Jun 172016

Another long week is coming to an end and I’m ready to slam the motherfucking door on it. BUHBYE, STRANGE WEEK FULL OF MURDER AND MAYHEM. Can we call this a…circle point post? Dot point? I don’t want to use the b-word anymore. Fuck the b-word and the g-words too.

  • We had a low-key surprise birthday cake for Corey last Saturday at The House. The garbage truck is an inside joke relevant to what our lives have become since March 30th. In light of recent events, it was a relatively somber cake-eating session, but I was pretty high off the fact that I saved the whole entire day when my mom announced she forgot to get candles and a lighter. I’ve been rummaging through enough drawers in that house lately to immediately summon up visions of a box of birthday candles from the 1970s in a drawer behind the game room bar, and an entire canister of matchbooks in my aunt Susie’s room (I chose a book from Tambellini’s in Bridgeville and it got shit done).



  • Chooch was in a foul mood during the cake-eating session. I think he partially hangry but mostly just being spoiled because he wanted to go to the craft store and get that loom shit that he’s all into now and we were like WE WILL GO AFTER THIS JUST SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH but he’s Chooch and also my spawn, and people like me are unable to keep their mouths shut, so he just kept needling away at our sanity and then started to CRY because who needs drama classes? Not this son of a bitch. His scowl immediately made me think of this picture that Henry took of me years and years ago at Buttermilk Falls. He learns from the best. Scowls all day.
    • He did end up getting his loom shit, but only because he used his own money. I wasn’t rewarding his behavior with free gifts! Bitch, please. He didn’t care. He even asked a Pat Catan’s worker to help him find what he needed because he is way more independent than me. (I guess maybe he gets that from Henry.)


  • I purposely switched my late shifts with Amber2 so that I wouldn’t be a zombie at work on Monday since I knew I would be getting home really late from Cleveland. I was looking forward to sleeping in a little, but then I heard Chooch yell something about a succulent, and then I heard the spine-tingling sound of GLASS BEING SWEPT UP. Those little fuckers. Apparently the fireplace mantel is no longer safe, either. THERE IS NOWHERE FOR ME TO PUT MY PLANTS NOW. (Until Henry finally makes me some macrame hanging plant holders. Kara sent me some DIYs to help him get started!) Of course, Chooch only half-cleaned up after his dumb cat (I KNOW IT WAS DREW) so instead of sleeping in, my plant-induced anxiety had me out of bed at normal time and downstairs cleaning up the carnage. Then I tried to relax with a nice glass of cold brew and fucking Penelope was trying to get all up in it. CAN’T A BITCH DRINK HER ICED COFFEE IN PEACE AFTER CLEANING UP DIRT!? Fuck.
    • Speaking of cold brew: guys, get yo’selves a person who learns how to make bad-ass motherfuckin’ cold brew even when they hate coffee. Because that’s what my person does. And he is the goddamn best.


  • And then there’s the leader of Plantpocalypse: fucking Drew.
  • Did I tell you about the time a few weeks ago when I almost got HIT BY A CAR? Well, I almost got HIT BY A CAR, you guys. I was walking to the trolley shuttle (Henry’s fault already, as you can see) and I was crossing the street IN A CROSSWALK when this woman came careening around the bend. I saw her coming and thought, “Oh surely this dumb cooze is going to slow her roll.” FALSE. She just kept coming and then she saw me at the last second, when I WAS LEAPING TO SAFETY. I have never come that close to getting hit by a car, but she was literal centimeters away from clipping me. We made eye contact and I screamed, “HEY!!!!” at the same time she mouthed the words, “OH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY” and then drove off, leaving guilty fumes in her wake. I hope she stewed over that all day, because I know I sure did. I wanted to press charges at one point, but Henry was all, “Yeah but….did she even hit you?” OK, WHITE KNIGHT.
    • The perils of taking the trolley! Henry is trying to have me killed!


  • Remember when banana clips were the shit? Chooch doesn’t. He was like, “But why would someone want to wear this in their hair?” Indeed, son.
    • I never wore banana clips because they didn’t look right on me. I did wear those big floppy bows that came attached to french barrettes. Oh man, I had so many of them. I think I’ll wear one to work on Monday and make Ethan jealous.
      • Because he doesn’t have hair.
        • Although, Amber1 did offer to let him borrow hers.
      • He does have a beard, though.

  • My excitement for the week, aside from the PENGUINS VICTORY PARADE, which I will post about separately, was watching the first episode of the new season of MTV’s Are You the One and recognizing that one of the guys is from SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE.
    • My life is so full.
  • Speaking of a full life, I watched this on YouTube last night because my aunt has me all stoked for Gino Vannelli:

  • Today is Thank God It’s Emarosa Friday, so I shared the new Emarosa video with my WORK HOSTAGES and now both Ambers have agreed, upon their own volition, that they will go with me to see Emarosa next time they’re in town.
    • Which is next month at Warped Tour, but I don’t foresee that happening, so we’ll just wait for the next tour, I guess.
    • And then I heard Amber2 admit that she “sometimes has a soft spot for emo music” so now I’m probably going to start making her playlists.
      • EMAROSA ISN’T EMO but that will be a lesson for another Friday. Emo is a tricky subject.


  • Chooch found a Rick Astley tape at my Pappap’s house and went nuts over it. OH THE THINGS WE FIND.
  • Speaking of Chooch (but not Rick Astley), he took a page out of my manual and recorded his nemesis LARRY bitching about being under-appreciated. Sometimes I really love my kid.
    • I mean, always! I always love my kid.

  • I accidentally stood up my friend Stacey for dinner last Tuesday. I can’t even believe it and I feel like such a royal asshole. And it wasn’t even like I had blown her off for better plans! It was just another evening at The House, taking out garbage and having Why So Formal pizza. But everything going on has turned my brain into mush and most of the time, I don’t even know what day it is. So basically, what Henry said was going to happen to me is finally starting to happen. “You need to pull back,” he said. “You’re getting too invested,” he said.
    • But, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
    • Anyway, my point is that I’m now officially That Person who is too self-involved to remember a goddamn dinner date. Ugh, I hate myself.
  • Anyway, back to me and my life. Today on my lunch break I went to Nicholas Coffee to buy a new bag of coffee for work because I used the last of my Cafe Orange blend and I can’t be expected to work an entire day on only one cup of coffee. I had every hope and intention of buying Maple Cinnamon but they didn’t have it. Right as the voices in my head had agreed with each other that Vanilla Buttercream was the way to go, a young girl breezed up to me at the counter and asked in the most bored and apathetic tone ever if she could help me. I DON’T KNOW, CAN YOU?! I nervously ordered my bag of coffee and then stuttered when she asked, “Whole bean?” because she had me so flustered with her brash 70-year truck stop diner waitress attitude. I managed to tell her I wanted it ground and then also slid one of those random Ice Cube chocolates onto the counter next to my credit card. When she came back with my total, I asked her if she also rang up the chocolate, and she waved it off with an eye roll. I started to thank her for hooking it up and she angrily spat, “IT’S JUST 50 CENTS.” I ate that Ice Cube on my way through Market Square and though it was delicious, it was marred by the bitter notes of confusion and humility.
    • But my coffee tastes fucking amazing, so I’ll keep going there and enduring the emotionally jarring customer service I consistently receive. It’s all part of the experience, really.

And that’s all for now.

  7 Responses to “Blog Marrow”

  1. I came home the other day to find one of my stone plants on the groubd with a bite mark in it. WTF dogs?!

  2. I dream of the day we can go to Octane in Atlanta together. Their lattes are so magical that I can’t even liken it to anything else. It’s ten times better than the best coffee I’ve ever had. The interior of the place is so fucking hip, and so are it’s patrons and staff, but the staff has never been anything but warm and welcoming. Also, there’s a pastry shop inside that makes croissants as good as they are in France. Seriously, the next time you’re even 100 miles away from Atlanta let’s make a date and I will totally drive up.

  3. So I have a banana clip story… For 23 years of my life I was a dancer and used to actually perform and stuff. One year I was the Arabian Princess in The Nutcracker. I had chin length hair and apparently I needed to have a flowing ponytail so I had to wear a stupid banana clip with a long ponytail attached. I guess I didn’t totally click it shut one night and as soon as I got onstage I felt it click open a bit. So I spent the whole dance trying not to move my head too much and envisioning it falling off and having to dance around my hair looking like a dead animal on stage. Luckily it stayed on but it would have been quite the sight!

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