My life lately has been consuming every piece of footage I can find on YouTube during Taemin’s “Want” comeback cycle, scream-singing jingles to the cats about my every movement, and having stress dreams about work. So basically, nothing to see here, haha.

Ha.

Ugh.

But I do have some pictures on my phone that I need to dump into this blog-commode, and of course those pictures come with words, apologies in advance. I’ll try to limit it to five things because that would be staying true to the title of this blog and keep me an honest woman.

(EVEN THOUGH HENRY NEVER MADE ME AN HONEST WOMAN IN THE FIRST PLACE.)

1. Bad Ice Cream

I know what you’re thinking, “Poppycock!” because you live inside a Dickens novel probably, but it’s true: we had a bad ice cream experience last Saturday and I’m still very sad about it. You know I love Millie’s. Everyone knows I love Millie’s. I have been singing their praises for years, ever since they opened a storefront, even though they replaced my then-favorite ice cream joint, Oh Yeah. I have been taking out-of-town friends to Millie’s, arranging “off-site work meetings-slash-team building” field trips to the Millie’s downtown, and basically I just pimp the fuck out of Millie’s like she’s a real life corner-stander in fishnets.

Chooch and I were RULL stoked to go to Millie’s on this particular day because they recently started a limited flavor series called Love Letters where they partner up with other local food businesses, like chocolatiers, honey makers, cheese….rs? You get what I’m saying. We both really had our hearts set on this one that was made with some dude’s fresh ricotta or whatever, mixed with almonds, and topped with an optional drizzle of Mike’s Hot Honey which hello, that’s the same honey I had on my pizza in NYC and it was THE BIZZ.  But once we got there, Chooch changed his mind and was going to get some chocolate hazelnut thing instead, which was also a Love Letter.

Right off the bat, I got BAD VIBES from the young girl working. She was surly. No personality. Seemed super rushed. First, I watched her be incredibly rude to the couple in front of us (young Asians, so you know I was on their side), sighing heavily as they asked for samples.

Then when it was our turn, Chooch tried to order that hazelnut thing and she cut him off with a curt, “We’re out of that.” WELL, PUT SOMETHING ON THE SIGN THEN, HON. So he instead got some orange floral flavor which I didn’t think he would like but he did, so at least one of us had a happy ending.

When it was my turn, I ordered the Owner of a Tony Heart or whatever it was called, and she very exasperatedly said, “Cup or cone” like bitch, lemme finish and you’d know. When she handed the cup to me, I said, “Can I also have the honey driz—-”

“We’re out of that,” she snapped, yet somehow retaining her no-personality blankness.

You guys.

I was super off-put by this. I have always had wonderful service at Millie’s so this came as somewhat of a shock to me, not like I’ve never had shitty service before, but you know.

But worst of all, when I started to eat my ice cream, IT DID NOT TASTE OF SWEET CHEESE AT ALL. It tasted plain! Like vanilla! So I of course pouted over this and Henry was like, “Please just take my ice cream” but at that point, I didn’t EVEN WANT ICE CREAM ANYMORE. Look, I don’t pig-out on ice cream very often anymore and I considered this to be a special treat since Chooch and I have been working out with Jillian so hard. I DIDN’T WANT TO WASTE THE CALORIES ON SOMETHING I DIDN’T TRULY WANT!

I realize that this is about as first world probz as it comes. I am a very self-aware peoples.

So first I complained about it on Twitter and my fellow ice-cream aficionado Chris of Chronica Fame immediately replied and we commiserated about my woes publicly for all to see. THEN I TOOK IT NEXT LEVEL and commented on the picture of the ricotta ice cream that Millie’s had recently posted and said, “Mine did not look like that and you were out of the honey *Sad face*”

Almost immediately, they DMd me! Through a congenial back-and-forth, we deduced that I likely did not get the right scoop and at this point I made sure to let the spokesperson know that the broad slinging that ‘cream was ambivalent at best and they were like OH NO PLZ DESCRIBE HER so that was awkward but I did it and they came back and said that she had actually been called in on her day off but they were not excusing her attitude and will have a talk with her ASAP so then I just felt guilty because we all have our bad days, and I hope that she is actually always like this because those types of people NEED TO BE TOLD ON.

And that’s what I’m here for. Tattletale till I die.

Oh yeah, so this was resolved by Millie’s offering me a free pint of any flavor I want and now I have to go back ASAP and try a REAL scoop of that ricotta stuff and thank god they have other locations now because I’ll probably never go back to the one in Shadyside ever again now that I NARC’d.

2. EATING WITH WORK FRIENDS

I have been pretty sheltered lately, not really on purpose but because I’m so distracted with my hobbies and whatever that I have been slacking at making plans. However! I had food plans two Saturdays in a row with friends and it was a nice shot of social stability.

Two Saturdays ago, I had breakfast at Pamela’s with Jeannie, Wendy, and Summer. We didn’t talk about work at all! It was really nice and tranquil until Jeannie started showing Summer (Wendy’s three-year-old daughter) pictures of her dog because we’re always vying for Summer’s attention. She was already unimpressed with my Everland popcorn purse so then I started showing her pictures of my cats to counteract Jeannie’s dog (ugh he’s cute though but I wanted my cats to win!). Then I pulled out the big guns and started showing her gifs of Taemin and Jinu. She gave me this bored look and was probably wondering how old I am.

(Side note: Then I went home and got a weird stomach bug which only lasted half the day so I’m not sure if it was my food or what. But yeah, that happened, and that’s also how I “accidentally” started watching You on Netflix which Glenn had mentioned that he and his wife were watching but when I saw that PENN BADGLEY is in it, I was interested. I was excited to tell Glenn on Monday that I was watching it and that DAN HUMPHREY from GOSSIP GIRL is in it.

“I didn’t watch that,” he mumbled.

So then I gave him a major spoiler and he mumbled, “Again, I really don’t care.” WOW.)

This last Saturday, BARB and I had lunch at Blue Flame! BARB sent her bacon back because it tasted like fish and this is still endlessly funny to me, so much that when Henry asked me later how Barb is doing, I said, “She sent back her bacon because it tasted like fish” and then I started cracking up.

I always learn the best little nuggets about Barb every time we hang out. This time, she was proud to tell me that she is not as obsessed with Tom Jones anymore (that actually made me sad!) and that when she was younger and traveling with her dad for hockey games, she and her friends would go to the front desk of the hotels and have “Mike Hunt” paged. LOLOLOLOL BARB IS THE BEST. I couldn’t wait to tell Chooch! He didn’t get it at first and just kept saying “Mike Hunt?” over and over which made it even funnier.

Penelope occasionally  wakes me up in the middle of the night because she is straight SCREAMING at this old, dirty yellow pompom that she either loves or hates, I can’t tell, and it is so annoying. I got more sleep when Chooch was an infant, I swear.

3. Stress-ships

I mentioned earlier in this post that I have been having stress dreams and I actually started to write a blog post about it the other night but then I was like THIS AIN’T NO DREAM JOURNAL, YO. However!! Janna had a stress dream about me and I wanted to share it because it’s basically the perfect analogy for our friendship, or, stress-ship.

So apparently in this dream, I had given Janna a thing of blueberries to hold for me but then she ate them and started to panic because I was going to come back for them so she started running around trying to find more blueberries but people kept snatching them from her hands and this made me LOL so much when she told me because that’s exactly the kind of friend I am – the kind that would get pissed and maybe even slap a person if they ate my blueberries.

And I don’t even like blueberries that much! But I would still be mad!

4. A LOT OF MICHAEL MCDONALD 

I naturally do this thing where I sing what I’m saying, which is something that Henry and Chooch love and cherish about me. Lately, after almost every infuriating convo with my aforementioned almost-teen, I walk away singing Michael McDonald’s “I Keep Forgetting” in my head except the lyrics are “I keep forgetting you fucking know everything. I keep forgetting my brain’ll never be as big as yours.”‬

IT MUST BE SO BURDENSOME KNOWING EVERYTHING.

Speaking of Michael McDonald!

Guys, you remember a few weeks ago when we were driving home from Toronto and I heard that old 80s jam “Yah Mo Be There” by James Ingram? Well, that song also features Michael McDonald and when I was talking to Todd about it at work the next day, Glenn kept interrupting to say it was the Doobie Brothers and I was like, “No, it was Michael McDonald” and he again mumbled that it was the Doobie Brothers and I snapped, “NO IT WAS JUST ONE DOOBIE, GLENN! JUST THE ONE! MICHAEL MCDONALD!” Ugh, goddammit.

Anyway, THE VERY NEXT DAY JAMES INGRAM DIED. We were all stunned. It was like the time I unfriended someone on Facebook and then he died. Glenn even said he had goosebumps.

OK, that part wasn’t about Michael McDonald, but it was kind of related.

This also just brought back a memory of when I started dating my ex-boyfriend Jeff. He told me that everyone thought his step-dad looked like Michael McDonald.

“Eh, never mind. You probably don’t know who that is,” he said, not yet knowing that he was dating THE YACHT ROCK QUEEN.

When I eventually met his stepdad, I was like, “Holy shit, he does look like Michael McDonald!” It was uncanny, really. You had to be there.

5. FESTERING FEELINGS ABOUT CERAMICS

Hey guys, I’m about to throw it back here for you. When I was in 4th or 5th grade, my mom and I decided to taken ceramics classes together and if we’re being honest here I’m pretty sure it was my idea. We started going to this place called KIRSTING CERAMICS which was run by a husband and wife in their basement which I know sounds like the premise of a student horror film (THE KILN) and everything was great at first, we painted and kiln’d lots of pumpkins and turkeys for the fall, but then my mom started MAKING FRIENDS there and IGNORING ME and Kathy’s husband was a fucking dickstick who was always acting like I shouldn’t be there when their dumb adopted daughter ran amok like a bull in a…ceramics shop BUT NO ONE EVER SAID SHIT ABOUT THAT.

Eventually, my mom started going without me and I know it was just like her escape from my stepdad or whatever, but I was super butt-hurt about it and reasoned that it was probably just because she was jealous that I was so much better at ceramics than her. Lol.

I don’t remember how long ago this was but those ceramic assholes eventually sold their house and now it’s State Farm Insurance.

“That’s actually where my mom was the night my dad THREW A FORK AT MY HAND ON ST PATRICK’S DAY!” I cried to Henry last week after we drove past the old Kirsting house and I subconsciously memory-purged this whole chapter of my life.

“WOW I GUESS I AM STILL MAD ABOUT THIS,” I yelled, and Henry was just like, “Wow, ya think.”

***************

The only way to officially end this post is with a Taemin outro, sorry. “Artistic Groove”‘ is the “b-side” he’s been also performing on all the music shows and at first it didn’t stop my heart or anything but it’s had a slow burn on me over the week and now I think I might like it more than “Want” – especially toward the end when he starts doing these things with his voice that remind me of my favorite Sophie B. Hawkins song (“Don’t Stop Swaying,” OBVI) and it is like warm nostalgia-syrup is being poured on my dumb pancake face.

I don’t know what that means exactly but it all starts around the 2:54 mark, and specifically at 3:07 he sounds like a goddamn angel and I want to punch Henry in the face for not being able to pull off wearing a white ruffled blouse.

I didn’t live blog our drive to Newark yesterday because I’m L-Z, but I suppose today I will keep a running list of all the times Henry angers me because if today is anything like yesterday, it will be a pocketful of pissed off posies.

It’s 8:09am and we are heading out of Newark on a dreary, cold President’s Day. As if Newark wasn’t depressing enough on a hot summer day…

We were here just for the Red Velvet concert last night, and in a miraculous turn of events, Henry actually booked us a hotel downtown right across from where the concert was and the hotel was actually nice and moderately boutique-ish so I can’t even complain about anything! Now we’re on the hunt for a quick breakfast so I’m sure that will incite a riot inside this rental car at some point. I will be sure to keep you posted.

8:40am: We successfully found a place to eat (Prestige Diner which isn’t even a diner it’s a moderately-scaled restaurant) without bloodshed and then Henry’s stupid phone volume was on full blast and his GPS broad announced to the whole restaurant that his signal was lost and Chooch and I are so hateful.

Here’s super-cool badass Chooch in his faux-leather hooded jacket and Outsiders shirt, with a big glass of chocolate milk.

Ew wtf my pancakes came with something billed as “low-fat yogurt” and it was unlike anything I have ever experienced. I think it’s mixed with cream cheese??!! IT IS SO BAD! But Henry is sitting here picking at it and I wish he wouldn’t because now he’s going to give this establishment the false impression that they served me something edible. My lord, Henry will eat shit off a shoe, I fucking swear to Taemin’s perfectly-pouted lips.

IF CHOOCH KICKS ME ONE MORE TIME UNDER THE TABLE, I’M GOING TO PUT HIM ON THE MENU AS A PRESIDENTS DAY BRUNCH SPECIAL.

I need to make a friend from Pittsburgh who likes Kpop so I can have someone else to travel with for concerts BECAUSE THIS ARRANGEMENT WITH HENRY & CHOOCH IS NOT WORKING FOR ME ANYMORE. THEY ARE ANNOYING. I HAVE NO SPACE. I CAN’T BREATHE.

That waitress was really going to pack up the yogurt for us LOL

WOW that place was super overpriced and had no personality. It was basically like if Denny’s rebranded to cater to yuppies. I would not recommend. Another Yelp misfire. Apparently though Henry’s toast was really good but I wouldn’t know bc he said it right as he popped the last corner into his grinding face-hole.

But yeah, go to the Prestige if you want a Bloody Mary or mimosa with your basic, unimpressive breakfast.

I originally wanted to eat at the Summit Diner based solely on this Yelp review but Henry was all THERE IS NO EXIT ON THIS ROAD FIND SOMETHING ELSE. There’s never an exit for places I want to go to, how convenient for Henry.

GET ‘EM, JIM G.!!!

9:30am: We just drove past GHOST PONY ROAD.

10:31am: I was feeling depressed about BIGBANG’s military hiatus (this is at least once a day so don’t worry) but then we just drove past Dorney Park so I got briefly excited but then double-depressed because its winter and we still have like two months to go before amusement season is back. Ugh. Life, amirite.

10:49am: And here’s a Medical Malady Moment brought to you by Deer Park water. I had to ask Henry to open a new bottle of water for me and he was like OH COME ON YOU CAN OPEN THIS but I COULDNT because my hands are very weak right now and I have no energy in them so Chooch opened for me but henry continued to yammer on about how I’m making it up because of all the times I’ve punched him (LOVINGLY, thanks) and I was like, “Yes, but that’s always later in the day! In the mornings, I can’t do that! My hands are sensitive!” Honestly if I start to make a Fist right now, my hands will feel very ticklish and I won’t be able to close them all the way and now henry is grilling me about this. HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN HAPPENING? I don’t know, years. YEARS?? THEN U BETTER CALL A DOCTOR. But he’s just pretend-caring because he’s trying not to laugh which is awesome because I’m just over here squeezing invisible lemons to build up my hand strength so I can rip the skin off his face (at the next rest area. I don’t want him to wreck and kill us all).

11:13am: Second time on this trip that I stopped somewhere to pee and the bathroom was out of order I DONT CARE IF A MAN IS IN THERE CLEANING IT I’M GOING TO PEE MY PANTS.

I just threw a tantrum and left.

Sheetz is dead to me.

11:32am: Just stopped at a Flying J down the street for Operation: Urination and there was a tour bus there so I had to stand in line and listen to ZZ Top “Legs.” Then I couldn’t get the knot out of the scarf I’m using as a belt and it was a real sit-com struggle. But my bladder is under control now, and I got to slam two doors on Henry. “Feel better now?” he asked. Wait until my hand strength comes back later and then ask me after my fist meets your face, jackass.

11:53am: Oh fuck, I was looking at my blog stats and someone had viewing one of my old prank call posts where I used to use the IP Relay service to harass people and I was just reading some of the transcripts out loud to Henry who is absolutely disgusted because this is the one thing that can make me laugh harder than anything else and my face started SPASMING from the overexertion my hysterical laughter was causing and I am ugly crying so hard now and losing my voice. “Remember when they changed it and made people formally register to use it?” I wheezed to Henry, who snapped, “Yeah, because of you.” Then I said that was the best time of my life, using that service for evil, and I think Henry is leaving me now.

12:52am I wish I had been keeping a tally of the amount of times Henry said he’s done with us and this is THE LAST TRIP. OK tough guy.

1:45pm: Remember when I said Sheetz is dead to me? Well, it’s been reanimated because it’s LUNCHTIME and I am weak for their Boom Boom sauce on veggie wraps. Henry is bitching about how outrageous the turnpike is and lamenting the fact that our EZ Pass is in our other car and I’m like “go on and rant about your Dad Probz, I’m just gonna deepthroat this veggie wrap in the background.”

Also, I’m going to start pronouncing “pizza” the way it’s spelled from now on. This is ridiculous.

I couldn’t finish my banana so I gave it to Henry but he didn’t want it so he asked Chooch if he wanted it and it practically turned into a trial where Chooch wouldn’t take the banana until it was proven that Henry had not bitten it.

2:12pm: TAEMIN TIME. We made it about 2 hours listening to other things, that’s pretty good, right?

3:20pm: Is it Rumspringa? We just stopped at a rest area and saw a couple of Amish-looking runaways with a car full of wicker baskets.

Also, I did a triple-sneeze and then became extremely congested out of nowhere so now Dr. Henry is telling me that it’s probably a combination of the altitude and the weather. I’m sure he’ll extrapolate more on the next episode of HENRY MANSPLAINS IT ALL on whatever AM station jerk men listen to.

Me walking away when Henry’s talking:

View this post on Instagram

Taemin left the stage without knowing that he was supposed to stay till the end since the winners were not present today so he just started dancing awkwardly at the end LMAO why is he like this

A post shared by W A N T (@holy.shinee) on Feb 15, 2019 at 3:39am PST

4:03pm: We are currently in the Liberty Tunnel and I am so desperate to be home right now. How did it take this long to get here?! WHY DID WE STOP FOR BREAKFAST?? WHY DOES HENRY DRIVE LIKE AN ELDER?

Ok, I know the answer to that. But still. Winter road trips are so tedious and uneventful. And it’s also snowing. Well I’m signing off here. I’m preparing to drop-roll out of the car before Henry even has a chance to put it in park. It’s been real, NEWARK.

I thought it would be fun, for this particular FRIDAY FIVE, to share five ridiculous(ly awesome) workouts that I love to do when I come home from a particularly stressful day and need to blow off steam, or if just need a little mood-boost, or maybe it’s my day off from more strenuous workouts but I still wanna MOOOOVE BITCH, you know how it be.

To me, the best workouts are the ones that make you crack up. Yeah, CRUNCHLESS ABS, amirite.

So here we go.

1. THE GRIND

Awwwww shit, Eric Nies, boi. This came up in my feed the other day and I was so giddy and nostalgic. I definitely rented this from Blockbuster several times in the 90s (also, the Jody Watley workout!!).

“Wow, this wasn’t sponsored by Adidas or anything,” Henry mumbled, not budging from the couch even once to show off his Fly Girl moves.

2. Leslie Sansone

I’m sharing this particular workout because it’s the one where ELIZABETH DISAPPEARS but really it’s because she’s so sweaty two minutes in that she needs to towel off.

In all seriousness though, these workouts are perfect for when you have been sitting all day but don’t really want to get all up in some hardcore cardio boot camp bullshit. They’re also great to do in the winter when it’s too gross to go out for an evening neighborhood canvas.

3. Fuckin’ gospel aerobics, that’s what’s up

I will never stop recommending Paul Eugene because he cracks me up and I feel, dare I say, JOYOUS, doing these workouts!

Plus you get to grunt gratuitously and yell YEE HAW.

4. CHER

I swear I didn’t actively seek this one out. YouTube just hand-delivered it to me with a lacy g-string bow on top. My favorite thing about this is that every time Cher is in my periphery, I forget what I’m doing and think it’s Frank N. Furter getting ready to sing Sweet Transvestite.

5. KPOPALOOZA!!

Kpop dance workouts are still my ultimate go-to for X-Or-Cize. They cheer me up and it doesn’t feel like a workout at ALL–compared to the level 7 Jillian Michael’s Body Revolution that Chooch and I just finished which included crow push-ups and one leg push-ups but let me tell you what — I am ready for some Kpop-wiggles right now.

Anyway, this is an EXCLUSIVE playlist I made for one of the times Janna came over to Kpop-X with us.

Aren’t I a great pretend-trainer? I hope you feel inspired to try some of these, and please let me know what your favorite workout videos were back in the day. I had a soft spot for Denise Austin and Gilad lol. (AND JACKI SORENSON.)

Just sitting here reminiscing with Henry about the time I baked him a surprise cake for Valentines Day but of course he doesn’t remember because:

• he’s old
• he doesn’t love me
• I baked it in my dreams
• all of the above

Anyway, I think it actually happened because I have pics for all those “pics or it didn’t happen” people, which carries way more weight than the 8000 words I wrote about it, which you can FIND DOWN BELOW, whoa repost from 2012.

***********

I don’t know what came over me, but two weeks ago I was sitting at my desk at work when the most ridiculously out-of-character idea cloud settled upon my head, and it told me to bake Henry a cake for Valentine’s Day.

There are several things wrong with this:

1. I have never baked without supervision.
2. I have never baked a cake, nor have I ever wanted to. (I do like decorating cakes that other people have made though, usually in a mean-spirited fashion.)
3. I do not like baking. Or cooking. Or being in the kitchen at all.
4. Since when do I ever willingly want to do nice things for Henry?

Natalie happened to stop by to talk to me right after my plan was devised and I eagerly filled her in. She gave me a horrified look and then walked away.

See? Everyone knows this is not an Erin thing to do! And more importantly, HENRY knows this goes against everything I’m all about which means he would never expect it. Ever. Never ever.

I posted about it on Facebook (I blocked him from that particular status update) and the reactions were mixed, everything from shock and trepidation from the people who know that the only recipe I’m capable of following is one for disaster, suspicion from some who are not used to seeing my sweet side, and then there were all the “You Should”s with their unsolicited suggestions of what I should make instead.

But my mind was made up: red velvet cake, cream cheese frosting. No cake pops or cupcakes or chocolate-covered strawberries. No bakery-bought cake. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it big and do it my way.

A week before Valentine’s Day, I did some subtle recon.

“Why don’t you ever bake cakes?” I asked Henry out of the blue one night, because that’s how I do subtle. “Is it because it’s too HARD?” If it’s too difficult for Henry, then it’s impossible for me.

“Because we don’t have any cake pans,” he mumbled, not seeming to think it was a weird question at all.

The next day at work, I was freaking out about cake pans, which is how I learned that there are many options in acquiring one. For instance, Target sells cake pans! I never would have known. I learn so much about life at work.

But then Natalie said I could borrow hers! So then I had two 8in cake pans in my purse when I left work on Friday and Henry looked at me weirdly when he heard them clanging together.

And then he looked at me even more weirdly, now with a dash of fear, when I told him that I needed something for his Valentine’s gift but Natalie let me borrow hers, like it was her diaphragm and this was 1996.

“I don’t want to know,” he said.

After I took Chooch to school Monday morning, I looked at the frosting and cake mix recipe 45752 times to see what I would need, then I collected all the courage I could muster and set off to the grocery store. A solo trip to the grocery store. Whoever would’ve thought? When I t old Chooch what I was doing that day, he stopped everything and said, “Are you sure you shouldn’t just buy the cake?”

Nice to know my son has so much faith in me.

I was so nervous and apprehensive that I acted like I was on Supermarket Sweep, grabbed what I needed (I even got coffee creamer because I knew I was almost out; I’m suddenly responsible!), checked my heart rate and got the FUCK out. I really hate grocery stores. Unless it’s one of the fancy ones. Then I like to tag along with Henry and increase our bill by $150. Henry really enjoys that too.

The actual cake-baking wasn’t too bad, you guys! I even found the hand-mixer thingie and the whisk-y thingies which were in the second drawer I looked in! Clearly all of these things meant that baking was in my destiny. And you know, in between heaping mouthfuls of cake batter, I smiled to myself and thought about how surprised Henry was going to be that I was doing something selfless for him, because when do I ever do anything for him, aside from making pretty faces for him, filling his days with my warm and sunny disposition, and BEARING HIS CHILD?

Yep, everything was fine until the cake was done and I tried to remove it by flipping the pan upside down and shaking. A huge chunk flopped out, but another huge chunk remained adhered to the bottom of the pan. (Yes, I greased the pan! Why does everyone keep asking me that!?) Thank god for Facebook; I posted this picture with a caption begging for help, and my guardian angels asured me that this wasn’t fatal and that there were ways to piece it back together. And then Kaitlin texted me and said that happens to her all the time and I was like, “YES, I’M ON THE SAME PAGE AS KAITLIN!” Whatever that means!

Parts of the cake appeared burnt while other portions were definitely undercooked. I shrugged it off because let’s be real – this cake was mostly just a symbol at this point. If pieces of it turned out edible, well then that’s a bonus.

Once I dumped out the second cake, I stowed them away in the attic (yes, they were covered! I’m not that stupid!) and spent the rest of my day watching MTV like a person like me should be doing.

The next morning, Chooch was brushing his teeth and admitted to me that he peeked at the cake.

“It looks weird,” he said, his voice full of toothpaste and concern.

“BECAUSE IT’S NOT DONE YET! God!” I was feeling pretty defensive at that point.

After I took Chooch to school, it was time to make the frosting. I waited a whole day to do this because all of my Google research told me that it is best to frost a cake the next day. Plus, I didn’t feel like being in the kitchen any longer on Monday. But I realized I didn’t have enough butter and had to go BACK TO THE STORE which caused me great anxiety. Henry called while I was doing this and all I would tell him was that I was working on the second thing I needed to do but a wrench was thrown into the plan and I had to go back to the store.

Goddamn does it take butter a lot of time to thaw! Jessy texted me some ways to speed up the process but they all involved copious opportunies for me to fuck up. So I just sat on it for awhile instead.

The cats went apeshit when I was using the mixer. They have never, in 14 years, seen me do that before. I started to pretend like I was going to go after Marcy with it but then batter started flying around like arterial spray so I shoved it back in the bowl. God, baking is messy. I still don’t know where the frosting landed. And you know what, that shouldn’t be my concern. I already did enough, Henry can clean up. Right?

Aside from when I dropped the bowl and caught it by slamming it against the cabinets with my crotch (I did all the preparations on the 2 inch slat of counterspace in front of the sink, even though we have an entire table I could have used), frosting proved to be pretty easy to make! I did have to ask Google if confectioners powder is the same as powered sugar, though. (It is, in case you didn’t know.)

OK, I lied. I wanted to see how it felt to be cheery and positive for once. No, it wasn’t easy! It wasn’t easy at all! It took forever to mix, and my arms were hurting so bad, and it was jerking me around and not in a pleasurable way either. And then when it was time to slather it on the cake, my spatula thing kept pulling up parts of the cake and then it was mixing in with the frosting and I was getting so angry that I found myself crying for the eight time since the nigthmare started the day before, and if that shit didn’t taste so fucking good, it was about to get set on fire and chucked at the nearest Katy Perry fan.

And then I was like, “Fuck it. Once he sees I baked him a cake, of course he’s not going to deduct points for it being a hot mess.” Because the whole point is that, hello, this bitch baked him a cake for the first (and last) time ever!

When I first had the idea, I thought it would be cute to decorate it with all the things we share a mutual love for, but then I realized that’s only one thing (aside from our kid, obviously).

So it’s only slightly a wreck! I was pretty proud of myself, to be honest. But the sense of accomplishment was not enough to make me forget the electricutionary feeling of frazzled nerves, so no, I will not be making this a hobby. 

Henry was nervous. “This is only the second time in 11 years you’ve done something for me on Valentine’s Day,” he said. It’s true. The last time I gave him an empty ring box which was supposed to hold a key to my house, but I left it in the paper bag from the hardware store.

He said, “I’m going to guess whatever you were doing was something you don’t normally do….which could be just about anything.”

Oh my god, he’s almost smiling! But then he looked at it again and said, “What are all the lumps in the frosting?”

“It’s cake!” I wailed. Ugh!

The more he looked at the cake, the less his lips held the smile-curve. It looked like apprehension was setting in, like he was going to make me taste it first. But he apparently ate a piece while I was at work and lived to tell about it. (I have no evidence that he didn’t force our son to eat it on his behalf, though.)

I only half-considered adding the zest of Hemlock to the frosting, I swear. 

That night, after Chooch went to bed, Henry slipped into the kitchen, shutting the door behind him. I kept waiting for him to come out with a ring* or at least some vintage porn hidden in a souffle, but apparently my big Vday gift was dinner. 

(*You know I would have been displeased if he had proposed on a day as obvious as February 14th. I’M NEVER HAPPY!)

“You ALWAYS cook dinner,” I whined. “I baked you a CAKE!”

He spent the rest of the night kissing my ass and then I let him scratch my back, so all was not lost. 

(Wait, this sounds like a regular night at our house.)

I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life smearing this in his face.

I set my alarm extra early this morning in preparation for this but even with all the teasers last week, could us Taemints ever really be prepared?

DO THOSE SNAKES EVEN KNOW HOW LUCKY THEY ARE?

Taemin’s voice is like the fog that covers the road on a late October night while you’re driving with a date through the woods to a haunted hayride. THAT IS A BIG MOOD.

So, Taemin’s comeback was today and G-Dragon updated his Instagram for the first time since enlisting in the military a year ago and I am expected to go to work today and act like a sane person through all of this OH OK. Just… don’t talk to me today unless it’s about this. I’m a mess.