Well, it finally happened. Lisa made good on her threat to leave me and took her whole family to Idaho on Wednesday.

FOREVER.

UGH!!

She had a going away thing on Saturday at Rock Bottom. The whole time I was like DONT CRY. DONT YOU DARE CRY, ERIN. But then she hugged me as Henry and I were on our way out and my eyes started sweating, probably an allergic reaction to the strange beer concoction I let the bartender sell me, and not at all because EVERYONE LEAAAAAAVEEEESSSSS MEEEEEE.

I think the last thing I said to her was “I hate you.”

</3

So I decided that instead of dwelling on the Great Betrayal, I would make this a happy hop down memory lane, or whatever.

Lisa and I have technically known each other since 6th grade (199-You shut your damn mouth) but only had one middle school interaction (during the 8th grade Halloween dance when she threatened to kick my ass after I had a fight with my ex-bff who she also happened to be friends with) before becoming legit besties in high school.

She’s also the only person who has been able to break through my anti-hug barrier, as seen in the picture above. It took a lot of violence to get to where we are now, hugging freely and without force.

I just had a random memory of the time I had a Pampered Chef party (HENRY MADE ME DO IT) and when the Pampered Chef lady asked everyone how they knew me, Lisa said we met when we were working the same corner.  I think she and I were the only people who laughed at that.

Anyway, the above picture is from the first night in my first apartment in 1998 when we were all 18-year-old babies! AKA THE GOOD OL’ TIMES.

Lisa and I have a very strange love for the classic rock band .38 Special. Don’t ask. (No seriously, please ask me so that I can direct you to this wonderful essay of Lisa and my strange love for the classic rock band .38 Special!)

The above photo is from the one time we went to see them in 1997 at the Rostraver Ice Garden. I look like I have no hair, but I had recently undergone a very terrible hair shearing at the hands of some Borics follicle assassin. (I had a stylist at a real salon, but Lisa and I were at Borics with her friend Kim who was just getting a trim so wasn’t worried of the outcome, and I was strong-armed into getting my hair cut too but BORICS CAN’T DO LAYERS, YALL. So I wore a silk scarf* around my head for the first two weeks and then spent an additional month pulling what remained of my hair back in a crappy ponytail.)

*(Not to be confused with the time I got braces in fifth grade and wrapped a silk scarf around my face like the Invisible Man for a whole week.

Back then, Lisa was my ultimate haunted house partner. Sometimes we would hit up 3 different ones in a night! This is us at Castle Blood, and note that my hair still had not grown back.

We hung out at Denny’s so much that our favorite waitress Maryanne carried our senior pictures in her wallet. She was the best. (The Denny’s in the valley was always preferred over the one on the hill.) Anyway, this was taken the night of Evan’s art show at CMU, which was one of the best nights I had that year, but don’t let Lisa’s bored face tell you otherwise.

I think this was from 1996. The same year our crew tricked Lisa into going to see ICP and she slipped on the Faygo-coated steps of Club Laga. OH MEM’RIES!

Lisa moved to Colorado for a while after undergrad, but we always hung out when she was home for a visit. Here we are one summer in 2007 when I still had most of my pregnancy weight a full year later, go me!

Lisa with a teething, slobbery Chooch.

And then I was tired of looking through old photos because I have no attention span and nostalgia makes me sad AF.

Anyway, all sadness and self-pity aside, I’m excited for Lisa and her family and hope that their new adventure is everything they want it to be, even though it means that Pittsburgh loses. WOE IS ME!

****

Full disclosure: I didn’t know where Idaho was until Thursday night. I was texting with Lisa and asked her how far they made it so far on the drive to their new home. She said Minnesota and I thought, “Wtf—why did they drive past Idaho?”

So I felt inspired to look at a map, a good old-fashioned (Google) map. WOW, I had no idea Idaho was all the way over there! I thought it was in the middle.

Well, at least now Henry has a reason to take me on that cross-country roadtrip I’ve been dying to do thanks to my handy Roadside America app!

When I went to bed last night, there was a little over 5 hours left before G-Dragon’s comeback. I’m on late shift today and usually try to sleep in a bit, but my internal fan girl alarm woke me up a few minutes ago and the first thing I did was go to YouTube to see if the new MV was out and it is and it is beautiful and now I’m over here crying. My love for G-Dragon is reaching critical Robert Smith levels. 

His album is being released on a USB drive, why is he so cool omg. 

“Bullshit” was supposed to be his first single, but I guess in light of recent events with TOP, he decided to go with this softer track and I’m glad. I can’t imagine how stressful this is for him to have to go through a record release and a world tour thy starts in two days while TOP is in the hospital from a drug overdose, which is all I have been able to focus on this week, constantly refreshing for updates and praying that the guy doesn’t die!

When the news first broke early Tuesday morning, I went to work all shook over it and Glenn of course was no help, mocking the situation every which way, until I finally marched over to Amber’s desk and cried, “I think Glenn and I need to be separated today!” Ugh!

“If this happened to someone you like, I wouldn’t make fun of them!” I yelled at him. “Like, what if this was happening to, I don’t know, Jethro Tull?!”

“I wouldn’t care because I don’t know him personally!” Glenn laughed. 

OMG sociopath! 

I had so many emotions going through me that I probably would have flipped a table if I wasn’t at work. I mean, I’m fine. Nothing to see here. 

But in related news, Amber awarded me with the Golden Thumb* for the week due to my emotional trauma. I chose BBQ Pringles as my prize.

*(This is what my group passes around to whoever did a great job which is obviously always me but apparently we have to let other people get it sometimes too. 🙄)

Anyway, the whole TOP sitch is so messed up (last I heard this morning, he had finally opened his eyes) and it makes me sad that the pressure from Korean society basically did this to him. Being a Kpop idol is no joke, guys. And it makes me worry about G-Dragon too. I just want to hug all of them and I hate hugging people. 

#StayStrongTOP 

Maybe GD’s album will wake him up??

“I can’t believe how good this oatmeal tastes,” I said enthusiastically yesterday at work. 

“Ooh, what did you put in it?” Lauren asked. 

“Nothing,” I shrugged. “I just followed the directions on the box for the first time.”

****

OK, let’s back up.

Typically I eat cream of wheat or oatmeal everyday for lunch at work because it’s instant gratification and I can barely handle much else, other than slopping some fruit salad (pre-made by Henry) into a tupperware thing and praying that it doesn’t leak in my bag on the way to work.

If I’m feeling particularly whimsical, I will add some sprinkles to it. If Gayle has honey at work, I might add that too. Usually I have a bruised banana that will find its way into the hot slop, too.

I always tell Henry when it’s time to buy me more instant cereal for work, but sometimes — this is going to be hard to fathom for some so make sure you swallow first if you’re eating or drinking — I will go to CVS during my lunch break and buy it myself.

I KNOW.

ME!

I CAN DO THAT!

Recently, something crazy was going on with me and I tagged along with Henry to the boring grocery store (as opposed to the magical Asian markets, which I happily visit every weekend). I knew that I needed to restock on my work lunch stash, so I bought kids oatmeal (complete with dinosaur eggs, thank you) and some healthy oatmeal thing that had flax seed and whatever in it.

Turns out, that healthy oatmeal is a kind that I’ve bought before and I HATE IT! It turns out so watery, basically just warm cloudy water with grain things floating in it. Disgusting! Two days in a row I suffered through this sad-sack lunch, complaining about it at length to Glenn who had the Don’t Care glaze over his eyes, until something occurred to me yesterday.

“Maybe I should try to make it the way the box says to make it,” I said mostly to myself, reading the directions at my desk.

“Well, how have you been making it?” Glenn asked hesitantly, probably wishing he could recall his question.

NO TAKE-BACKS.

“Well, I dump it into my mug and then fill it up with the hot water from the spout on the coffee maker,” I said. “But then it just stays watery! Nothing happens!”

“Oh my god,” Glenn mumbled, and I couldn’t tell if that meant he was shocked my method didn’t work, or if he had just looked at a really great picture of G-Dragon.

So in the kitchen, I followed directions. I dumped the oatmeal into my cup. I filled the now-empty paper oatmeal pouch up to the line with water (not from the hot water thingie though – I’m not that dumb, you guys! Plus there is a warning sticker on it). Then I poured it over top the oatmeal and baked it in the microwave for two minutes.

And it exploded like a fucking 5th grader’s volcano science project. I had to take the glass thingie out of the microwave and clean it, ugh! Aaron walked by when this was happening and I sheepishly said, “I made a mess…”

“Is that your banana tea?” he asked, because one time he saw me cutting up a banana in the kitchen (with a plastic knife, don’t worry) and putting it in my coffee cup (of oatmeal!!) and then for the next year, he secretly thought I was literally adding bananas to my tea and expressed his concern (and disgust, probably) to Jeannie, who later told me about it and we had a great laugh.

Ugh, yes it’s my banana tea.

After I cleaned up the mess (burning my hand in the process), I took the remnants back to my desk and was amazed at how wonderful it tasted!

Glenn said I should have taken it out of the microwave every 30 seconds to stir it.

“Well, how would I know to do that if it doesn’t say on the box?” I cried, and he went back to trolling comment sections on fake news sites.

Later, I struggled to get the burnt oatmeal off my Goonies mug and considered just throwing it out and getting a new one, but then Gayle was like, “Just soak it….?” and hello, I know about that dish-washing secret, but the oatmeal was caked to the OUTSIDE of the cup too. I ended up just scrubbing it really hard and now my wrist hurts and I need to blame someone for this but I haven’t decided who yet. Probably Henry for not training me to be a grown-up, which by the way, he threatened to do over the weekend “in case something happens.” Something happens? Like he grows a pair and leaves?! Monica said she always just assumed Chooch and I would just move into Chez Chronica if that happens, kind of like she and Chris are our godparents.

I still should just get a new mug though. A G-Dragon one!

****

Today, I remembered Glenn’s sage cooking advice and stalked the microwave, stopping it every thirty seconds and giving the oatmeal a good stir.

With 45 seconds to go, I had a bad feeling. I could sense something wasn’t right, so I stopped it before the timer got to 30 and IT HAD OVERFLOWN AGAIN!!!!

Another day of cleaning the microwave! UGH. Where is Barb when I need her?!

Still though, it’s amazing how wonderful food tastes when you follow directions.

“Did the instructions give you options based on the microwave wattage?” Henry asked me on the way home from work, as we sat in traffic for an hour and he tried to resign from being my chauffeur.

“Huh?” I asked, scrolling through my Spotify kpop playlist.

“Never mind,” Henry sighed.  But then he had the audacity to ask me if I was trying to microwave the oatmeal IN THE POUCH, like I’m so dumb that I didn’t know to dump everything into a cup or bowl first, I AM SO INSULTED.

“It was so weird, it looked like it expanded somehow!” I gushed, as though I was telling the Story of Oatmeal for the very first time, to a bunch of pioneer people sitting on logs around a cauldron.

“That’s because it literally did expand. It absorbed the water, you idiot,” Henry sighed.

WOW. No need for name-calling!

“Anyway, who knew oatmeal needed to be baked. I guess I’m a baker now.”

“You’re not a baker. You cooked it in a microwave.”

I’m going to try and bake other things in the microwave this weekend. Baked beans, probably.

Today is dear Henry’s birthday. My oppa, my bae, my ride or die, my Papa H, my All Of the Things He Hates Being Called. I am going to try and be extra nice to him all day (which is easy since most of that day we’ll both be at work) and not boss him around (as much — I’m still going to want him to feed me tonight).

I think everyone knows how great Henry is, whether you know him IRL or just from watching me drag his name through mud on here over the years. But it’s still worth the reminder and really, who doesn’t deserve a nice shout-out on their birthday? (OK, there are definitely people who don’t, so no need to answer that. I THINK WE CAN ALL AGREE ON ONE PERSON WHO MATCHES THE HUE OF THE PHILADELPHIA FLYERS.)

(That’s ORANGE if you are colorblind.)

Let us pay tribute to the big guy by remembering some of the best frowns from the past year.

The “You Have Your Own Ice Cream, Step Away From Mine” frown.

The “Oh Boy, Riot Fest Again (but secretly loving it)” frown.

The “Resting Frown Face” frown.

The “Posing For a Picture Outside of Another Haunted House I Didn’t Go In” frown.

The “All We Do Is Eat Ice Cream” frown.

The “Nothing Impresses You Once You’ve Been in THE SERVICE” frown.

The ubiquitous “What Are You Up To” father of all frowns.

****

And here are some of Henry’s best moments over the years!

• the Big Angry Blow Me
• Revisiting His Glory Days in Bunker Hill
• An Interview with Henry About the County Fair
• When Henry Called the Police
• 50 Things Chooch & I Like About Henry

OK, that’s enough.

Henry, thank you for keeping Chooch and me safe and alive, and most importantly – spoiled rotten. I can’t imagine any one of my past boyfriends tolerating my obsessions and eye-roll inducing phases and my heart-wrenching imprinting on the entire country of South Korea. But you deal with it with panache and an absurd amount of patience. HOW.

Come on, guys — give it up for Papa H!

Hello. Good morning. 안녕하세요.

I decided that I would liveblog my workday because I haven’t done that in a while and quite honestly, I have nothing else to write about because everything in the world sucks, you know?

And this morning sucks because it’s raining REALLY hard and I had to walk to the trolley thing and now I look like a drowned rat and my umbrella blew back and slammed me in the forehead and it HURTS and I made the mistake of telling Glenn.

“Oh wow, Glenn has a smile on his face so early in the morning!” Catherine said when she walked back to her office with her coffee.

“Yeah, because I injured myself!” I spat, and everyone laughed but NOT ME, I DIDN’T LAUGH.

And then Todd said I should blog about the NBA finals because that would take my blog to the next level. NO.

So, here’s my liveblog prologue. We’ll see how the day goes. Check back or don’t, I don’t care! Ugh!

9:14am: Lauren just got here and I let her talk a whole lot before I told her that I’m liveblogging today and now she’s mad that I didn’t give her a disclaimer before she started talking. EVERYONE BETTER WATCH WHAT THEY SAY TODAY. Just kidding. I don’t want to get fired.

9:36am: I can’t get an email to send and Todd just asked me if I pressed “send” and now I’m ready to flip a table!

10:32am: Just had an argument with Lou (typical) and then we got an email about something to discuss at this afternoon’s meeting which I guess we’re still having because “But it’s raining” isn’t a good enough reason to not have one or something which seems dumb.

Current candy situation ^^^ 

Everyone seems on board with the current stash of candy I’ve provided, although there has been some heavy discussion on the Pollito Alvbros (???) which some people claim has a slight chicken taste to it.

What nationality’s candy should we try next?! Glenn said we should do what Conflict Kitchen does and provide candy from the places that the US has conflict with, but given the temperament and idiocy of our current “leader,” that could pretty much be anywhere soon.

11:50am: I just briefed Todd on the latest in the T.O.P. marijuana scandal (Glenn has his earphones in, acting like he doesn’t care), and Todd said, “Thank god it isn’t G-Dragon though. I don’t know what I would do with myself” and I said, “I KNOW RIGHT” before realizing he was being sarcastic, ugh.

12:10pm: I’m currently eating one of these milk candies. They’re my favorites out of this recent candy batch because they’re Korean and I can read the package because my name is Erin and I’m amazing:

12:31pm: Remember when I said I was amazing? I was just in the kitchen and I couldn’t open my packet of oatmeal and one of my co-workers had to help me and it was mildly embarrassing because I was really trying to handle that shit on my own. I think my grunts and whines of, “Ugh, I can’t do this!” gave me away. It’s not even good oatmeal that’s worth the struggle either. (That would be the dinosaur egg oatmeal that I left at home.) UGH RAINY MONDAY.

Also, Lou has spoken to me 4 times without permission today.

1:48pm: Just came back in from my lunchtime walk and guess what — it’s not raining anymore! Today still sucks though. Some homeless guy snagged me (they always do because I have that deer-in-headlights naivete about my dumb turtle face, I guess) and when I said I didn’t have any change, he decided he wanted to talk about the good ol’ days, so I felt compelled to be his audience as he wove yarns about being a carefree kid and how then you grow up and they only things you think about are life and death, and then he had a massive coughing fit, and now I’m fucking depressed, man.

Also, I finally saw the Umbrella Sky Project at the Arts Festival that everyone has been posting about on Instagram and SORRY PITTSBURGH but my boo Seoul has one that’s much more fabulous, because: Korea.

2:44pm: We just had our weekly meeting and talked extensively about patchouli. Now Glenn is leaving for the day after giving me zero fodder for this liveblog.

2:55pm: UGH I was just filling in Amber on the whole T.O.P. pot scandal (Chooch gleefully pointed out that TOP is pot backward) and Todd started laughing. I called him out on it and he said that in his head, he was thinking, “Run, Amber, run.” SO RUDE!

3:41pm: It’s raining again so this blog post title is still relevant. Also it started raining after Todd left for his lunch break so that’s what he gets for laughing at my somber Kpop talk.

4:44pm: I picked a dumb day to liveblog. There is nothing happening here! So here is a special peek into Glenn’s locker thing:

Amber1 and I put those dead flowers in there over a year ago I think inspite of Todd’s protests (I think he called us Mean Girls) and I’m not sure Glenn even knows it’s there.

Um, all the other stuff is his, though.

4:51pm: WENDY just came over to get candy from the magical candy pumpkin. “What are these?” she asked, holding up one of those aforementioned chicken lollipops so I got really mad and yelled, “IF YOU WOULD HAVE READ MY LIVEBLOG, YOU’D KNOW.” I mean, hello. Anyway, she is like totally grossed out because it’s the shape of a chicken on a spit, and Todd happily pointed out that I, the sanctimonious vegetarian, ate one of those. “There’s something you could liveblog about – your hypocrisy,” Todd suggested smugly and I was so mad. And then Lauren started cracking up because she was thinking of our conversation last week when I said the word “gleeking” and how we became concerned after the fact that it might not mean what I thought it meant. “My friend Chad Green taught me about it in fifth grade!” I cried defensively. “It’s when you spit from under your tongue, typically when eating something sour!” And then Lauren was all, “Oh great, I just trusted you based on something you learned from a fifth grade classmate!” I want to google it now but then it might take a turn like it did a few weeks ago when I was googling Iraqi candy shop.

5:39pm: Hey you guyyyyyys. I’m here in the car with King Uber, aka Henry. He was like “I HAD TO CALL PAYPAL. I GOT HACKED! FOR $2.99! IT WAS FRAUD!” And I was like “You mean this app that Chooch bought?” and showed him the email that I got on my phone. So now Henry is mad that he has a fraudulent son. 

Henry made me forward the email to him and he snapped, “WHY IS THERE HANGUL ON THIS?!” Because my email signature is in Korean? Le duh, oppa. 

Plus, proof that it was raining today. 

I just filled in Henry on my day. “I liveblogged today but it was boring. I think when people found out I was liveblogging, they quit talking to me.”

:(

6:06pm: Still in the car because traffic is terrible and now Henry is threatening to make me take the trolley HOME from work everyday now too as if one way isn’t terrible enough.  But anyway, I was just reminded of the best part of today, when I was in the elevator this morning and some broad said she liked my bag and in a cheerful voice that came from one of my happier personalities, I said, “Thanks it’s from the 80s!” And she was like “OK cool.”

6:59pm: Henry’s supposed to be making my dinner but then Chooch interrupted with some kind of fabricated bike crisis and I’m just sitting here getting high off the wonderful tteokbokki fumes, but whatever who cares that all I’ve eaten today was crappy oatmeal and Korean milk candy. 

7:29pm: my favorite part of the day! Dinner and Running Man!

8:23pm: “No.” – Henry’s response when I asked him if he wants to say something for my blog. Now we’re watching the hockey game and I feel sick. Remember when I loved James Neal and called him my Prom Date? Well that doucher can fuck right off now. He just looks like a soap opera villain to me, like he was shot and pushed off a cliff by the ISA but then came back to life as a Nashville Predator with an uglier face. 

8:41pm: A hearty head shake. That’s wat I got when I asked Chooch if he wanted to say a thing for my blog. STICK A FORK IN THIS THING, IT’S DONE. 

8:47pm: Here’s a song for the liveblog. This came on my playlist on the car on the way home from work, causing me to dance zealously with my fists (i.e. rhythmically punching), resulting in Henry roaring, “OK!!!!!”

Jeez. 

9:00pm: Nashville fans are trash. TRASHVILLE. Go choke on a catfish. I find it so hard to enjoy hockey anymore. 

9:53pm: Well, Henry ditched me about an hour ago for the sweet temptation of bed, leaving me alone with this dreadful hockey game and the ever-biased commentating of NBC. I painted my nails and have a headache but I think I will go and do some more kpopx while imagining that I’m stomping on the entire city of Nashville and their classless, twangy fans. I’M MAD. 

10:20pm: crying over hockey and T.O.P. all at once because I’m a gold medal sobber. Boo fucking hoo. No cheesy kimbap for me. 

https://instagram.com/p/BU-I1QCA_lQ/

I’d like to point out that I have been blogging since 2001 and this, my friends, this right here is the best I can do anymore. 

11:14pm: Penguins lost and I just stress-ate a buttered bun while watching Drew hang off the window screen like she’s auditioning for the cat circus. This is real life, NO GLAMOUR, people!

DREW JUST BROKE SOMETHING. Eh, Henry will clean it up in the morning. On his birthday. HAHA. 

In other “blogging just to blog” news, I bought a new phone case and it’s supposed to be delivered tomorrow so no more Unicorn Tears after that. Don’t worry – my new one is certainly not anymore mature. 

But it’s very accurate. 

11:41pm: OK WOW THX FOR YR PERMISSION??

11:55pm: Well on that note, it’s almost tomorrow so I guess that’s my cue to wrap this shit up. Hopefully tomorrow is sunnier and less boring. I mean, it is Henry’s birthday after all. 

Lol. Possibly in my Top 5 Worst Blog Titles Ever.

I recently had this urge to visit Laurel Caverns, especially after Chooch said he didn’t remember anything about his last two visits other than Henry wouldn’t let us play mini-golf while we were there. So I decided what better way to honor the war people than by skulking around inside a cave-thing.

This meant that for the second straight year, we were going to miss the lame Memorial Day parade that clunks and trips past our house every year. We were mildly sad about that because it’s entertaining for all the wrong reasons, but caverns trump* lame parades.

*(Gonna have to find a new word to use next time. Don’t want to dumb down this blog anymore than it already is.)

Somehow, we were all in a good mood even though we were leaving the house before 10AM which usually entails tons of whining and snapping at Henry.

But we managed to have a nice, leisurely drive to the Laurel Highlands (a little over an hour’s drive, I think). And when I say leisurely, I mean that Henry is now officially one of those old people who gets passed by every single car on the highway.

“I’M ALREADY GOING OVER THE SPEED LIMIT! WHAT DO THESE PEOPLE WANT FROM ME?!” he yelled when I pointed this out to him.

I was happy to see that the parking lot for the Caverns wasn’t too full, which lowered the odds of having douchebags in our group.

“Remember the last time we were here when I was making fun of those people—” I started to say as we walked to the main building.

“When don’t you make fun of people?” Chooch interrupted at the same time Henry said, “That could be anywhere.”

We paid for our admission and milled about the gift shop for just five minutes before the next tour was ready to embark. I was sad because the observatory deck was cordoned off! It’s ritual to go out there and take pictures but NOT ON THIS DAY, I guess.

As soon as our tour was called over the speaker, I got a surge of giddiness coursing through my veins. There is just something about being underground that makes me lose control of my behavior. Memories of acting like an asshole with my Girl Scout troop come flooding back; and the time we were there with the French exchange student who was living with us and my dad’s godson fell so my dad started calling him Bobo Bobolinksi (for whatever reason, this made tons of sense at the time); or the time Corey and I went there and photo-stalked some yuppie couple we hated.

Laurel Caverns is just the best! It’s the ultimate funnybone activator for me because I’m an asshole.

Almost immediately, I imprinted on our guide. He had the most adorably sardonic science-y sense of humor and I was ready to lead him down some dark, unexplored part of the cavern where we could start our own society IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

And if you don’t, I mean that I was prepared to have all of his babies.

BEING ON TOURS IGNITES MY IMAGINATION, OK.

We were in a group of maybe 15 people so it wasn’t too bad, and no one blatantly stood out and begged to be mocked, so that was good but also kind of boring because what am I supposed to do if I can’t be a lowkey dick?

OH THAT’S RIGHT, THINK ABOUT POPULATING THE CAVERN WITH MY TOUR GUIDE OFFSPRING.

Rocks.

More rocks.

Even more rocks still.

There’s a joke here somewhere about us being dumb as rocks.

Chooch spent most of the time walking ahead of us and trying to latch on to other families. That’s what he’s best at. Always looking for the better option.

The last several times we visited, we learned about the terrible bat crisis. Our guide (I can’t believe I don’t know his name, by the way) was telling us that in 2007 or something, they counted over 12,000  hibernating bats in the cave, and this past year it was down to 12.

No, I didn’t accidentally omit any zeros. That’s a 12. A 1-2. One and a two.

TWELVE.

Twelve bats! That’s it!

“Did they like, migrate?” some dumb broad asked.

“Oh no, they’re dead,” our guide said matter-of-factly, causing us to laugh, not because a dying breed is hilarious, but because his delivery was perfect.

This part of the tour kills me every time. I AM SO SAD FOR THE BATS!!

As everyone filed out of the cavern after the hour-long tour, I blurted out, “You’re the best guide I’ve ever had!” and then promptly ran away as he was stammering to thank me.

“I totally have a crush on him,” I squealed when he was out of earshot.

“Ugh, I knew it,” Chooch said with disgust and Henry just sighed, “Of course you do.”

I DON’T THINK HE WAS WEARING A WEDDING BAND AND GUESS WHAT NEITHER AM I.

Afterward, we played a round of mini-golf and I MURDERED the competition. It was almost sickening how good I was, and Chooch and Henry were so annoyed. Especially Henry, since he’s accustomed to being “the best” at mini-golf because he’s usually the only one who tries but I was succeeding purely off luck and shit-shots.

I love winning! I love being me!

There was some little bitch and her mom behind us (they weren’t on our tour) and she kept starting the hole while we were still on it and her mom was barely scolding her! And she kept calling her mom “Mother!” which was really grating my nerves. Stop encroaching on our game!

After Laurel Caverns, we drove home through Uniontown while blasting kpop and garnering confused looks from people at every red light we stopped at.

I’ve driven through Uniontown a million times in my lifetime, and even dated a guy from there for about 3 years, but I have never actually walked around it. The downtown area is so cute!

We ate at Randall’s on the way home. I had a grilled cheese and felt myself getting immediately fat like I do when I stray from my K-diet. Henry and I had coleslaw and it was too mayo-y.

Afterward, we went to Bill’s for ice cream. I was mad because I was forced to order abruptly without adequate menu-gazing time. I piggybacked off of Henry’s “small twist with crunchies” order BUT IT WASN’T WHAT I WANTED.

I was unsatisfied.

Then Henry went back inside to pee and in that short amount of time, Chooch got in a fight about something that I can’t even remember now and spent the whole car ride home not speaking.

THIS WAS RIGHT BEFORE THE FIGHT.

We’re OK now, don’t worry. I’m still a mom, I guess.

Well, now you know how we spent our Memorial Day. It was fine. The Penguins won the first game of the Stanley Cup finals later that night so that was a good ending!

As you were.

Well, another day with the covfefe king, another giant step backward for humanity. Every news alert has me stunned, just when I thought I couldn’t be any more stunned. So I’m just going to leave this super adorable video of Twice ordering ice cream on here because I’m mentally exhausted and extremely sad, and I think we could all use some ice cream and adorable Kpop idols in our lives right at this moment (i.e. Coping Mechanisms). 

I get to see them in three weeks!!

I. There was a water leak one day last week at work, nearly right above Gayle’s desk. It must have happened over night and by the time I got there in the morning, a yellow WET FLOOR sign was in place and there was this orange industrial fan thing that turned the corridor into a wind tunnel. It made me feel like I was walking through an 80s hair metal video, like I was Tawny Kitaen.  HAHA OK LET’S NOT GO THAT FAR. I accused Glenn of causing the leak, and cried sabotage. “Don’t you think it would have been over your desk, then?” he droned. Valid point, Work Enemy. 

That fan was on all day long and it was aimed directly at Lauren, who eventually succumbed and put on her jacket. None of us could hear each other talking either which was either a good thing or a bad thing depending on who you asked, I guess. 

II. We went to visit our pal Patty on Sunday at the nursing facility she currently resides. We stopped in the activity center briefly, where Patty encouraged Chooch to play the piano. At first he just pressed down on one key and I was like, “Ugh my kid is so rude, sorry he thinks he’s too cool to play the piano for you guys, kbye” but then he pulled out the bench, sat down, and played some jazzy tune his teacher Lavendar taught him and I was like “DID I KNOW YOU COULD DO THAT?!” All the ladies and one of the nurses loved it and he got a hearty round of applause AND a popsicle for his efforts. He was satisfied. 

The best part was that midway through the song, Henry was walking down the hall toward us and could hear the piano and thought there was some entertainment going on in there – little did he know our son was the entertainment. 

He barely practices but somehow manages to wing. SO JEALOUS. I have zero musical talent. I was decent at clarinet but I had to work hard at thy shit. This kid can hear a song and figure out how to play it.  What a jerk. 

Lavender is also teaching Chooch how to play the drums now too so PLEASE GOD, LET HIM HAVE A FUTURE IN MUSIC. 

III. I went nuts of nowhere the other day and screamed, “Every time I think about the G-Dragon concert, I feel like I’m going numb!”

Henry said sadly, “Yeah. Me too.”

I honestly haven’t been this excited for a concert since the first time I saw the Cure!

HIS COMEBACK ALBUM COMES OUT ON JUNE 8th! I might have to take the day off work. 

IV.  Chooch plucked this plant-thing out of the ground two years ago when we were visiting Octavia in Savannah because I thought it was a rogue succulent in the wild. It was only about three inches tall then and now look at it! Henry said that’s because it’s a weed. No, YOU’RE a weed, Henry!!

(Actually, I’m pretty scared of it. It has a reptilian quality about it and sometimes I half expect it to start hissing at me. :/)

V. Lastly, here is my current favorite song that I put on everyday as soon as I get in the car after work:

The first game of the Stanley Cup finals is on right now and I’m trying to keep from ripping out my hair by editing photos.

So here are some photos of Chooch being mad that he’s a part of my therapy.

Taking these pictures took all of five minutes but he was SO PUT UPON because his dumb neighbor friends were waiting for him to start some lame Roblox game for them to join, whatever that means.

The end.

Friday was one of those days where you hate to complain because when the words come out of your mouth, all you can think is “WOW THIS IS PETTY.” But I was stuck in that “wrong side of the bed” mindset and every little thing was under my skin. 

It was raining. I had to walk to the trolley in the rain. Some asshole car splashed me in the face. I was sitting on some yellow stain of ill repute. I got talked over a million times at work until I eventually just went silent for awhile. Everything was annoying. I had a headache that wouldn’t go away even after visiting Gayle’s Pharmacy. My umbrella blew inside out as soon as I went outside for a walk. I was so vicious to Henry on the phone but he took it like a champ because this is his norm. 

Stupid stuff, but sometimes that shit builds up and I can’t just brush it off everyday. Some days I just lack the resolve and gotta let the hate flow. This was that day. 

After work, Henry and I were supposed to meet our friend Jason and his girlfriend at the 68 show at Smiling Moose. They ended up having to cancel earlier in the day, but we still had tickets and a babysitter, so our plans were the same. 

Except that by the end of the work day, I was DONE. My headache was still there. I was hungry. My hair was frizzy from the rain. I forgot to bring a shirt and shoes to change into and I just felt UMCOMFORTABLE. I had no joy left in the tank.

From the moment I got in the car, I started bitching. Henry was calm as ever because he knew the nucleus of this bitchfest was hunger. Feed the girl, save the world. 

Originally, we were going to eat at the Moose before the show, but I knew all day that this wasn’t happening because I forgot to ask earlier in the week if I could leave work early and I knew by the time we got there it would already be packed since it was Friday. 

And I was right. 

FUCK EVERYTHING! LIFE SUCKS!

I mean….now, now Erin. Let’s not be petty. 

So we canvassed Carson St and I haughtily shot down every one of Henry’s suggestions with a flaming arrow of estrogen and hanger – that mix you fuck with only if you want to die. 

Henry kept trying to make me laugh and I was like YOUR JOKES ARE NOT SUPPRESSING MY HUNGER. Maybe put a fucking punchline inside a bowl of bibimbap, dumbass! UGH!!

Ultimately, I decided that I wanted to blow off the show even though at one point I had been genuinely looking forward to it, because I wasn’t sure if a crowd was going to exacerbate my total bitchfaced attitude or what. 

“Let’s just go home!” I yelled and Henry calmly said, “Ok. Whatever you want. I’m just glad to be spending time with you” and then I had to pause to puke in a discarded pizza box because bitch, please. 

Driving out of Southside, Henry suggested we try Onion Maiden, a metal-themed vegan restaurant we had been wanting to try since it opened but then forget about it every time we’re looking for a place to eat. 

You know how it is. 

So we rolled up to Onion Maiden and the dinner rush hadn’t yet hit so at least I didn’t have to be overwhelmed by a crowded restaurant on top of everything else. 

It wasn’t the Korean food that I was craving, but they at least had some Korean-inspired menu items. 

We started with a plate of cashew cheese, chutney, mini baguette, apple slices, and “Killing Yoke” deviled (faux) eggs. That’s what’s up.

Henry shared his order of Graves at Sea with me, and also ordered Coffins (I had a bite and immediately had ordering remorse). I got the Kimmy Gimmler of course because: kimchi. 

It was great but definitely wouldn’t have held up as a dinner entree on its own. Luckily, we had that cheese plate and tots too or I would have been ready to eat my arm an hour later. 

Henry got some vegan donut for dessert and I had the cheesecake special: The New Rose, which had like, rose, beets and hibiscus or something. 

It was good BUT—not as good as the raw cheesecake I had at this one vegan restaurant in Cleveland. I can’t remember the name of it now. Earth Something, probably. 

Props to the punny menu. It lifted my spirits and smothered the fury rising up from my belly. I was in a much better mood after that!

(Zenith is still bae, though.)

I’ve had a mild headache for almost a day now at this point and I can’t get it to go away, and also I have been having twitching/spasming under my left eye sporadically for the last week, so I googled and now I’m certain I’m having hemifacial spasms caused by nerve damage at the base of brain, so instead of going to a doctor, I’m just going to sit here and dump out a bunch of pictures I have been collecting on my phone.

Because that’s The Erin Way.

(I also thought I had botulism for a minute after reading about the gas station nacho cheese incident, even though I haven’t eaten gas station nacho cheese since, well, maybe ever.)

1. Pictures of Town

First, here are some recent photos I’ve taken of Pittsburgh on my lunch breaks. SHOULD I START MY FAKE TOURISM SERIES AGAIN? And by series, I mean the two “walking tour” posts I did in 2015.

(Here and here if you care! It’s like taking a virtual walk with me on my lunch break and like, who wouldn’t want that? As everyone in my department raises their hands.

)

I took these pictures after I accidentally walked too far into the north side and almost didn’t make it back to work.

An alley. I walk through lots of them because I prefer the GRITTY SIDE OF LIFE, OK.

I mean, how tantalizing is this, right? Put me on the Pittsburgh Tourism Board already. (CHRIS, YOU CAN BE MY TOUR DIRECTOR!!)

2. #HenryHatesHipsters

Henry finally bought a water filter for the house. For a myriad of reasons, we needed one. So he was all proud of himself for bringing home a PUR filter all on his own because he knows if he leaves it up to me, he’ll come home one day to a strapping Amish hunk manning a freshly dug well in the backyard.

YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU CAN FIND ON CRAIGSLIST.

Anyway, so he installs this water filter and is all smug and feeling like an exemplary provider, man about the house. But then later that night, one of my Facebook friends was all, “Hey guys, what is the best water filter out there?” and literally, no lie, every comment was “Berkey, Berkey, Berkey!” like it was the legit Marsha Brady of filtering systems.

I like to make Henry feel like shit as often as possible, so I went upstairs and woke him up SPECIFICALLY to tell him that “everyone” (like 15 people) said he bought the wrong filter.

Then I went back downstairs. Immediately, Henry started blowing up my phone:

I have so many questions.

• How did he know the comments I read were from hipsters?
• Why does he care so much?
• When will he learn the difference between there/their?

Anyway, I sent this to Chris who confirmed that she and Monica also have a PUR, so I told him and he was like, “I DON’T CARE I’M NOT MAD” as the steam from his nose drove me out of the bedroom.

WOW. Take a pill, Hank.

3. Great Parenting

I was one of those people who bitched and moaned when Instagram was usurped by Facebook and riddled with sponsored ads. But, ever the hypocrite, I have bought so much shit from those sponsored ads, ugh I hate myself.

One of those things is this shirt from Wicked Clothes, bought in a size for Chooch and me to share because he LOVES SHARING CLOTHES WITH HIS MOMMY.

Hey remember when someone called child services on me for “being a goth” and taking pictures of Chooch in a cemetery with a creepy baby doll?

I don’t know why people call me an instigator.

4. Great Parenting, Part 2

My friend Jason is an editor at Alternative Press and when he saw the video of Chooch crowd-surfing at the Emarosa show, he emailed me to see if I’d be OK with AltPress doing a little feature of it for their website. We both agreed that it would be nice to read a heart-warming, fun piece in light of the Manchester tragedy, and that maybe it could serve as a reminder that life is still good, and fun.  Chooch said he didn’t care (“As long as they don’t call me Chooch!” he stressed, lol OK wait till you read the first line, sonny boy) and I was excited because if you know me, you know I’m always on a mission to give the bands I love attention. I thought maybe it could be good exposure for Emarosa.

So the next day, it was up on their site. They asked for a brief history of how Chooch and Bradley first met, so I also provided a picture of that, from the 2015 Warped Tour (which was already Chooch’s third Warped Tour! Homeboy gets around). It was pretty cool for me to see Chooch’s face on the website of a magazine I’ve been reading since the 90s, so I shared the link on Facebook and my friends were so supportive and excited, and some of them shared it too!

What I didn’t expect was the next day, when AltPress posted the link on their Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. It was liked and shared and Retweeted by Emarosa, Bradley, other bands, other magazines…which means, of course, comments. The ones I briefly glanced at on FB were all positive, although there was someone who criticized us for not putting sunscreen on Chooch two years ago, and I didn’t reply because who cares, but in our defense, he DID have sunscreen on that day, that’s his tanline, and we had just bought that tank top and put it on him halfway through Warped Tour because his other shirt was wet….BUT I’M NOT DEFENSIVE YOU’RE DEFENSIVE.

So you know, don’t read the comment sections because that’s where you encounter the GLENNS of the world.

But the majority of the comments I did see before I had to force myself to stop looking were all so wonderful toward Emarosa, how they’re good dudes doing good things, and that was my only hope — get people talking about Emarosa.

And then my friend Bridget said it inspired her to look them up, and that made me super happy!

It was pretty surreal though, because people I only know on Instagram were tagging me on AltPress’s IG post and sending me DMs like, “This came up on my feed and I was like, ‘That looks like Chooch—wait that IS Chooch!'” So that was really fun!

Team Emarosa for life. I want them to have it all! Huge stages in huge venues! WORLD TAKEOVER! BRADLEY FOR PRESIDENT! PUT A FOX ON THE AMERICAN FLAG!

If you want to read the full article, go here!

(Perhaps “tossed” wasn’t the best word to use, but hey — journalism, amirite?)

(Also, Chooch is 11 not 10, but he had only been 11 for less than a month when this happened so I’ll let it slide. Mostly because I didn’t feel like emailing the web editor and telling her.

)

5. 고양이 Scarf!

That means CAT scarf, for all you dumb English-speakers. Cat is also one of the only Korean words I can remember how to spell in Hangul so I try to use it constantly. Good thing I’m a 고양이 lady.

That means CAT lady, you dum-dums.

(Sorry, learning Korean is hard and is making me mean on a daily basis now. Maybe that’s why I have hemi-facial twitching. LURNING IZ HAWRD.)

****

Should we end with a Kpop video? Fuck yeah, we should. Yesterday at work, Todd was all, “Who was that guy that G-Dragon was with sometimes?” and somehow I knew he meant Taeyang because this is my life now. So I sent him the video for Ringa Linga and that prompted a passionate discussion about how Kpop blends Korean and English lyrics together, so we were talking about that and what the reasons might be for it, which made me realize that I wouldn’t mind spending my days researching these things.

“I should be a Kpop historian!” I suddenly exclaimed, my life’s purpose finally realized.

“I mean, there probably aren’t many of those,” Todd said thoughtfully, and I took that as encouragement.

“….or any,” Glenn muttered bitterly, constantly being stuck in the crossfire of our daily Kpop discussion panel.

아싸! 좋다! (That basically means ‘oh yeah! it’s good!’ – G-DRAGON says that part in this song! I just taught you something from my limited bank of Korean vocabulary!)

https://instagram.com/p/BUgEgz5lzz1/

On my way to work today, one of the G-Dragon fan accounts I follow on Instagram (DON’T JUDGE) posted this snip of GD laughing from the last Run BIGBANG Scout episode (which was so adorable, btw, and I cried) and it just instantly cheered me up. HIS FACE!

Of course the first thing I did when I got to work was squeal, “DO YOU WANT TO SEE THE CUTEST THING EVER?!” to Glenn, who is the worst audience for these types of inquiries but I’ll never learn.

“Is it puppies or kittens?” he mumbled, not looking up from whatever riveting thing he had on his computer screen. PROBABLY SOME COMMENT SECTION SINCE HE’S A TROLL.

“NO EVEN BETTER IT’S G-DRAGON LAUGHING OMG,” I wheezed, shoving my phone at him.

He only glanced at it and then sighed, closing his eyes in defeat.

“LOOK AT HIM, GLENN!” I yelled.

“I did! I looked once. That’s enough,” he said, resuming his boring, American day.

**********

Later, I was talking to Lori about this and first, she asked me when I’m ever going to learn, but then she asked me when the G-Dragon concert is and I told her July 30.

“I can’t believe I’m going to see his face in real life,” I said all dreamily with googly eyes just like girls did in the 50s when they talked about cute soda jerks or whatever.

“We should make a countdown calendar,” Lori suggested. “I’m going to make one.”

This of course got me all wound up and I excitedly told Glenn and Amber. 

“Why do you encourage her?” Glenn asked Lori, while I was busy making Diabolical Finger Steeples at him.

I’m going to make a sparkly dragon to move along all the squares of the countdown calendar!

Sandy overheard this and called out from her office, “How long until the concert?”

“TWO MONTHS AND FIVE DAYS!” I shouted across the floor. 

I couldn’t see Sandy from my desk but I bet she was probably repeatedly slamming her hand in a desk drawer at the thought of two more months of G-Dragon anticipation. 

And then I told Amber about how Glenn didn’t have the appropriate response to the G-Dragon Laughing video. 

“Well she hyped it up as the cutest thing in the world,” Glenn defensively said to Amber. 

“Was it?” she asked. 

“No!” he said. 

Maybe if I post it in a comment section….

Me: Ugh why is Balance & Composure so fucking perfect?

Henry: I don’t know….?

Me: UGH WHY DO YOU HATE THEM?!

***********

Ok so maybe Henry doesn’t hate them per se, but he definitely isn’t a fan either and had zero guilt whatsoever about dropping me off in the Land of Post-Penguins Game Drunks on Sunday for their show at the Rex. It would be the third time seeing them in less than a year and you better believe I don’t take that shit for granted.

The height of my B&C obsession was last fall. We got SUPER hot&heavy, you guys, and I’m ok with sharing that because we’re all friends here. Their most recent album stayed on my record player for months and Henry and Chooch were all wide-eyed and tense. So while I might be all up on the Hallyu jock currently, I will always drop the Hangul long enough to let in some All American sad boy rock.

I arrived shortly after doors and had friendly banter with the bouncer, who asked if he could add to my collection of wristbands, or if I wanted to take my old one off (I usually keenmy wristbands on until they wear off on their own: my name is Erin and I’m disgusting). I shrugged and opted to take it off, so he rummaged in his pocket for what—A KNIFE? SCISSORS? A HACKSAW?—but I had already yanked the wristband off on my own. He acted like he was so impressed and made a “u so strong, girl” motion with his arms.

I love that guy.  Last time I was there, we struggled to work the ATM together. Not all bouncers are dicks, I guess!

Then I nearly got duped into changing electric companies (again!) by some girl who was standing at the door and I thought she wanted to take my ticket but NO she was just trying to start another fight between me and Henry. I literally just got persuaded by a cute college boy last fall to switch to some environmentally-sound clean energy thing and it sounded great but it was going to raise our bill by like three dollars and Henry had a fit because he googled the company and found review after review of horror stories from customers who got taken and everyday he was like DID YOU CALL AND CANCEL YET? YOU BETTER FUCKING CALL AND CANCEL.

God lay off, pops!

Anyway, when I tried to hand her my ticket, she was all, “Oh no, I don’t need that. But say, maybe you could help me? Do you like the environment?” And I said yes because sure. But as she said that, I noticed the paper she was holding said CLEAN ENERGY so when she asked if I oh the electric bill in my household, I said “No my dad does” BECAUSE IM ON TO YOU NOW, YOU LITTLE TREE HUGGER.

J/K I like trees.

“Oh! Well, when you get your own electric bill, look us up!” she said, and I was like, “Byeeeee suckaaaaa!”

(My tangents are the signs of someone desperate for compassionship. Henry doesn’t count. He’s exceptionally skilled at tuning me out. probably that’s how he cansleep  through concerts too.)

So now I was officially inside the Rex. It wasn’t very crowded yet so I slunk on over to the side of the stage because you know me, that good ol’ side bitch.

I mean…

Normally at shows, I can immediately spot the other loners in the crowd, but this show was populated by groups of friends and COUPLES WHO LIKE THE SAME MUSIC. Like, 75% of the crowd was on a date.

And then there’s me.

Leaning against a wall.

Next to a garbage can.

Le sigh!

Sometimes I feel like going to shows by myself is getting to be “not so bad” but this was not one of those nights. In fact, I was so self-conscious that I distracted myself by blogging about the last show I went to.  I literally blogged at a show about another show.

My life is so rich.

Thankfully, the first band—Queen of Jeans, from Philly— started right at 8 so I had something to do other than fidget with my phone, looking all loner-y and suspicious.

I had never heard of Queen of Jeans before and wasn’t expecting much. When I saw that three of them were girls, and two of them were dressed in various shades of 1970s afghan brown, I totally judged that book by its cover and wrote them off to be some riot grrl band. You know me! Picky with girl bands.

Anyway, you’ll be smug to know that I was wrong in my assumptions, and I ended up really, and I mean truly really very madly, loving them. Like a lot. The singer (Miriam – I’ve been reading some things, I do that sometimes, try to get some cold hard facts before I start laying down my super opinionated words) had the most unexpected voice, kind of reminiscent of Stacy King (Sucre, ex-Eisley), but with so much more power. I mean, this girl could BELT IT OUT. And the other two fucking slayed that stage right along with her, while the drummer, the lone dude, knew his place in the back. (J/K – he was incredible too.)

I can’t remember the last time I was at a show where the opening band was unknown to everyone there, yet still managed to get the whole crowd so hyped. We were LOVING it, totally eating out of their hands. They could have told us to scream, “FLYERS RULE” and….well, no, we probably wouldn’t have done it. THAT’S JUST GOING TOO FAR.

They ended with a cover.

“It’s 90s R&b,” Miriam gave us as a hint. “She’s dead.”

Right away, I was thinking Aaliyah because I’m old and used to be a yo-girl, that shit was my wheelhouse. But I didn’t want to yell it out loud by myself, so I said nothing.

AND GUESS WHAT I WAS RIGHT, UGH.

Here’s the tail end of it, where they were fucking shredding and we all lost our minds:

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And here’s a full one, please enjoy. Have a drink and relax:

The second band was From Indian Lakes. I have been wanting to see them again ever since the first Riot Fest I went to in 2014, when I was walking past the small stage they were playing on and did the whole HOLD UP WAIT A MINUTE stop-in-my-tracks-while-Henry-keeps-walking thing.

I think I was body-snatched during their set because I barely remember it aside from the initial text I sent Henry that said, “OMFG I forgot how good they are!” I absolutely cannot remember anything now. Should I be concerned?!

I do remember that they had a bright white neon marquee that said F I L and I had a fleeting thought of, “LOL, father in law” and then I was clearly hypnotized. It’s the only explanation.

Aside from aliens.

Anyway, the whole point of this post is that I went to see Balance & Composure and was caught up in the rapture just like Anita Baker and shooooooo lawd, if I could see these guys once a month maybe you could start calling me religious. As soon as Jon Simmons starts doing his dreamy Midnight Zone dance, I SUDDENLY FIND GOD.

I’m just over here fanning my face, please hold.

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They played all of my faves: Midnight Zone, Postcard, Tiny Raindrop, Quake, Reflection, Tore You Apart….OK every song they played is my favorite because there’s not a single song I dislike in their whole entire discography. They are perfect, in my opinion. And just what I needed to cap off an already wonderful weekend. Sometimes, the social anxiety is worth it when the reward is a night of beautiful music that sticks with you.

Be my prom date, B&C.

**********

It was after 11pm by the time I got home and Chooch kept asking me if I was hungry, which I thought was strange because since when does he care about how or what I’m feeling?

“No, it’s after 11 and I’m ready for bed, not food,” I said. But he just kept it up, until finally I was like, “OMG, if YOU’RE hungry, eat something then go to bed!”

“Are you sure you don’t want an ENGLISH MUFFIN?” he asked, not so subtly stressing the “english muffin” part. He did everything but the wink-wink, nudge-nudge.

Finally, I figured out that he was trying to lure me over to the toaster so that I could see they bought a new one while I was at the show. No more burnt bagels!

“We don’t even have English muffins, so it’s a good thing you didn’t say yes,” Henry mumbled.

“Do you want to listen to a RECORD?!” Chooch asked from the back porch, practically sprawled across the table the record player sits on. And I noticed there was a new speaker sitting there. Wow, what a huge night for Henry and Chooch. Send a postcard about it. Five lines.

Here are some pictures I took over the last several days, before some motherfucker piece of shit bombed an Ariana Grande concert. I seriously just can’t take it anymore – WHY CANT SUPERHEROES BE REAL?! WHEN WILL CHRIS PRATT SAVE THE WORLD?! Literally nowhere is safe. Nowhere. 

Don’t you sometimes wish you could be a cat, completely oblivious to the explosions and rapes and obstruction of justice going on in the world? Oh, to be Peen Lop, lounging on a devil rug with Pink Mousey, if only for a day. 

A great distraction of mine is to constantly watch South Korea tourism videos on YouTube. Above is what Chooch’s face looked like when I made him watch the fortieth vlog of Jeju Island. (They recently unveiled a forest named after G-Dragon! I AM GOING.)

Drew getting ready to take a bite out of Chooch’s delicious arm. 

My car thought I was listening to Winger and not the smooth Kpop boy group, Winner. 

After Chooch graciously posed for photos at Buttermilk Falls, Henry had to hurry and find somewhere to eat because he knew he was running out of time before the Hanger Eclipse occurred. Honestly, there is a small window of time when Chooch and I are in good spirits and if we’re late for a feeding by even fifteen minutes, get ready for heads to spin and pea soup to fly. Luckily, Henry found a place called Ree’s and he insists we’ve eaten there before but I DO NOT RECALL. We had great service though even though some other waitress came over and tricked me into doing her job for her by having me replace the sugar and sweeteners. 

Ugh, work. 

Anyway this place ruled because they had veggie wraps and one of my favorite kinds of French fries. Not the elusive Good Kinds (you wouldn’t understand) but the thin, greasy, golden ones that are just so wonderful that I cleaned the plate of them and then felt sick for the rest of the day because French fries are not a regular staple of my K-diet and my stomach was like ABORT ABORT WHERE IS THE KIMCHI. 

Afterward, we went to the Beaver Valley Mall because that’s where the closest Game Stop was located and if you must know, I had to bribe my child with a DS game in order for him to willingly pose for portraits. 

Ugh I hate this!

Anyway, they didn’t have what he wanted, but we sure enjoyed meandering about a mall that looked like it hasn’t been updated since the 70s but still somehow had patrons milling about it. 

On the way out, Henry found a tiny bottle of disappearing ink in the mulch outside the entrance, and Chooch forgot all about fidget spinners and Nintendo DS games for a few minutes while he squirted invisible ink all over Henry’s back. It was great. Team Chooch.

(Dont worry, he got his dumb game later one when he and I walked to the Exchange in Dormont and the sales guy and I awkwardly touched hands when I was paying for the game and Chooch thought it was the funniest thing ever while my soul was slowly crushing in a vice of human contact.)

The next day, we went to the Strip to hit up the Asian markets, which is the only time I will joyfully tag along with Henry because it’s where I get all my candy for the Pumpkin of Horrors (which hasn’t been too horrible lately, except that something in there apparently pulled out one of Sandy’s fillings, so we can’t drop the “Horrors” just yet). But we also usually get a package of Samanco, which is the ice cream version of carp bread, and filled with wonderful red bean. Chooch just recently decided he likes red bean so when we go to S. Korea, he’ll be living off of red bean ice cream, hotteok, and, I don’t know, candy probably. Maybe we’ll pack some astronaut food for him. 

Henry made me bibimbap for dinner Sunday night and then dropped me off at the Balance & Composure show with a full and happy belly. 

Waited so long for the Twin Peaks return to finally happen and then of course I wasn’t home to watch it live. Henry and I watched the first episode today after work. I need some time to process, but I’m definitely along for the ride. I’m hoping it will inspire me to finally finish the painting I started three years ago! (It just needs some detailing but I’m the laziest fake artist you’ll ever meet. Planets have to be properly aligned for me to feel inspired these days, I guess.)

And here’s a Sistar video for good measure. Sweet dreams. 

ETA: nooooooooooo

My decision to attend the recent A Lot Like Birds show at Smiling Moose was pretty last minute. Kurt Travis was the clean vocalist of this band, and half the reason why I loved them so much, but he was basically kicked out last year due to “creative differences.”

That’s always the reason!

I was so broken up over this! How could they go on without him?! No one could replace him! First Dance Gavin Dance, and now…et tu, ALLB?

Turns out, they didn’t totally replace him. Cory, the screamer, took over clean vocals, along with bassist Matt Coate. I only had the courage to listen to one song and I ended up really liking it a lot, inspite of its Kurt Travis-less vibes. :(

So I sucked it up and bought a ticket, and ended up having a fantastic time. 

I’ll try to make this short and sweet because oh god no, not another concert recap. 

So here are some things I want to remember:

• Atlas Decay was the local opener. This was my fifth or sixth time seeing them and they are fine. 
• No natter how “at home” I feel at Smiling Moose, the fact that the room is as narrow as a Trump-supporter’s mind and cluttered with the gear of EVERY BAND PLAYING will forever have me constantly being in everyone’s way no matter where I stand. Sigh. 
• I saw the local band photographer that I briefly met outside Diesel at last year’s Hotel Books show and we pretended like we didn’t know each other, just like the last three times we saw each other at shows. #mutualsocialawkwardness

• When the second band – OWEL- started setting up, I knew in my heart I would like them because they had a girl member and she HAD A VIOLIN. I later learned that she also plays the viola and keyboard and she sings as well. Once they started playing, the deal was sealed. I loved them. If you need me, I’ll just be following them around on tour. (I mean, vicariously on Instagram. Sigh.)

OWEL YOU HAVE MY HEART. 

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• Next up was Hearts Like Lions. I saw them last year, also at that same Hotel Books show with the awkward photographer, so I was geeked to see them again, except that they weren’t as good as I remembered. Not that they sucker! Maybe the sound was a bit off or something but I wasn’t as drawn in as I was the first time. 
• Their set ended around 8 so I went back to the bar to get a drink (a Hoegaarten, ugh) and decided to forego the fourth band and watch at least the first period of the Pens game since I never get to anymore because we’re a No Cable Household (which was coincidentally the name of of the band I was skipping – just Household, not No Cable Household, to be clear) – and I’m still mostly OK with this decision! But….hockey. Anyway, they were down 0-4 before the period was even over so I chugged my gross beer and peaced out. 
• Finding a sort-of decent spot out of the way of the bands in the middle of moving their gear around, I occupied myself by staring intently into my phone (much like I’m doing now at the Balance & Composure show, waiting alone for it start), when suddenly I head someone say, “Did you see Emarosa when they were here last week?” I looked up and a guy in a Dance Gavin Dance shirt was looking at my expectantly. OH NO A CONVERSATION. WHAT TO DO? HOW TO TALK? I said I had, and realized not only was I wearing an Emarosa shirt, but it was one that just had the face of a fox on it and nothing about Emarosa. So he was a true Emarosa fan then! Fuck I forget his name already. Ryan? Mike? I don’t know, but his wife’s name was Ashley and they were both just wonderful. We talked about all the best bands and I showed them the video of Chooch crowdsurfing and of course they were disappointed to learn he wasn’t there that night. EVERYBODY LOVES CHOOCH. (OH MY LORD the laugh on this bitch standing in the bar at this Balance & Composure show is manufactured straight from the flames of hell. PLEASE LET THE FIRST BAND START SOON.) Anyway, that was awesome. Once I start talking to a stranger about music, it’s like ok me again. 
• ALLB came on and played their new album Divisi in its entirety and you know what? They killed it. It was still ALLB, just without Kurt. I pretended that Kurt was taking a sick day. Yeah, that’s it. Cory did a bang-up job with those clean vocals, and Matt looked positively joyful singing along with him. And in between songs, when we were all clapping and showing our approval, Matt said thank you and just beamed as he looked out at all of our dumb faces. It was humbling. It’s easy to turn your back on a band when your favorite member is ousted, but these guys are just way too talented to give up on. Even though my heart turned into a pulpy, aortic mosaic when Matt sang the “you’re already undressed” line from Properties of Friction. OH KURT :(

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And that concludes my succinct summary of the A Lot Like Birds show at Smiling Moose. I’m glad I got to see them many times already with Kurt and I’m gonna stick with them on this new journey. 

This post is brought to you by the letters ㅈ, ㅎ, and me standing alone miserably in between bands at the Balance & Composure show.