Literally. So. Boring.

But, this was by my own design, I guess. I sacrificed going away and doing something fun for the long weekend in favor of choosing the previous weekend for Cedar Point. Not that that weekend ended up being any less crowded, I’m sure! Then, Chooch waited until 6PM on Friday to decide for sure that he was going to visit Julian (his roommate in Mexico!) in DC for the weekend. Julian was in town visiting his dad and asked Chooch WEEKS in advance if he wanted to come down but Chooch being Chooch kept hemming and hawing, I dunno what he was waiting for, so then we ended up having to pay over $200 at the last minute to get him a roundtrip Greyhound (which was delayed bigly there and back) and that pretty decided for us that we do nothing all weekend.

And you know how well I do with doing nothing.

NOT WELL.

Saturday afternoon, we drove out past Elizabeth, PA with the intent of buying flowers at some nursery that we like on 51, but first we went to a cemetery for a walk and I hated the cemetery – it was our first time there, it was small, and packed with Memorial Day revelers. I always forgot that it’s a big grave-visiting weekend.

I threw a body-image-related fit, cried about hating myself, took a picture of the river and some lame town over the edge of the cemetery, and then we left. Henry went the wrong way on 51 so I screamed I GUESS WE’RE NOT GETTING FLOWERS NOW and he was like YOU SAID YOU WANTED TO GO HOME BUT I WILL TURN AROUND and I was like HOW ABOUT I SHOVE A STICK IN YOUR ASS AND THEN YOU CAN TURN AROUND – I was just in A MOOD all fucking day.

Then I declared that I needed lunch and I couldn’t wait until we got home so I made Henry go to Sheetz to get me a veggie wrap and I stayed in the car because NO ONE WAS ALLOWED TO LOOK AT ME. There were three old men chilling at an outside table drinking beer and talking about sledgehammers which was considerably more interesting than my dumb Saturday.

I took this later that night to send to Chooch while he was out doing fun DC things. Not me writhing around, moaning in the key of boredom, with Tokyo Disney food review videos on in the background.

Sunday was a little better – well, to start. I decided to do a 14-day metabolism reset so Henry was like F M L because this means he has to help me since I don’t like cooking. He has been trying to prepare my lunches the night before (breakfasts aren’t too hard for me, if you can believe it) and he has been so stressed about it. Like bro, this is 14 days out of your life and you can still eat your Reeses and soft pretzels in the car like usual.

Side bar to say that it’s been a week and I have lost 4 pounds BUT what I care about the most is that I’m starting to look like my old self again, less bloated, and Henry said I look healthier in general. The stress of 2024 so far has definitely made its mark on me, lol.

Anyway, commercial break over.

I had a much more positive outlook on Sunday. We went to some trail that goes along the river between Butler and Freeport or something, I actually have no clue where we were, and it was a really nice walk. The weather was so good. The bikers were obnoxious as  usual. (I HATE WHEN BIKE AND WALKING TRAILS ARE SHARED.) I called Henry a cunt at least 87 times with so much love, and we had some good talks about Korea, Chooch going to college, Seventeen and Stray Kids alleged upcoming tours. Big talks, you guys. Big talks.

At the beginning of the trail, there was a bulletin board with an ad for a local coffee shop in Freeport and I was like PLEASE CAN WE GO I NEED COFFEE OR I’LL DIE and Henry was like oh no anything to keep you alive, sweetheart bubblebee angel snugs.

Originally, I was going to just wait in the car but then I thought, “Eh, let’s see what vibe this FREEPORT CAFE has.”

Boy-o, let me just say – glad I went in! First of all, I want to say that the baristas were very nice. I’m supposed to be cutting out sugar to the best of my ability (I HAD THREE BUTTERSCOTCH HARD CANDIES THIS WEEK OK? CALL THE FUCKING SUGAR POPO ON ME. CHRIST) so I just got an iced latte with almond milk and no syrups. It was delectable. If you can’t drink a cafe’s coffee/espresso without sugar, then that cafe sucks.

While Henry was waiting for his drink, he went to the bathroom which gave me some time to really absorb the quiet, country atmosphere of this space. And the blue walls! So when Henry came back the bathroom, I was already seated a table. “We’re staying,” I said, and he was like, “Thank god” because all he had on the horizon was yard work and cooking more meals for me. He was quite happy to postpone those festivities.

Ugh.

I’m glad I went in though because if I had asked Henry what it was like inside when he came back to the car, he’d have said something like, “I don’t know, it was like a cafe. It had some tables.”

Also though, they have really great seasonal drinks on rotating so I’m excited to go back next Sunday when my 14 days are up!

Then, later that night, perhaps around 8:30, THE ELECTRICITY WENT OUT. There was a thunderstorm and one of those things exploded or whatever. Henry saw it and hurried up and called his mom and then wrote it in his THINGS I HAVE SEEN log on a page opposite of the list of military planes he has identified in the air.

Anyway, you guys, I was DYING. Literally so BORED. Floundered on the couch like a fish being cooked in sizzling ennui. Inconsolable. Henry was like CALM DOWN and that was just  making it worse. Chooch was sending me updates from DC, eating dinner at Murphy’s Pub, surrounded by the illumination of electricity, watching a band play instruments powered by electricity, etc etc and so on and so forth while I was trying to make objects move with my mind I WAS THAT BORED.

Around 10:00, the electric company truck rolled slowly past our house and I SCREAMED IN JOY, and then my joy swiftly morphed into panic and desperation as I cried HELP US! out the window, causing Henry to beg me to stop/sit down/shut up/other commands commonly utilized by cis white males.

When the electricity didn’t IMMEDIATELY come back on, I started panicking again.

“They have to send the trucks out to find the problems first! Then they will report it and fix it! Calm down!” Henry said, because when you’re born a cis white male, you’re pre-installed with various utility knowledge too without ever having to work for any of those companies.

Finally, around 11:15, after Henry refused to walk down the street where the supposed INCIDENT occurred to see what was going, and after HOURS of obsessively checking the REPORT AN OUTAGE page for updates, I said that I was going to report it again (Henry: “Well, they already know…”) so that I could ADD A DESCRIPTION:

I smugly thrust my phone out to Henry who had been warning me to please not make threats or swear because this was connected to our account and WAS JUST ABOUT TO HIT NEXT when the lights sputtered on. And you’ve seen my house, so going from pitch black to NEON CENTRAL in 0 seconds flat is quite a spectacle. It was like the Las Vegas Strip rebooting.

So that was a fun night!

Memorial Day itself was lame. This was the first time in quite a few years that we stayed home, which meant we got to see that dumb parade. It was also Tamanna’s first time watching it and she was recording it in the beginning and then lost interest and went back inside lol.

The fact that there are two Finleys scares me.

I fucking hate it so much when these assholes fire their idiot manly man-man rifles. It should be banned! This is triggering to many people and also rude and insensitive to the area animals!!

“Complain about it,” Henry mumbled.

“You know what maybe I will!” I cried. “Now that I know Dormont has a mayor!”

Henry frowned. “You…didn’t know that?”

“No, not until that time he liked my tweet,” I said.

Henry, now looking worried, tentatively asked, “What…was the tweet?”

“‘wow apparently Dormont has a mayor’.”

Henry: “…..”

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Dude this religious prayer cohort is new-to-me. Totally unexpected! My work friend Maggie lives in a neighboring town that also gets visited by this dumb parade and she said one of those guys splashed her with holy water! “That’s assault, brother,” she said in her comment on my reel. Agreed! Some of us like having evil residing within our skinsacks.

Meanwhile, Chooch’s bus home was delayed by nearly three hours so he got to live his best life by renting a city bike and tooling around the empty city at 7am, sending me pictures of the Mr. Gray Guys (squirrels) that were frolicking around.

Yeah, I really don’t think I have anything else to add. It was….a weekend.

 

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