Weekend Hullabaloo: Bulletpoint Edition

SATURDAY!

• This was the last weekend before school started and even though technically there are still a few more weeks of summer, IT JUST FEELS LIKE IT’S OVER OK. Nothing felt right, wah.
• On Saturday, Chooch and I went to a birthday party for my work friend Colleen’s one-year-old boy, Owen. OMG he’s so cute and makes me want to HAVE A BABY THERE I SAID IT. I was the first co-worker to show up, but everyone there was super nice to us and didn’t make us feel like the “bastard guests” which is sometimes how it feels when you go to parties ruled predominantly by family and close friends. Thanks for making us not feel like redheaded stepkids, Colleen!

Chooch totally got ganged up on by two older girls, haha.

• Later, I met my brother Corey at Blue Flame for some grilled cheese/vent sesh. We hadn’t seen each other in awhile, so it was really nice. He’s pretty much all the family I’ve got so I can’t take that for granted, yo.
• When I came home, we walked to Brookline Boulevard for ICE CREAM because that is what we do on the weekends, apparently, IS EAT ICE CREAM OK. The place on the Blvd usually has red velvet and it’s fucking delicious. Here is a video of our walk to get ice cream, because this is what I do on the trolley: edit videos on my phone so that I don’t have to m ake eye contact with creeps (including myself in the window reflection).

• In the first part of the video, Chooch and I trying to hide from Henry, which is an All American Pasttime for us.
• In the second part, some totally fucking….I was going to say “weirdos” but we’ll just go with “Brookliners” because tomato/tomahto….were having a cow over one of the machines in the ice cream parlor full of those rubbery “eye popper” toys, and the husband LOST FIFTY CENTS trying to get one, and you best believe he complained to the ice cream scooper who was pretty much like, “Frankly, I don’t give a shit.” So then his wife gave him more change and all he got WAS SOME TINY LITTLE PIG-THING!! He was PISSED at this point, but I think whatever slight mental disability he had was preventing him tfrom expressing anger in any capacity other than hilarious whining. He gave Chooch the pig and then his wife was all, “HERE LITTLE BOY HAVE SOME QUARTERS LITTLE BOY TAKE MY MONEY LITTLE BOY” and I said, “Go ahead” because better someone else’s quarters than my own. AND CHOOCH GOT THE SAME LITTLE PIG! Oh, I thought the husband was going to have a shit fit. Him and his long, tiny braid and Rolling Stones shirt. When we left, Henry and I exchanged “WTF” eyes while Chooch said, “That lady was really nice.”
• The third part is actually from Sunday, when Rick Astley’s seminal hit was dripping sweetly from the mall’s inhouse speakers, right after we ate pizza in the food court and HENRY REUNITED WITH SOME GUY HE USED TO “PLAY WITH” IN MIDDLE SCHOOL! Oh my fuck, I get so excited when I see some missing piece from Henry’s clandestine youth-puzzle. And then I found out that they’re actually already Facebook friends, so clearly I don’t spend enough time creeping on Henry’s whopping 78 friend collection.

SUNDAY!

• Chooch had another birthday party to go to on Sunday (this one was for a school friend), but Janna wanted me to go check out an apartment with her so I got out of that one just in the nick of time. (Not that I don’t like birthday parties, but I clench up in fear at the possibilty of hanging out with other school moms. God forbid I should make friends.) Anyway, this apartment is atop of some man’s garage who LIVES ON A GOLF COURSE IN A $500,000 HOUSE. You better believe I told Janna to take it. The apartment itself is tiny but in immaculate condition and the owner was basically like, “YOU ARE FAMILY NOW AND CAN USE THE DECK WHENEVER YOU WANT OK PLEASE USE MY DECK.” I was like, “Janna, you have to use the fucking deck.” He thought we were both 20 and, when describing his nationally-ranked motocross stepdaughter, pointed to me and explained, “She’s real small. About your size.” I LIKE YOU, GUY. Totally colorful character and I have to admit this was a motivating factor behind my decision to encourage Janna to snatch this place up. Here’s hoping this deal doesn’t sour! (Janna if you’re reading, I don’t think it will. JUST DON’T PLAY YOUR ACE OF BASE CD’S TOO LOUD!!!) What a stange meeting.
• After last minute school shoe shopping at the most run-down mall in Western Pennsylvania (remind me to write a mean letter to Journeys; their employees were too busy ironing out social plans to help us find shoes for Chooch’s caveman feet), we went and GOT ICE CREAM AGAIN. Fuck, do we live large.

• And then I had a temper tantrum at the grocery store, because I hate grocery stores.

So, all in all it was a good weekend, but it felt weird. I’ve been distracting myself from summer-mourning by throwing myself headfirst into pie party* planning. I already sent out the official invite on Facebook OMG. This is going to be the best one, I can feel it. Henry and I are doing a bunch of DIY bullshit this weekend in preparation, so LOOK OUT all of you Pinterest hoes: Erin and Henry are going to be spraypainting and gluing shit.

*(This links back to the very first pie party. I had no idea then that it would be become an annual “thing,” but I’m so glad it did!)

P.S. Sorry for being so shouty. I guess I’m acting out because I had a pretty shitty night at work and I couldn’t use this tone toward some of the people who deserved it. (No one in my department! They’re all on my good side. So far.)