Every damn day.
Today, I feel alive. I can’t think of a better way to describe it; but the sun was out and it was balmy AND FRIDAY ON TOP OF ALL THAT. Plus everyone at work was in a super good mood because basically everyone had Really Exciting Plans after work. You know, everyone except us late shift people. But whatever, at least I got a free lunch today.
- I got a free lunch today! Some of us went to Penn Ave Fish Company with the two Australians and the department boss ended up coming along too and she generously picked up the tab. It was exciting for me because I ordered a salmon sandwich, and when the waitress asked me how I wanted it done, I knew to say “medium” because that’s how Henry answers that question on my behalf. Then my co-worker Cheryl was asked the same question and was like, “What do you mean? I want it cooked” and then proceeded to talk for another 5 minutes about how she’s never been asked that and I was internally gloating because duh.
- I watched the first episode of season 2 of Hannibal today and realized that I somehow missed the last episode of season 1 because I was pretty fucking lost. <–I’M SO INTERESTING!
- You know what else I watched this week? (OMG TV TALK!) I watched “Those Who Kill” which apparently has received abysmal reviews but I actually really liked it and not just because it was filmed in Pittsburgh, which I hadn’t even heard about until recently when I saw an article where Chloe Sevigny was raving about Pittsburgh. “I had no idea she was here!” I cried to Henry. “Yeah, I can’t believe she didn’t call you,” he mumbled. And then I asked him if he knew she was an intern for Sassy back in the day and he was like, “Why the fuck would I know that?” And I can’t believe I just typed so many sentences about her because honestly, I don’t really care about her either way. But I thought that show was good, so if you want to see what my dumb city looks like, you should watch it. It’s on A&E Monday nights after Bates Motel, word.
Every damn night.
For some reason, a lot of people at work this week asked me what I’m doing for St. Patrick’s Day. Because of my dumb name, I guess. (I’m not even Irish!) I don’t celebrate St. Patrick’s Day because of the time my step-dad threw a fork at me on St. Patrick’s Day. But instead of getting into some awkward yarn about abuse, I just told everyone that I was scarred from all the years of being made fun of for Erin Go “Bra.” (Except for Barb; she got the real story. It happened so long ago that I actually laugh when I tell it now but Barb had this horrified expression on her face. For some reason, that made me laugh harder.)
My Stern Profile (& Eyebrow Piercing Scar)
Every morning, I check the weather before Chooch and I step out into the shitty winter world. Yesterday’s weather didn’t seem too bone-chilling, so I told Chooch he could ditch the hat and gloves for once. And then we started walking and OMGCOLD. Our cheeks were red by the time we made it to school and I said, “I swear when I checked the weather, it said it was like 29 degrees!” “THAT WAS PROBABLY THE HIGH!” Chooch yelled at me. God, then check the weather yourself next time!!!
- Speaking of Chooch, I got him to agree to do a bi-monthly “Consulting Chooch” guest post, where he will answer questions and give life advice.
- Last night, Henry and I were watching the hockey game when I shouted, “I KNOW WHAT I’M PAINTING NEXT! A sundae.” Henry mumbled, “Ok.” I went on to say, “But instead of a cherry, there’s going to be A NIPPLE on top!” Henry groaned. “No! It’s going to be black person’s nipple, with some of the skin still around it so it looks like chocolate syrup,” I added, actually crying at this point. “You’re disgusting,” Henry spat.
- After painting an ice cream cone with teeth in it to add to the eyeball-laden cherry pie and my upcoming Fudge Nipple Sundae, I decided that this particular series of paintings should be called “From the Kitchen of Jeffrey Dahmer.” I’m pretty stoked on it.
Chooch finally got to bring home the “Self-Portrait” he did at school last fall and that motherfucker went right into a frame. I MEAN, LOOK AT IT. It’s so weird, so Chooch.
- The other night, my eyes accidentally looked at a headline that said Kim Kardashian is the Marilyn Monroe of our time. Am I dead?
- Sunday afternoon, Chooch came over to the couch and casually asked, “So…you watching the Oscars tonight? I heard Ellen is hosting again.” Um…no, and also, who are you? I guess people were chatting about it on Minecraft? I didn’t have to watch the Oscars anyway, because 3/4 of my Facebook feed and also my CNN notifications (WTF?) alerted me to everything I “missed.”
- Like all that Idina Whatsherfuck bullshit. I started to wonder if the reason I just don’t get that whole Frozen/”Let It Go” fad is because I don’t have a kid, but then I remembered I have a kid. So…
- I was excited today at lunch to finally get a chance to ask the Boy Australian about being in a band (he was very vague about it though) and then I asked him if he knows Hands Like Houses BECAUSE THEY ARE FROM CANBERRA, AUSTRALIA SO HE MUST, RIGHT? No, he hasn’t heard of them. The scene kid in me says we can’t be friends, but the quasi-grown-up in me says to maybe give him another chance. He seems nice enough. I like the Girl One too! She is really cute and laughs a lot. I wonder if she goes into the bathroom and blogs about all the dumb things she hears Barb say all day long, though.
- Henry cleaned out my closet the other night (literally, I mean. I still have tons of metaphorical skeletons in my psychic closet, don’t worry) and kept texting me pictures of all the embarrassing shit he was finding, because my closet is essentially my childhood bedroom stuffed into a bunch of boxes. Like a petition I started in 8th grades when Jason Jones wouldn’t go out with me because “skaters don’t date wiggers” and I was like “OMG I am not a wigger” even though I totally was, I just used different names for it because that word is so fucking offensive. Meanwhile, Jason was really just trying to find a nice way of saying, “I don’t want to date you because you’re fat and have braces, but worst of all, YOU ARE REALLY FUCKING OBNOXIOUS.” Because I really was. Not anymore, though, right guys?
- One night, Jason came up in conversation and I was telling Henry about how he left my school to go to [Insert Pittsburgh All Boys School] but I couldn’t find him on Facebook, and Henry was all, “Uh, did you try searching for “Jason Jones/[Insert Pittsburgh All Boys School]” AND BINGO, I FOUND HIM. Henry is the best stalker-partner. Anyway, BULLET DODGED for real. He’s weird-looking now. I think he probably was back then, too, honestly.
LOOK WHAT ELSE HENRY FOUND! A creepy nude painting that my death row pen pal Greg made for me in 2004! Henry was just as disgruntled about it this time around too, because “STOP GIVING PRISONERS PICTURES OF US!” I don’t know if I should be scared or 100% flattered that Greg had to imagine me naked in order to paint this. Don’t answer that.
- I feel like I should end on that note. How do you come back from that? You don’t.
I really like doing these weekly bullet point posts, you guys. IT HELPS ME GET SOME SHIT OFF MY CHEST.