crude soliloquy:

I bet all the old rich suburban people preening their mothers’ graves really loved Chooch’s shirt. 

There was a patch of buttercups next to a stream in the cemetery, and I taught Chooch the whole “buttercup nose reflection” thing which really isn’t that big of a deal but I remember doing it a lot as a kid with my friends so maybe it was a big deal? I mean, we also weren’t preoccupied with Snapchat and Musicaly and cyber bullying back then, so the simple act of making the tip of our noses glow yellow was a fucking barrel of monkeys. 

 Chooch originally was unimpressed, but then a few minutes later he said, “No really, how does it turn your nose yellow?”

He’s kind of slow sometimes. 

We ended the day with a walk to Scoops, where a fourth grader came in and proceeded to stare at Chooch. 

“Do you know her?” Henry asked. 

“Yeah, she calls me Beaver.” And then when we stared at him expectedly, he casually added, “Because I ate a stick one time.”

Ugh, his reputation at school must be completely unenviable. 

On the way home, I was running like I was in the BTS “Run” music video and then Chooch was going to live at a bus stop and I was laughing so hard at everything that I was practically screaming and Henry just continued to walk faaaaaar ahead of us. 

So, that was my Mother’s Day. It was… a day. But yesterday was pretty close to perfection, so I guess it all evens out. 

Apr 162017
 

IMG_0590

Blake was over last night and I did that thing I do where I wait until the last minute and then blurt out, “CAN YOUDO ME A FAVOR HERE PUT THIS ON” and then before Blake knew it, he was reprising his leporine* role.

*(That was today’s Dictionary.com word of the day, have some smarts.)
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Reflection.

My original plan backfired, because Henry failed to perfectly execute my vision so I threw a fit and pouted for twenty  minutes (I’m getting better), so I guess I’ll save that for that next year.

Anyway, enjoy whatever it is you do on Easter, and if you’re like us and do nothing, then bask in the glory that is no religious obligation! Stupid Henry, I mean, the real Easter bunny didn’t come back to our house so there were NO BASKETS for chooch and me and Henry, I mean, the Easter Bunny, said it’s because we’re spoiled brats and don’t deserve anything and now we know how he feels because we never get him anything for holidays?!

Henry, and I mean, the Easter Bunny, strikes back. What the fuck. 

(NOT EVEN ANY JELLYBEANS?!)

Feb 142017
 

Some years I get really into Valentines Day and pass cards out at work, bake Henry a cake, make him a painting of us, blah blah blah. But then other years, I’m too preoccupied with other things to be bothered. Considering I don’t even know what day it is half the time anymore, I didn’t have great expectations or grand plans for this year’s V-Day.

And it started off kind of bad because I SLEPT IN and I NEVER SLEEP IN. I fell asleep on the couch last night, watching Running Man episodes on YouTube, and I guess my phone slid in between the couch cushions so I didn’t hear BIGBANG serenading me this morning, THE FUCK.

Thank god for Chooch’s friend Dimajio. He comes over every morning at 7:20 so that they can talk about important things such as if they refer to Gatorade by color or actual flavor name before walking to school together, so his knocking was my makeshift alarm.

I thought this was a sign of A Bad Day Ahead, but then I got to work and found a bag of Cadbury dark chocolate hearts on my desk:

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The heart on the bag said “One of a kind” which is also a G-Dragon song and then Henry was like CALL ME ASAP so I did and he was like BOOTS WAS ARRESTED! BEST VALENTINES DAY EVER!

(Glenn’s heart said “You’re terrific” and I was like HARDLY.)

This calls for its own blog post, especially once I get more 411, but the best part is that the landlord told Henry that now in lieu of trying to evict Boots (which, I’m no landlord, but I hear that evicting people isn’t always the easiest thing), he can now file for abandonment of the property or something, so that Boots can’t come back. There have been people quietly moving their shit out of there all night, so I feel HASHTAG BLESSED.

Later in the afternoon, Henry surprised me by being Facebook-affectionate, which is a rare occurrence indeed, so rare that people were like, “HAHAH HACKED” and then I was like, “NICE ONE, HENRY. You’re nice to me so infrequently that my friends literally think I posted this myself!”

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I assure you I didn’t. I would have used a better picture.

(I have to admit, I really did do a double-take when I opened up my Facebook app and saw the “feeling in love with Erin Rachelle Kelly” part.)

And then after work, Henry gave me a BIGBANG sweater!! I might have cried a little bit. I actually told him a few days that I didn’t want anything for Valentines Day unless it was Korean, but it appears that he was one step ahead of me. I was so happy with this that I let him go to sleep after he made dinner and I didn’t even bother him!

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(Meanwhile, I just went upstairs and walked in on Chooch watching Twilight and crying, the fuck. I think we’re all going through identity crises. Chooch is now a middle-aged housewife and I’m a Korean teenager.)

I guess this is the part where I say something sweet about Henry. Um, I’ll just say it inside my head.

So, that was my exciting Made Up Holiday That Doesn’t Matter, except on the years that Henry actually gets me shit that I want!

Image result for g-dragon gif flowers

Signing off with a Valentines Day Edition BIGBANG video, you are so very welcome (#TURTLENECKGOALS):

Dec 292016
 

The "let's go" shadow dance.

A post shared by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin) on

Oh wow, more merry merry holiday recaps, thank god. 

I can’t even believe I’m about to say this about my own kid, but wow is he so unlike me sometimes! There was only one thing he wanted for Christmas, and had been telling us since at least the beginning of summer. I remember thinking, “A Nintendo 3DS? Wow, aren’t those like, yesterday’s news?” I’m too busy immersed in my own interests and obsessions to keep up with the world of gaming, but evidently, every single Nintendo gaming system was in high demand this season, even the 3DS XL.

Of course, we didn’t know this until three days before Xmas (THREE DAYS BEFORE – we’re getting less and less last minute each year, you guys!) when some asshole at GameStop laughed at us like we just asked to see the motherfucking basement of the goddamn Alamo.

So I decided, on Christmas Eve, that I was going to gently break the news to Chooch so that he wouldn’t be super disappointed on actual Christmas. And by gently, I mean that I s-l-o-w-l-y ripped off that Pokemon Band-Aid while saying things like, “OK promise you won’t get mad” and “Please don’t hate me, but….” until finally I think he figured out where my hemming and hawing was leading (even though I tried to throw the “you’re adopted” curveball at him) and you know what? HE DID NOT THROW A FIT.

How is that my kid?

HOW HAS HE BEEN WATCHING ME THROW TEMPER TANTRUMS FOR THE LAST 10 YEARS AND NOT ONCE FELT THE NEED TO EMULATE ME?

Because if that was 10-year-old Erin and my mom was all, “Sorry, but the Brony phenomenon started 20 years early and there’s not one My Little Pony to be had, I checked EVERY LAST KAY-BEE” I would have slammed ten thousand doors and broken every glass object that dared to stand in front of my testosterone surge.

But Chooch was all, “It’s OK, I understand” and proceeded to be completely happy with the other non-coveted items we bought him.

Like, wow.

Whose kid is he!?

Oh right, Henry is a parent, also.

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Christmas morning was really good, you guys. It was peaceful. We didn’t fight (not until later at the cemetery but we always fight at the cemetery because using my broken camera makes me lose my temper), just hung out and listened to all of my favorite bands while Chooch had about 19 different toys in action all at once.

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Henry is like, so thoughtful.

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We could have probably just got him a handful of Pokemon cards and he would have been content.

And scratch offs. The kid loves himself some lottery.

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Butt-crack scratch offs.

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Papa Bae* got me another beautiful piece of The Cure art to add to the collection! THANKS BAE.

*(Never gets old. To you, it probably does. And definitely to Henry.)

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Obligatory Christmas family photo, in between me yelling at them and them rolling their eyes.

Henry brought a ziplock bag of black olives, which made me scream in horror.

“Um, I thought you love black olives?” he sighed.

“I do! But not in this context!” I screamed.

“In this context? You mean, in a plastic bag?”

YES THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I MEAN, ASSHOLE.

Speaking of black olives! We had our team Christmas lunch last week at Villa Reale. I sat next to Amber1 and THANK GOD I DID, because she ordered a side salad and then proceeded to pick out all of the olives.

I cried, “If you don’t want your olives, I’ll take them!” and so she made a little pile of olives for me, which I later smashed into my slice of cheese pizza. Black olives is basically the only pizza topping I care about.

Glenn and Todd were sitting across from me and seemed disgusted by my olive actions, but I didn’t care. My pizza tasted so much more familiar after that.

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Actually, here is a picture of that time it took three people to pull apart a piece of garlic bread, with my olives waiting patiently for their hot, greasy bed to splay across like Miss(es) December(s).

Ugh, erotic olives get me every time!

But yeah…olives from a plastic bag? That’s not hot.

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Came home after our “picnic” and spent the rest of the day relaxing, watching Netflix things, not giving a shit about the Steelers, and spying on the neighbors. 

Oh, and lots of KpopX workouts!

Well, that was my Xmas 2016. It was kind of perfect, not gon’ lie.  Most days, I feel like your basic Schleprock, but on this particular Christmas, I felt pretty lucky. DON’T TELL HENRY I SAID THAT, EW.

Dec 272016
 

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For the first time in 6 years, we went to my mom’s house for Christmas. Technically, it was Christmas Eve-Eve, but it still had just the right amount of holiday feels. This has been a tremendously difficult year for my family, and while I wanted to go out of the town for the weekend and pretend like Christmas wasn’t happening, I knew I couldn’t do that to my mom. She lost her sister, her childhood home, and three of her pets in less than a year. What a fucking year.

And you know what? It ended up being fine. Better than fine — it was really nice and relaxed, and the food was great (I definitely didn’t inherit any of my mom’s cooking skills), and the decor was beautiful. Henry’s contribution was some kind of egg and polenta casserole thing that he found in one of his housewife magazines, which he misplaced and started tearing the house apart like a wildman while yelling at me and his mom. I was about to get all defensive up in here but then I remembered that I constantly throw his stuff away, so…

But then he found it on the table or who knows where, so crisis averted.

“Are there mushrooms in this?” Corey asked around a forkful of the polenta slop.

“YEAH WHY ARE YOU ALLERGIC?!” I cried in alarm.

“No, I just don’t really like mushrooms,” Corey laughed nervously, but then he said he was surprised that he liked the slop after all! Maybe there’s hope that Henry can trick our kid into eating vegetables by the time he’s 26.

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My mom’s aesthetic couldn’t be any different than mine*, but I really love it.

*(Said beneath a picture featuring clown figurines.)

We used to have this big, beautiful wooden Noah’s Ark in that bay window, with lot of wooden animal pairs to go with it, but then over the years our dog Rama ran off with roughly 75% of them, so I guess my mom finally got rid of it. It was weird not seeing it there. I started to explain it to Henry, who cut me off and said, “Yeah I know, I’ve seen it before.”

“YOU DIDN’T SEE IT WHEN IT WAS GOOD, THOUGH!” I yelled, because that’s how I communicate with Henry. At high volumes with a hatchet behind my back.

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The faces of people watching a kid try to make a constipated reindeer poop candy.

This picture cracks (originally typed CRAPS — you guys, I’m starting to seriously worry about my brain. I USED TO BE A SPELLING AND GRAMMAR SNOB AND NOW LOOK AT ME) me up. If you’ve ever been around us, you’ve probably definitely seen Henry in this exact pose: A Sleep-Deprived, Down-Trodden Man’s AnguishTM.

Big shot Henry made another coconut (originally typed “cocunt” – someone order me an MRI, I’m scared) cream pie, this time with HOMEMADE WHIPPED CREAM laced with RUM. Thanks, Kitchen Wench.

Chooch got my mom a candle and a copy of his school picture, which he signed “My Beautiful Face” on the back. It was eerily reminiscent of the time I blew up and framed a close-up of my face for my grandma for Christmas one year and she was just like, “Oh.”

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After dinner, Henry could stand it no longer and crashed on a chair in the living room. Meanwhile, my mom got Chooch so many Pokémon cards and that really kept him quiet so good thinking, Val! Also, she found two tubes of Pogs and at first my brother Ryan thought they were mine, but after .0002 seconds of rifling though them, I deduced that they were actually his because they were way too basic to be mine. I mean, one was a yin yang for fuck’s sake!

Mad props to my mom for wanting to end the year on a nice, peaceful note when it’d be just as easy to lay in bed and cry about it. Which is usually how I spend holidays. #sadgirl4L

Dec 262016
 

Oh boy, guess what time it is?! Annual Christmas portraits of Chooch in the cemetery! And as usual, it was the only time we fought all day because I get so irritated with using my actual camera anymore.

I use this excuse every single time, but my camera is like a dying dog that needs puts out of its misery. But buying a new one is just not something I care about right now (priorities: concerts and traveling for concerts) so I keep dragging the old, broken bitch out of the house when the time comes, which really is only about twice a year these days because I’m lazy and apathetic as fuck. But at least this time I remembered to charge the battery the night before!

As usual, there was tons of fighting in the beginning. The camera was all out of whack and I started launching death threats at Henry because everything is his fault. But then he fiddled with the setting and everything was OK but I still hated him so he hung back and let us do our thing. We eventually walked across the street to the other side of the cemetery and Henry completely left us alone, and suddenly Chooch and I were best friends and I hadn’t yelled, “JUST FORGET IT!” and marched off in a huff in at least 10 minutes! A record!

Anyway, here are pictures of my kid, age 10, on Christmas 2016 after eating a lazy picnic of egg salad sandwiches and Chips Ahoy that Henry half-assedly tossed into a tiny cooler. These picnics are dying the same slow death as my camera!

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It looks like Chooch is so congenial here! But what was actually happening was he was saying, “FUCK MY LIFE” with a mirthless laugh.

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And here he is laughing at my camera-caused anguish.

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This was probably when I was yelling, “EVERYTHING I DO FOR YOU AND YOU CAN’T SMILE FOR ONE FUCKING PICTURE!?”

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Things got OK from this point on. I wasn’t feeding off of Henry’s presence anymore and my blood pressure was starting to level out.

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I don’t know why, but somehow the theme became “Sad Mouseketeer” – I just rolled with it because Chooch was actually being pleasant to work with and sometimes you just have to let the model take the lead.

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The “please adopt me” face.

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This is the look he’s usually giving me at any given moment of the day.

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When we got in the car to leave, Chooch said to Henry, “Daddy, everything was fine once you left.” SEE?! Henry is the catalyst.

And then the rest of the day was fine because I didn’t have a camera in my hand. Henry said it probably just needs serviced and I was like YOU NEED SERVICED UGH.

Dec 242016
 

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Merry Christmas Eve! Henry is wrapping presents while we watch The Fall (thanks for the recommendation, Chris!) and I try to talk myself out of the notion that he could be a serial killer. HE GOES “TO THE STORE” WAY TOO OFTEN.

Anyway, this is our first Christmas with Drew and Penelope. They’re being dicks, but they sure look cute doing it.

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Kpop. Kats. Krissmiss.

A post shared by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin) on

Chooch hasn’t believed in Santa in years, so I get all of my fun these days by labeling his presents in ridiculous ways. Like, this year, one is from “that lady’s ass in the Kanye West video.” And obvisiously, there’s one from Boots too.

I’m typing this with one contact in because (surprise, surprise) my one eye is like, screaming at me so many Santa will bring me new eyeballs. Or at the very least, a resurrected pair of my beloved big green glasses.

kbye.

Dec 202016
 

When I woke up last Wednesday, I was in A Mood. Going to work felt like a drag. Our department’s Christmas party was that day and I just wasn’t feeling any sort of way about the holidays. I mean, I hadn’t reached Critical Grinch status, but I was getting close. JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS, except swap out “days” with “years.”

You guys, I even opted out of Secret Santa. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE SECRET SANTA?! :(

I got to work and at first it was all, “Ugh work. Ugh Glenn. Ugh stupid desk—–with A BOX ON IT HEY WHAT’S IN THIS BOX?!”

Oh, I’ll tell you what was in the box: a shoofly pie…from Lancaster!

Ahhhh, Virginia is so sweet! I went to her office to thank her and she said, “I thought I remembered hearing you say you like shoofly pie.” I went back to my desk and told Glenn, who was like, “Who DIDN’T hear you say that? You talked about it for about a year.” Ugh, whatever. But OK, that’s true.

Also on my desk was a sugar cookie-scented wax thingie from Gayle. She gave me a cinnamon one several years back and it still smells so wonderful! So I was happy to get another one. I can’t brag too much about this one though because she gave one to everyone. YAWN.

A few minutes later, Sandy walked by with a huge bag of British chocolate and let me pick me one, and then right after that, Lori gave me a cookie.

“WHY DO PEOPLE LIKE YOU” Glenn grunted in disgust, which is always my cue to turn around, tilt my head, place a hand under my chin, and then smile sweetly.

“It’s because of this,” I said, Vanna White’ing my face with my free hand, at which point Todd groaned and maybe possibly threw up a little.

A few hours later, I overheard Gayle over in her dark cave, talking to a visiting JP about the smelly wax things.

“This one is my favorite, it’s lemon lavender. Here, smell it,” she said to JP, at which point I nearly flipped over my chair in my effort to get my nostrils closer to the lavender.

“I want to smell it too!” I cried, inserting myself into their scented wax smell-o-thon.

Gayle let me have a deep whiff. I made a really sad face and said, “I like that one better than the one you gave me.”

“Well, this one is mine, so….” Gayle started to say before remembering who she was talking to. “I might have an extra one at home….oh for God’s sake, here. Just take this one.” And as I giddily ran back to my desk with my new wax thing, I heard her sigh to JP, “I just can’t stand to see her pout like that.”

“Bully,” Todd said as I dangled my winnings over Glenn’s desk.

Meanwhile, a Chinese auction and raffle was going on. Every year, people donate unused goods, which are then put together into various themed gift baskets for people to bid on, and all the proceeds go to whichever charity/good cause our department had collectively chosen for that year. Then there are other items which are raffled off. As usual, I didn’t have cash on me, and at first I didn’t care, until Wendy made me go and look at all the stuff that was up for grabs.

And that’s when I saw it.

SUCCULENT NOTE CARDS. They were part of a “local art” collection and I desperately wished I had a dollar, or four quarters or whatever, so I could buy a dumb raffle ticket.

But I didn’t, so I went back to my desk and worked, which I’m sure seems shocking to a lot of people, the image of me working.

Later in the afternoon, before the drawing was set to happen, I heard Gayle buying more tickets from the admin person.

“Gayle, give me one of your tickets,” I said, nay—demanded.

Not only did Gayle give me a ticket, she gave me TWO TICKETS. Yeah she did.

So I put one ticket in the bag for the art stuff, and then, after hesitating, I put the second ticket in the bag for the kitchen-y stuff, because I thought maybe if I won that,  I could give it to Henry and he would be so struck by my thoughtfulness, that he would rewind time and marry me 11 years ago.

The Chinese auction closed at 3. I didn’t care about who won any of that stuff though (however, Gayle won a GIGANTIC Chicago canvas and it’s still sitting on her desk and I crack up every time I walk by it), because I didn’t bid on anything and I truly do only care about myself I guess.

After all that hullabaloo (shout out to Battle of the Network Stars), it was finally time for the raffle drawings. I was still at my desk, working, when I heard the admin girl—Shannon—say my name. That was my cue to speedwalk over to where all the raffle shit was and ask, “DID YOU SAY MY NAME DID I WIN SOMETHING WHAT DID I WIN PLEASE DON’T LET IT BE THE KITCHEN SHIT” and it was the art stuff! I got the succulent notecard set! I also got a cute Cheshire Cat card and tea towel, and a little pot which I gave to Todd because he has zero decorations / personal effects on his desk.

Shannon sent out an email letting everyone know who won what, since not everyone was prize-hungry like me and low-key loitering around a corner trying to hear if their name was called. Almost immediately, I got an email from Wendy that said, very succinctly, “OMG YOU ARE THE WORST!!!!” Because Wendy knew that I made Gayle give me two of her tickets.

I think that might have been my most winningest moment of the day though, knowing how appalled this made Wendy. I LOVE WINNING! God, Wednesday was a great day.

Another great day was Thursday, when I walked into work and saw that my desk was covered in Xmas décor, lights, and even a tiny tree. There was a note that said, “Maybe this will put you in the Christmas spirit.” Just the day before, I was in the kitchen with her, being a brat about Christmas apathy. “I DIDN’T EVEN MAKE CHRISTMAS CARDS THIS YEAR, CHERYL!” I shouted, really driving it home.

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I added my own flair to the garland. It just needed a little bit of Erin, you know?

Well, kudos to you, Cheryl — it worked! The decorations are the complete opposite of everything I represent, and that makes me crack up every day when I sit down at my desk now. And I even felt inspired to get off my ass and make Xmas cards this year after all! I mean, I only just made them last night so probably everyone will get them after Christmas, but AT LEAST I DID IT,

Sometimes work is a weird type of therapy for me. And I guess if you were really hard-pressed for a moral, you could say that BULLYING IS FOR WINNERS. Or, I work with a bunch of enablers.

Dec 172016
 

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While our country was in the middle of imploding last month, the only thing I could think was, “This year has been like toddler backwash in the cup of life. I just want to be with my friends and not care about anything for a few hours, Henry we’re having a party.” And Henry was like, “—-” and I was like, “Too late, I already invited people.” Henry LOVES when that happens, but at least this time I gave him a three second heads up before he got the Facebook event notification.

I created the event on my phone, probably through tears because a veil of salty face water is 2016’s little black dress. As such, I accidentally spelled party as “parth” and WENDY had a field day with that one. The next day at work, she was like, “I’m going to dress like Jennie Garth to your holiday parth” and then Lori, who had stopped in Wendy’s office right at that moment, was all, “LOL and I’m going to be Shannon Doherty” so then they wanted me to be Tori Spelling?! I was like, “Why do I have to be Tori Spelling!?” and I got unreasonably upset about this, so then Wend was all, “Fine you can be David Silver then. Or Andrea!” and I cried, “I DON’T WANT TO BE ANY OF THOSE PEOPLE!” and stormed back to my desk, even after Lori offered to relinquish her claim on Brenda.

“Wow, that took a turn,” Lori laughed.

#blamewendy

As usual, this was poorly planned. HENRY waited until the last minute to start preparing, after ignoring my month-long texts of food suggestions. His big idea was to make mini ham BBQ sandwiches and I was like, “Wow, how Yinzer of you. Can we fill an old tire full of Coors Lite, too?” And then he waited until two hours into the party to finally serve the vegetarian meatballs I begged him to make, and he only made like 10 of them and had to cut them into little pieces, and then he didn’t even make fancy sauce, he just used STORE BOUGHT ONES. Whatever, Henry. Go fuck yourself.

Also, I spent like FIFTEEN MINUTES at the idiotic grocery store, trying to decide what kinds of crackers to buy, and then we forgot to put them out on the table. And Henry wouldn’t buy fancy bread and instead bought some gross, dry, tiny loaf of party bread that no one ate because it was a real saliva-sucker and I didn’t eat it either. Chooch tried one and then threw it out in front of everyone.

(OK FINE I PICKED OUT THE BREAD BECAUSE I WAS CONFUSED AND FLUSTERED AND JUST WANTED TO BE DONE.)

We were really crunched for time, so I actually offered to help Henry with kitchen-y things. He had me cut peppers (!!!!!). First he gave me a huge knife, then thought better of it and swapped it out with something less dangerous. Still, it took me forever to dice them the way he showed me. I kept asking him what the peppers were for, to which he repeatedly responded with a vague, “Um…I’m not sure yet.”

OH I’LL TELL YOU WHAT THEY WERE FOR: his motherfucking ham BBQ!!! That bastard had me sous-cheffing for his gross meat shit!! Talk about betrayal.

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I wanted Henry to make more sweet things too but he made no such thing, so then I just had Janna bake cookies and she did because I told her to. Obedient friends are important to have, guys. And Chris and Monica brought salted caramel bars too so thank god!

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At least I didn’t screw up the punches. (And yes, that sign mentions pregnant people because Robbie’s girlfriend is having twins! HENRY IS GOING TO BE A GRANDFATHER!!! And someone else is pregnant too but hasn’t officially announced it yet so I won’t out them on here. And no it’s not me, ew.) Honestly, the beverage buffet is my favorite part of having parties. Plus, I get joy in seeing Blake daintily holding a tiny punch glass.

I did this! Here’s my Pinterest-worthy step-by-step DIY:

  1. Hand garland to people.
  2. Have them do it for you.

In my case, the “people” were Henry and Robbie. WELL DONE! Robbie also hung my “Merry Christmas” garland for me above the beverage buffet, because Henry was “too busy.”

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But then people started to arrive and I didn’t care about the dumb food anymore because woo, distractions!

Guest list:

  • Robbie and Nikki
  • Blake and Haley
  • Sandy, Elene and Zoe
  • Amber1 and Brian
  • Janna
  • Barb
  • Lori
  • Lauren and Tony
  • Chris and Monica
  • Wendy, Shawn and Summer
  • Sean and Ines
  • Shawn and Jess

Lisa and Kara both sadly had to un-RSVP earlier that day because they were sick. :( I was so sad! It seemed weird without them. Although I think maybe Kara was just trying to avoid Henry because she is the QUEEN of finding ridiculous things for sale that she knows will get me all riled up, so she’ll text me the link to various oddities knowing that an impending headache will ensue for Henry, having to hear me whine and beg for things like an old bumper car being auctioned from a defunct amusement park. And then Henry will scream, “THAT THING WOULDN’T EVEN FIT THROUGH OUR FRONT DOOR” and Kara will reply, “If he really loved you, he’d find a way.”

Like, we have a roof you know — cut a hole and drop it through, Henry!

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Holy fork receptacle — I DID THIS.

YOU GUYS, THERE ARE TWINS IN THERE. I can’t wait to be the weirdest young faux-grandma ever!!!! LET’S GO TO WARPED TOUR, BABIES!

As if everyone didn’t already feel under-dressed, Zoe had to go and add a garland boa to her ensemble. <3

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Chooch said he had a good time at the party but his favorite part was when everyone left. Wow.

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Henry and Shawn coming up with a hopeful Mouse Attack stratagem.

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Ugh, everyone LOVES Chooch, blah blah blah.

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A Somber Convo.

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Blake and the dainty punch cup. PINKIE FINGER ACTIVATED.

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When Barb walked in, Chooch casually said, “Wrong house.” I love their weird frenemyship.

Also, I think this is the first time I had a party where everyone was there at once (usually my non-game night parties are of a revolving door-variety where some people come early and some come late) so my tiny house was pretty packed. Sorry guys!

Not sorry to my ASSHOLE NEIGHBORS though. Hope all the loud laughter and talking disturbed them. (It probably didn’t though, ugh.)

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I jokingly mentioned in the Facebook event thing that perhaps we also do lame crafts, but then it became a reality. Chooch picked out some s’mores craft thing with was evidently extremely frustrating to create, but luckily Sandy came prepared with foam snowflakes, stickers, and markers, so that seemed to appease the kids (and Blake and Haley). I think my favorite scene was Zoe crafting on the Devil rug.

Pictured: Haley using the s’mores craft supplies to make a snowman, while Chris waves her hand at this impromptu display of ingenuity and says, “WHOA.” Meanwhile, Blake just played with an electrical current.

(The s’mores craft really played with Chooch’s patience, that’s for sure. “It was TERRIBLE. Did not work” — Chooch’s 1 star review.)

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Henry was in his glory because all of his favorite Sean/Shawns were there.

I wouldn’t let anyone leave without taking their picture with Trudy the Beauty:

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The night before, I had a dream that I forgot to make the punch and didn’t realize it until the next morning, but then it ended up not even mattering because no one showed up anyway. I was nervous all day, wondering if everyone was going to cancel on me, but it ended up being such a nice turn-out! Someday, I’ll move out of this shanty and into something bigger, and then EVERYONE CAN COME!

P.S. It’s been a week and my house is still clean! The best part of having parties: Henry DEEP CLEANS.

Dec 042016
 

We were going to make Trudy Dress-Up Time an event like last year, because nothing says Christmas tradition like drunkenly talking with friends about current events while hanging ornaments from a mannequin’s tit, but then I got SICK so Henry basically did it all himself. But let’s face it—it’s probably better that way. Especially when it comes to putting up lights. I don’t fuck with that peasant shit.

We never started putting up trees until Chooch was 2, so by then, my four original cats were already old enough to not really give a shit about it. We never had a single incident! At most, Marcy would sometimes lay under it. Last year, when we introduced Trudy as our official tree of the season, we were, for the first time ever, a pet-less household. Drew and Penelope are both a little over a year old now, but they still act like pernicious assholes, so I have been super worried about how they’d react.

I voiced my concern so Henry said he would strap Trudy to the wall if he had to.

“How are you going to do that?” I asked honestly, because no really how?

“ERIN, I CAN PRETTY MUCH DO ANYTHING!” he cried, giving me those crazy mountain man eyes he gets when I’ve given him one too many things to do in one day. lol forever.

Don’t worry. I kept a close eye on him to make sure he didn’t grab Trudy by the pussy. NOT ON MY WATCH, MOTHERFUCKER.

Trudy Twinkle Toes.

My only contribution was wrapping her with garland, which Henry yelled at me for because “LIGHTS ARE SUPPOSED TO GO ON FIRST, IDIOT.” Sorry, Father Christmas!

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Chooch looks promising as an option for an auxiliary tree….

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Thankfully, the cats were mostly blasé about the whole ordeal, save for several sniffs and curious peeks into the bins of decorations. But today was a brand new day, and it was like they were seeing it for the first time. However, most of their fascination lies with the tree skirt – Santa’s hat has a pom-pom on it and hoo-boy is it enticing. There’s been a lot of running and sliding into Trudy and bunny-kicking of Santa’s hat.

Trudy has a new wig for this season. Now she looks a bit more sophisticated and less like a candy cane floozy.

Whatever that means. I’m sick, remember.

Praying for a normal Christmas tree. Chooch hates Trudy. OH WELL, SUCKER. Stop trying to make me conform, tiny patriarchy!!