I ran out of people to send postcards of all of my fascinating lunch break observations, so I guess now everyone* will have to endure it on here.

*(See also: my five readers. I love you guys very very much.)

I can’t keep of track of days anymore, so we’ll pretend like this all happened in one, action-packed stroll through the ‘Burgh. Except the first bulletpoint actually just happened about 10 minutes ago. HOT OFF THE PRESS.

• Some broad next to me completely missed her step while we were crossing the street and tripped so hard on the curb that her shoe flung off and she fell flat down on her hands and knees. I was on the phone with Henry at the time, but felt like I had no choice but to slightly slow my roll and at least ask her if she was OK. I mean, I’m a card-carrying member of the ACLU now so I felt that it was the human thing to do. At first, she didn’t answer me and I was like, “Wow, what a bitch” followed quickly with, “Oh shit, is she unconscious?” Turns out she was none of those things, just a little embarrassed. Once she got back on her feet, she laughed it off and then thanked me for asking if she was OK. “Did you just ask someone if they were OK?” Henry asked in astonishment through the phone, so I told him what happened, and he said he was very impressed with me. For what it’s worth though, she also dropped a CVS bag which I could have picked up for her but instead just walked away after I tripped on it.
• There was a fire at the place where I buy my coffee! It didn’t burn down though, and was reopened by the next day.
• Speaking of coffee, I went to Crazy Mocha last week and felt compelled to get their seasonal leprechaun chai because sometimes you gotta change shit up a bit. The barista (not the punctuation-obsessed one — I actually haven’t seen her in awhile!) said, “You’ll have to let me know how this is; I haven’t tried it yet.” This was right as she started making it, so then I had a quiet panic attack, wondering if she meant, “Don’t leave this place until you drink some and let me know because I’m going to write your exact words on this chalkboard for all the customers to read” or was she telling me that she expected me to come back the next day with my review? WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO!? But then as she handed the cup to me, she told me to have an awesome day and  then turned her back on me so that was my cue to get the fuck out and never come back.
  • I went back today though but luckily some other girl was working and I had no outstanding demands to tell her what I thought of any of the drinks there, so that was a relief.
• Walked past some broad and if I were still my old, judgemental self (lol), I’d have probably written something like, “she looked like a washed-up stripper,” but I kind of gave up stereotyping people for Lent just to see what it’s like to give something up. Anyway, right as I passed her, she growled to her friend, “I had $13 hidden in my bra, but they didn’t find it.” She looked like someone who would hide $13 in her bra, too. Damn, did I just lose Lent? So many questions though, mainly, “WHO WAS SHE HIDING THE $13 FROM!?”
• Speaking of washed-up strippers, remember when I was obsessed with making a coffee table book full of pictures and essays of washed-up strippers, so I placed an ad on Craigslist and only one broad answered but then she said I couldn’t take any pictures, so I was like, “Well fuck you and your strippin’ history then.” I don’t know why more people didn’t respond. I clearly stated that I wasn’t a serial killer.
• OH SHIT I HAVEN’T TOLD YOU ABOUT THE PIGEON INCIDENT YET, BLOG. Well what happened, was….I was walking down the sidewalk and a man was walking toward me, but in the middle of us was a pigeon, and the pigeon was all, “Shit son, this man is walking toward me very quickly, I better turn around and flyYYYYYY—–OH SHIT ANOTHER PERSON IS BEHIND ME, WHICH WAY DO I GO” and then he (she? The voice I made for it that day in my head was a boy voice, so we’ll go with he) slammed right into my thigh, ricocheted to the left and flew into a woman who was walking past, at which point that lady started screaming before I had a chance to scream, and the pigeon was SO UPSET at this point and probably flew into a bus or something, but all the pedestrians on the block stopped what they were doing and started laughing at the lady who was so upset that a pigeon hit her and at first I was mad because hello, it hit me first, but then did I really want people laughing at me? No. That broad can have my thunder. Meanwhile, Amber* was outside around the same time as me and she got to see Olli Matta! (He’s a Penguin, no big deal.) Yeah well…I WAS TOUCHED BY A PIGEON!
  • *I’m going to call Amber “Amber-sunbae” from now on because she was promoted and is now my boss, and in a Korean work environment, that would make her my sunbaenim! See, you just learned a thing.
    • I have a feeling she is going to reject my title for her.
    • But I probably can’t ever call her Mean Amber again, haha!
• We have a cat cafe in Pittsburgh now! I walked over there on my lunch break, even though I knew that you have to make a reservation to get into the cat loft because they just opened and are in high demand because who doesn’t want to sit in a roomful of cat?!  Still, I wanted somewhere new to get an iced latte. It was pretty good but kind of overpriced; however, I like to believe that some of the money is going to the cats so I was alright with it. Plus, the people working there were super friendly; we had non-excruciating small talk and when I said, “Have a nice day, guys” I THINK I MEANT IT.

…and their weekend requires fewer words than mine, so rejoice!

Penelope perpetuated stereotypes.

And Drew got her Seuss on.

Ciao (and meow) for now.

Well guys it’s Friday, which means I’ll be harassing my fellow team here with the Kpop Video of the Week, and also I thought it would be fun to break up the monotony and make this a fluid post, Chick-fil-A (I keep trying to type CHOCKFUL on my phone and that won’t stop happening) of supposedly witty retorts from Glenn and a run-down of people who walk past my desk vs those who actually stop and take some of my gross-to-mediocre candy.

(One of those things is a petrified plum pebble surrounded by a delicious honey-like bubble of candy, but when your tongue hits the plum, it’s like OH WHY HELLO THERE, SALT LICK. Like a shock to the senses. Though, not exactly BAD, either. Todd and Glenn agree. No one else has been bold enough to try one though. I apparently don’t “sell” it well.)

Today will be kind of like hard-nosed, grassroots reporting, y’all. None of that fake news bullshit.

It reminds me of when I was in elementary school, 5th grade I think, and I kept this palm-sized forest green notebook in which I kept a running log of the comings and goings of Mrs. Madden’s classroom. Everyone knew about it so I would let people pass it around because news is meant to be shared, after all. One day, and this must have had a huge impact on my life because I feel like I reference it once a year and even wrote an entire blog post about it, we were at recess and Mike H. called Mrs. Glumac—the barbaric lunch lady straight out of Goosebumps—a bitch during kickball and then broke her glasses with the ball!!

And then when I wrote about it in my paper blog of 1988, everyone was giddy for the second time that day because first they heard someone say “bitch” at school, and now they were READING the word “bitch” at school!

It was pivotal, OK? Just take my word for it.

I just sent out the Friday video and Todd said, “I’m boycotting the Friday video.”

“Why?!” I cried.

“Because it’s Lent season,” he said matter-of-factly. Ugh.

Glenn just said he didn’t stick around long enough to see who was at the door at the end of the video so I said he’s banned from Friday video and now they’re calling me the Trump administration. Today is not going well!

Todd just said that now he’s watching “symbol symbol symbol Music Bank symbol symbol” and I tried to teach him that those symbols are called Hangul and he was like “Sure they are. You can tell me anything about Korea and I’ll believe it.”

Speaking of Hangul, I downloaded HelloTalk to use while I’m waiting for my Korean textbooks to arrive. It very clearly states that it’s a language learning app and is not meant to be used for dating, but still—within two minutes of communicating with this dude from Busan, I got the dreaded, “I’m looking for foreign gf” message. Then when I didn’t reply right away, he slammed with a series of “?????” because that really makes me want to answer. And then when I was like, “Look, I’m at work” he countered with “You like Korean guy??”

“Well, I have a Korean boyfriend now,” I told Glenn. “Got my foot in the door!” This made me think of the time I was using some messaging thing when I had a Blackberry years and years ago, and became friends with a trucker because I wanted to use him to learn trucker slang. (<–you should read this. It’s very POIGNANT and HONEST. LOL, j/k. It’s something alright.)

Glenn just went upstairs to get ice because the ice maker on our floor is broken. See? These are the details you miss out on when I don’t keep a running log.

We just talked about Jonny Craig having back surgery and Todd said, “That’s from all that Xstacy” and then I couldn’t stop laughing and Glenn said, “He actually only had a mole removed.”

Some time passed. Maybe like 22 minutes worth. We just had a riveting conversation about the freight elevator and how desperate I am to weasel my way in there. One time, I saw one of the maintenance guys pushing a cart through the doors and I cried, “DO YOU NEED HELP?!” He said no. :(

ICE UPDATE: We now have an ice bucket in the kitchen. I was really excited to report back to my office neighbors about this. Todd said, “Oh. I don’t even use ice” and then I told that I’ve been secretly live-blogging all day and that I couldn’t wait to update the ice-less drama.

“I just went upstairs when I needed ice,” he said.

“Yeah I know, I put that in my blog.”

MAJOR NEWS UPDATE: Dance Gavin Dance just released a new video! And it’s for my favorite song off their last album! I told Todd and he said he only listens to Billy Joel cover bands now.  And then Glenn sent me a list of YouTube links with the subject “this is music,” insinuating that I listen to garbage, but JOKE’S ON HIM because I also like some of the things he tried bragging about. One of the videos was for Bohemian Rhapsody and I was like, “Cool story but I like Radio Gaga better” and then Glenn admitted THAT HE DIDN’T KNOW THAT QUEEN SONG. Wow, I thought old people knew everything about classic rock.

But yeah – nice try!

CREAM OF WHEAT AND BANANAS TIME. I got so hungry after Wendy came over to talk about popping sebaceous cysts and pimples. (#fakenews)

I’m standing in line at the post office now. On my way here, some jackass Planned Parenthood protestor tried to hand me grossly misinformed literature so I barked NO but then another protestor said my coat is gorgeous and I squealed AW THANKS.

Ugh.

Mixed emotions.

HUGE NEWS- on my way back from the post office, Henry texted me this picture:

OH HENRY OPPA! So I called him andbut turned out he was still in there area so he came and picked me up since I still had 30 minutes left of my break and GUESS WHERE WE WENT:

I bought some new candy and it’s actually good!

I also got a bottle of Nongfu Spring matcha milk tea because guess who endorses Nongfu Spring? BIGBANG whaddup.

It’s been two weeks and I don’t think the novelty of the audit light has worn off yet, surprisingly.

Gayle just sneezed and Julie broke the Keurig.

First skeptical review of the Asian candy just came in: A-ron was confused because he thought there was a second layer of plastic that needed peeled off but then he realized it was a part of it. “Like, flavorful plastic,” he said, after declining an offer for a second helping. Everyone else seems fine with it though.

And my milk tea is divine, now that I’m able to drink it thanks to Wendy and her strong bottle-opening hands.

I’m going to post this now because it’s nearly 4:30, but if anything exciting happens between now and 5:30, you better believe I’ll be back.

ETA: I tried to give Gayle a piece of my new candy and she originally rejected it until I made my Pouting Orphan face; she sighed and took a matcha milky thing which is like a luxuriously mellow taffy thing. AND SHE LIKED IT. Some foreign candy can be good, guys!

Today for Throwback Thursday, I’m going to tell you the story of the picture of my imaginary cousin that has been on my desk at work for like, 5 years. Occasionally, someone stops and asks me who it is, so I guess here is a key to unlock a piece of my work desk of oddities. ENJOY YOURSELF.

****

It was kismet that we ended up having to go out to Tarentum, PA that Saturday.

“This place looks familiar. Have I been here before?” I innocently asked Henry.

When he said yes, it was all angry-sounding. I thought it was just because he was annoyed to be driving us out there, but then I later realized that it was a town where some dude who tried to steal me from Henry lived. No wonder Henry was so put-out.

After spending some time in Blackburn’s Pharmacy taking pictures of the cabinet full of old fashioned apothecary relics and getting asked constantly if we wanted to tour the showroom full of toilet seat raisers and walkers, we found Henry and Chooch emerging from some mysterious, dusty store with no name.

“What’s in there?” I asked.

“Stuff you’ll hate,” Henry murmured, tugging at his blue-collar while struggling to think of a word to play on Words With Friends.

Wanting to be my own judge, I shouldered past him and entered this horrible variety store that stank of hoarder’s perspiration, moldy newspapers and a flea market in a thunderstorm on a humid July morning.

“Told you,” Henry sighed behind me.  But Chooch and Andrea had already been engulfed by the store’s innards, so I inhaled deeply (and immediately regretted it) and followed them into the bowels of the store, snagging myself on the old, rusty store shelves and praying that I didn’t wind up with tetanus. (I never realized that “anus” is in “tetanus.” I will now be thinking of that all day. And possibly drawing pictures.)

And then Andrea found a table of horribly tacky shoes in nauseating shades of orange and yellow, manufactured specifically for women to wear when visiting their men in the Joliet slammer.

I thought for sure Andrea would gravitate toward these jaundiced disco stripper boots, but she surprised me by snatching up a pair of Pee Wee shoes for nurses.

“You’re not really buying those, are you?” I asked, full of disapproval.

“Um, yeah!” she said. “They’re only $10!”

I don’t know, you guys; I feel like she got ripped off. They’re so stupid! Still, I was so worried she was going to forget to take them back to California with her. One less dumb pair of shoes in Pennsylvania!

I’m sad I didn’t see anyone wearing this when I was in Tennessee. I had “Baby, Baby” stuck in my head for at least an hour after touching this.

Chooch and Andrea went off on their own and god only knows where Henry was — looking through bins of 1968 cookbooks and garden tools, probably — and that’s when it happened. I was walking down a cluttered aisle, half expecting that junk lady-troll from Labyrinth to come popping out with a handful of marbles and empty Spam tins for sale, when an image struck me in my periphery.

“Oh how cute,” I thought to myself. “A picture frame company that’s actually using intentionally funny stock photos!

” I snatched one out of the cardboard box they were stashed in all haphazardly, and that’s when I realized that it was not actually a man dressed as a young girl on the day of her dance recital, but actually a young girl dressed as herself on the day of her dance recital.

Almost immediately, I found myself futilely fending off pee drops. I ran around the store, kicking up 85 year old dust and the stench of mothballs in my wake, until I found Chooch and Andrea.

“LOOK AT THIS,” I panted. “I’m getting it.”

And because they’re assholes like me, they both immediately laughed and gave my sweet find a giant thumbs up.

I ran back to look at the price and was shocked to find that it was only (ONE DOLLAR).

For this gem? A buck? What a steal!

I ran past the giant collection of machetes and found Henry near the register, ready to buy a bottle of Mountain Dew.

“Here, you need to buy this, too,” I said all breathlessly, thrusting the boxed frame into Henry’s belly.

He looked at it and smirked. “You’re not serious,” he said in his Father Tone.

Of course he wouldn’t think it was funny. He doesn’t “get” things like this.

It was only supposed to be $1, remember, but the cashier charged him $2. He got all crotchety about this but I hissed, “Pay the broad, it’s worth it!”

***

I couldn’t wait to display it with pride on my desk that Monday, right in front of my kid’s picture and beautifully flanking my fangirl photo of Jonny Craig. I laughed every time someone would tentatively ask, “So…who’s that in the picture?” clearly wondering what side of my family bears Hispanic Amy Winehouse doppelgangers.

Most of my co-workers jumped on my wagon and a mutual appreciation for the awkward dancer was born. Of course there were a few people who said, “I don’t get it…” They can just go sit on a curb somewhere with Henry, drinking Mountain Dew and being boring and humorless.

Every time I feel sad or stressed at work, I look over my shoulder and laugh all over again. I’m so glad Andrea was here to experience this wonder with me. Andrea and her stupid shoes.

This morning, I googled “why do I constantly skip words when I’m writing?” Because I don’t think I have a single godforsaken blog post that isn’t jacked in some way or written like english is my second language. Hard to believe my major was English writing.

I mean sure, I can blame my environment, or the fact that I frequently post from my phone (see: autocorrect shenanigans), but the truth is: I’m concerned. I used to be good! I happened to skim a blog post I wrote on Sunday and by the time I got to the last paragraph, it was obvious that I just wanted to be done writing it because it was a hot mess. I had to delete an entire “sentence” because there was so much wrong with it that I couldn’t tell what I originally intended to say. I’m just that good.

So I asked the Internet doctors.

GREAT NEWS: I probably don’t have a brain tumor. GOOD NEWS: Henry probably isn’t hitting my head with a candlestick in my sleep. BAD NEWS: I might suddenly be autistic? PLAIN NEWS: It’s likely attributed to racing thoughts (oh shit son I have those), lack of sleep (yes), and aging (ugh I’m old).

I want to make some promise that I will start proofreading again like I did back when I treated this dumping ground as my fake job; but the truth is, I probably won’t because I hate reading what I wrote and I’m usually just rushing to get ‘er done anyway. So consider it a mental exercise when you’re struggling to piece together my syntax – you’re welcome!

(I do proofread the shit out of my work emails though, which is how I dodged the fatal error of sending an email to Boobie instead of Bobbie.)

Here are some pictures from my phone. Hopefully I don’t fuck those up, too.

Hey, anyone want to buy some Sarris candy from Anonymous in support of Illuminati? Nothing shady about that, AT ALL.

Me. In a Brookline alley. During a wind storm.

This happened on Facebook and Henry’s response made me LOL. Also the fact that Blake & I were low key arguing over who taught Chooch the fine art of penis penciling. Later, Chooch admitted that his inspiration was the Henry Weener series that  I used to do, and that made me feel so proud!! (And also inspired to start creating those works of art again.)

Henry clearly thinks differently.

When we were checking out at the Asian market on Saturday, I noticed that they offer a glorious array of red light bulbs right by the register (and conveniently right above the Pocky)! This is good to know for when the audit light burns out.

I’ll be able to get kimchi and a new audit light in one trip!

Peen Lop is muy tolerant.

But then again, so is Chooch.

Before I sign off, I have an addendum to my brain (BRAIN, ERIN, NOT BRIAN. BRAIN BRAIN BRAIN) woes: I was walking into work this afternoon and slammed my nose into the glass of the revolving door because I was walking faster than I was pushing. I hate my new invalid self.

(FYI: Henry sat here and yapped his bearded word-hole at me for the last five minutes, because distraction is the key to solid writing.)

Well, ciao for now!

In “Next Door” news, there are legit contractors over there now, doing all the things Boots was supposed to be doing. They’re redoing the entire back of the house, which means we’re getting a new back porch!

I BET YOU DIDN’T KNOW WE HAD A BACK PORCH. 

That’s because we’ve been unable to use it for like, 10 years. 

Anytime there are people in the vicinity wearing toolbelts, Henry gets real chummy with them. I guess it’s the fake fixer-upper in him. The contractors know Boots because he used to work for their company, so they sarcastically asked Henry how it was to live next to him. Everyone knows he’s a piece of shit. 

Anyway, I was at work when Henry started texting me pictures of the work they’re doing and then apparently he got to go INSIDE BOOTS’ HOUSE. 

“Oh it’s fucked over there,” he said. “They have to basically gut that whole side of the house.” Henry said there are huge holes in the walls, even!

I told Glenn and Amber about that today and Glenn said, “No wonder you could hear everything going on there, they were probably shouting into the holes.”

OH WE CAN LAUGH ABOUT IT NOW. 

When I came home yesterday, there was a pickup truck in our yard full of Boots’ stuff. I didn’t even care that this crap-wagon was in my front yard because it’s just a sweet reminder that Boots ain’t coming back y’all. Girl bye. 

***

Chooch and I were just spending some quality time together, working out with the KpopX broads. It was during the Twice “Ooh Ahh” routine that Chooch said, “What do you think Boots is doing in jail right now? Crying? Planning an escape?” And then he started imitating him talking to a prison guard the same way he talked to Phyllis. 

And that was all it took to make me start to pee my pants and then Chooch hit himself accidentally during “Bang Bang Bang” and I was done after that. TOO MUCH GIDDY. I’m worthless for the rest of the night. 

Sunday was another beautiful day! I was (mostly) in a good mood and Henry and Chooch were (mostly) cooperative with my whims.

The highlight was meeting up with Amber¹ for lunch at First Watch. She got a new job recently so I was really happy to see her–we all miss her smiling face, boy band obsession, and conversations about pink salt at work. :(

This was a first time for both of us at First Watch and we both quickly decided we would go back again soon because the menu was full of healthy bullshit and we like that.

“I have to bring Brian here,” Amber said about her fiance. “I think he’ll love it!”

I was about to say something about bringing Henry, but I think he would hate it. They have avocado toast on the menu and Henry is confused by this trend. Personally, I loved the place! Amber and I both had amazing kale juice and I felt like a Californian…or someone in Lawrenceville. Amber got the aforementioned avocado toast and luckily didn’t make the same fatal mistake I once made by eating avocado toast without taking a picture of it first because if you eat avocado toast without taking a picture first DID YOU REALLY EVEN EAT  AVOCADO TOAST?

This same thing happened to me two weeks ago with Halo Top.

Meanwhile, I had major ordering remorse when I got some granola stuff which was delicious, but only would be good if you were a solo diner or with someone who does most of the talking because that shit does not make conversing easy. Every time I tried to say something, I think I flung some oats out of my dumb mouth. My jaw hurt from all the chewing! I eventually gave up and asked for a take out container, at which point I nearly missed the container altogether and came oh-so close to dumping that nutritious shit into my lap.

“My boyfriend usually does this for me,” I nervously laughed as the waitress stood there waiting for me to act like an adult and take care of shit so she could take my empty bowl away.

Speaking of the waitress though! She was really fantastic and even brought us samples of the juices to try. One had turmeric in it and our waitress went on to sing its praises. She had both of us convinced that we need to introduce turmeric pills into our daily routine, so of course I ran home and told Henry that I need turmeric pills.

“Koreans don’t use turmeric,” he said, and I totally believed him but now I’m wondering if he just said that because he doesn’t want to get involved with the turmeric industry.

Anyway, it was so great to see Amber1 and it made me realize that aside from various parties (and the Color Run!), we have never really hung out with each other outside of work. I hope that we make hanging out a habit! We have lots of BIGBANG things to discuss.

When I came home, Henry was standing on the steps, measuring the wall so that he could hang up my Circa Survive tour poster that he finally bought a frame for. He was on the second step from the top, and I was all the way at the top, telling him about all the wonderful food at First Watch that he would probably hate because grains n’ quinoa n’ at, when SUDDENLY he lost his footing and ALMOST FELL DOWN THE STEPS!

He caught himself just in time and then proceeded to fuck with the measuring tape like it was no big thang what just happened, so I did all the freaking out on his behalf. And by that I mean I screamed, “OH MY GOD, YOU ALMOST JUST RUINED OUR WEEKEND!”

And then down the steps, I yelled to Chooch, “DADDY ALMOST FELL DOWN THE STEPS AND RUINED OUR WEEKEND!”

“Ugh, I wish he would have,” Chooch sighed. “Then I wouldn’t have to do this stupid photoshoot.”

Oh yeah, about that.

A few weeks ago, I bought this black velvet blazer at Goodwill with the intention of dressing it up kpop style for Chooch. One night I was looking at it and I thought to myself, “What Would G-Dragon Do?” and since I’m not a billionaire fashionista who hangs with Karl Lagerfeld, I went to the craft store and bought fun-fur and googly eyes.

And then I told Henry what to do with the fun-fur and googly eyes. And after he hot-glued them up his ass, I had him put the rest on the blazer.

We went to Homewood Cemetery later that afternoon. It’s been a hot minute since we desecrated that place with our shitty presence! Long story short, the first fifteen minutes were VERY VOLATILE and I got busted throwing a major temper tantrum by a trio of college girls who were traipsing around with their cameras. I tried to play it off like I wasn’t about to go all Mo’ Murda on my family, but I JUST DON’T LIKE IT WHEN THINGS DON’T GO MY WAY!

And then I flung my hand in the air in exasperation and one of my rings flew off my finger and I couldn’t find it!

“What ring is it?” Henry asked calmly, prodding the grass with his hands.

“THE GOLD BAND,” I wailed.

“What does it look like?”

“It’s a GOLD BAND,” I repeated.

“But what does it look like?”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING IT’S A MOTHERFUCKING GOLD BAND, MOTHERFUCKER. IT LOOKS LIKE A BAND THAT IS GOLD,” I seethed.

For fuck’s sake!!!

(It’s a ring I got in Greece and I wear it on my ring finger so that I can pretend I’m married.)

Thank god Henry found it. I’m wearing it on a fatter finger now so that won’t happen again.

(Meanwhile, Chooch just sat in the grass, taking this whole scene in and smirking because his parents are fucking idiots.)

ANYWAY, here are some pictures of Chooch in his new haute(glue) couture blazer, looking fucking fabulous and he knows it.

“I feel like this is something G-Dragon would do,” Chooch said, looking all aegyo. I AM BRAINWASHING MY FAMILY AND I LOVE IT.

Praying for it to end.

Hey guys, before you send the Cemetery Popo to my crib, please know that these flowers were discarded on the road. We didn’t steal them from someone’s grave – WE’RE ONLY DICKS ON SATURDAYS. After Chooch was done with them, he picked a lonely grave to lay them down on because he is a good, good boy (THAT’S A G-DRAGON SONG).

I showed this picture to Glenn and he was like, “Did you hot glue those to his eyelids too?” and then made some CYS joke and I was like, “OH HO HO CYS has already been to my house for photos I’ve taken in the cemetery.” (Truth. We can laugh about it now.)

(But honestly, WE JUST USED TAPE and it was CHOOCH’S IDEA. HE WANTED THOSE ON HIS EYES. HE ASKED FOR IT OK.)

Oh yeah, he hates this.

We had to use a lint roller on the blazer every 4 minutes because I didn’t buy designer fun-fur, OK? I bought the $2 pelts that shed like a cat with alopecia.

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GOOGLY EYE SELFIE.

After all the initial fighting, it turned out to be a great afternoon in the cem! One of the reasons I like to do these fauxtoshoots is because it gets us out of the house doing shit for free, and then we usually end up having a pretty good time. And I get to add to my collection of Embarrassing Photos of Chooch to Show His Future Dates.

If nothing else, this blog post taught me that it’s TURMERIC and not tumeric.  Who knew. Not me.

There’s this kid who lives down the street and for no real concrete reason, he’s my least favorite neighborhood kid. There’s just something sneaky-looking about him and I don’t even try to keep my disdain for him a secret. He knows I don’t like him and he probably doesn’t like me either AND I DON’T CARE. One of the things that really annoys me about him is that he’s younger than Chooch but totally sasses him!

I flipped out about this in the car on Saturday and started ranting about how Americans could stand to learn a thing or two from Korean culture. They take age and kinship very seriously over there and if someone is even just one year older than you, then there’s a certain way you have to address them. IT’S KIND OF A BIG DEAL. So in Chooch and this kid’s case, Chooch would be considered his “hyung,” like an older brother-type relationship.

“In Korea, you respect people who are older than you. Chooch is his hyung and that brat should respect him more!” I cried.

“Oh you’re one to talk about respecting people who are older than you,” Henry sneered, and then I realized he was talking about my complete and utter lack of respect for him, 14 years my senior.

That’s not true—I call him oppa sometimes!

(Also, I have to tell Blake that he needs to start calling Chooch his dongsaeng, which is totally going to piss off Chooch.)

****

I went to visit my friend Jessy in the hospital on Saturday, but since we had some shopping to do later, Henry and Chooch came with me and just chilled in the cafeteria. I was with Jessy for a little over an hour, regaling her about BIGBANG and whatnot (my life is so exciting), and when I went back to the lobby, I found Henry and Chooch sitting with some really old lady. I thought maybe Henry knew her somehow, but apparently she just decided that all of the 100s of empty chairs could fuck off because she wanted the one right next to the only other people sitting in the whole entire lobby. A halmeoni* can sit wherever she pleases!

*(My Korean textbooks** haven’t arrived yet so god only knows what I’m talking about. Everything I’ve learned so far is from YouTube vlogs from Canadians living in Seoul, kpop translations, and variety shows. Although when Glenn sneezed at work the other day, I said, “I need to find out how to address your sneezes in Korean!” but then I quickly learned that sneezes are not acknowledged with any type of traditional blessing in Korea and that if you do say “bless you” in Korean, people will look at you weird. So I texted Henry this new piece of info so that we can know to just ignore sneezes when we’re in Korea so that no one will look at us weird. “They’re already going to look at us weird,” Henry replied and I sent him the biggest TOUCHÉ of my life.)

**(I’m old school and cannot learn a language through an app. I NEED GOOD OLD-FASHIONED BOOKS.)

As we walked through the hospital parking lot, Henry recounted all of the food he had to eat in the cafeteria (pizza, Chooch’s rejected red velvet cake, and his own piece of coconut cake) and then they both told me the somber tale of the time Chooch thought he was abandoned when he went to the bathroom and came back to find Henry GONE from the lobby, so he went to the desk and asked the ladies, “Have you seen a man?” and didn’t even describe him or offer up a composite drawing, which is a shame because I would have drawn Heidi’s grandfather, fresh from the mountains.

Seriously though.

Have you seen a man.

That’s my brilliant kid.

(I can disrespect him all I want because he’s merely the maknae of the house.)

Turns out, Henry went to the bathroom a little bit after Chooch, but went to a different one, AND THEN COMEDY ENSUED.

Again, our lives are so exciting.

****

On the way to various stores (the Asian market of course and also the craft store because I’m a clothes designer now remember), we had an in depth conversation about China White, because I had referenced it the night before, totally randomly and Henry was like, “Wow OK 1990s” and I argued that I thought it was more of a thing in the 80s but then I never got a chance to look it up because Robbie and Nikki stopped over and I forgot about it because HUMAN INTERACTION. So then in the car on Saturday, I was like, “LOL remember China White” and then I started googling it again so that’s why my search history looks like that OK?!

****

Also on Saturday, I had breakfast with Jeannie at Pamela’s (after she completely ignored me on the sidewalk when I waved and yelled, “HI!” to her, and then let the door shut on me, RUDE.) Wendy was supposed to meet us there but she ended up having to help her husband fix his car or something, I didn’t read the whole text because I was tired but it was definitely something about a brake line and bleeding and then I pictured Wendy in bloody Michael Myers coveralls with a wrench protruding from her pocket.

And then I made Jeannie tell me things about Seoul because she was there once, twenty years ago, and she said that if Henry reneges on his promise to take me next year, she will go with me so SUCK IT HENRY, I’m going to Korea one way or another.

(I don’t think Henry will renege. He knows I’m serious because I’ve already cut back the number of concerts I go to, merch I purchase, weekend trips I take, etc etc – I basically do nothing now and I’m fine with it because get me to Korea. Henry was actually looking up flights the other day just to get an idea and he never looked more hot to me in my whole life.)

****

Later, we went to Eat n Park for some dessert action and we found ourselves reminiscing about all the times Jessy’s husband Tommy made Chooch cry, and then all the times our friend Bill made Chooch cried, and Chooch just shook his head and smiled fondly at all of this. Somehow, we got on the topic of Chooch’s old school, that piece of shit Catholic school across the street from us, and in a moment of honesty, I blurted out, “Chooch, did you ever know about all of the trouble I caused over there with the parents?” And Chooch just scoffed and said, “Yeah because of your blog” so I guess I must have told him the story already at one point, probably on a night when I was drinking wine, because boy do I like to talk when I’m drinking wine.

And because I TOTALLY LEARNED MY LESSON, I started mocking one of the mom’s who confronted me and Chooch was like, “Yeah, why did you even hate her anyway?”

“Oh I didn’t hate her at all prior to that. I hated her husband. He was some total douche who irritated me on one of your field trips,” I laughed. “But, I did call the mom Horse Face after that though.”

“Oh my god,” Chooch sighed. “What was I thinking, taking you with me on a field trip? Of all people!”

Hindsight, etc etc.

****

OK, I have things to do now. Annyeong!

It’s been nearly two weeks of pure neighborless bliss over here on Pioneer. I kept putting this blog post on the back burner though because I was so afraid that I was going to jinx the situation, but it’s really looking like Boots will not ever be coming back here so…story time!

I wasn’t here when it happened, but allegedly on the morning of February 13th, some kid ran over to Hot Naybor Chris’s neighbor and said that he had been robbed and asked if he saw a man with the description of Boots.

This is where details get hazy because that neighbor told Hot Naybor Chris who told Henry who told me. Major telephone game in action, and then you have to factor in Henry’s abysmal story-telling skills.

The next thing HNC’s neighbor knew, cops from three different areas had rolled up with a police dog and started searching around our block of houses. Then they came back with the landlord who let them into Boots’ house, and they questioned the random man who was living there with Boots. I guess that dude wasn’t involved in anything because they let him go back in the house.

(He’s the guy that Boots was fighting with the weekend before this happened, and that guy was heated because Boots had apparently stolen three packs of cigarettes from his room.)

Then the police left and found Boots somewhere down the street and ARRESTED HIS GUMBY ASS.

Man, I thought for sure it was going to be for drugs, but it turns out he robbed and assaulted some old man, which appears to be unrelated to the young guy who was questioning HNC’s neighbor so what was that all about?! (I don’t know HNC’s neighbor’s name, but we call him Brookline Shawn because he’s always in the driveway working on his car and he reminds us of Wendy’s husband Shawn. #coolstory)

SEE? I wish I had been here. I hate that I got the FOURTH-HAND account of that day’s sordid events.

I was really worried that Boots was going to get out of jail and come right back, but our landlord was like, “Nope, I’m posting a notice of abandonment on his door” so this is basically the perfect out for our landlord to be able to evict that sleazy-ass motherfucker with ease.

Peace out, Boots. 

And true to his word, the notice was posted!

Guys, that Cap’n Crunch box has been taped up over a broken window for two months. SO CLASSY. I can’t tell you how many times I’d be walking down the sidewalk and catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye and think someone was watching me.

Chooch was standing on Boots’ porch and reading the sign the other day, when the guy who lives in the house next to ours came out and said, “Your friend’s gone, huh?” and Chooch was like, “Stop talking to me, stranger” but the guy went on to say, “He was a loud one, wasn’t he? Sorry you had to deal with that.” I would like to point out that HE LIVES IN A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT HOUSE and could hear how loud that derelict was.

Boots’ real name was written on the sign, so Henry diligently looked him up and that dumb motherfucker has quite the rap sheet. It seems his life took a turn in 1987 and he continued to make poor choice after poor choice. We learned that he was already on probation when this happened (which makes sense because there was one normal-looking guy who would visit sometimes and Henry joked that it was probably his parole officer. So, it was probably his parole officer).

“Oh, he’s not going anywhere,” Henry laughed, when I said that I was afraid he was still going to come back. For the next day or two, some weird people were over there slithering in and out of the house like cockroaches, probably getting their weird shit out of the house. But ever since the notice was posted, no one has been back.

Except for the actual contractors who have been over there doing the work that Boots was supposed to be doing, and probably fixing the additional damage Boots did in the short time he inhabited that side of the house.

It’s nice to know that we were living next to an aggravated assaulter, robber, and fucking drug addict. What a piece of shit. GOODBYE FOREVER. 

(Although, sometimes when it’s too quiet in our house, I swear I can hear him over there WOOing and yelling to himself, like phantom pains IN MY HEAD.)

If you’ve ever spent any decent amount of time with Henry and me, odds are you have seen him look like this, which I call the Please God, I’ve Cried ‘Uncle’ 87 Times, Take Me Away mode. 

This particular picture was taken in 2003 when Blake & Robbie (then pre-teens!) were in the car and we were screaming at people out the window until henry eventually rolled them up and locked them. :(

It hasn’t gotten any better, 14 years later. Now he’s got me and Chooch screaming like asshole lunatics. 

I love this picture. Anytime I make Henry look like this, where it appears his bandana’d spirit is trying to vacate his body, I consider that a huge success. 

Moments where he may find him in this meditative state:

• When Chooch & I are sick in tandem
• After the third G-Dragon gif of the day I’ve sent him

• When I decide I don’t like a certain vegetable anymore after he’s bought like, a bushel of it
• Just now when he tried to take a blanket and I wrapped my legs around it because all I want to do is play games so he gave up and will sleep in the cold 
• Watching me butter bread
• During my intense apple phase
• When Chooch loses another house key
• When Chooch and I fight over control of Spotify in the car
• When Chooch and I think we’re talking about people discreetly but….no. 
• When Chooch and I tag along to the grocery store/Home Depot/the flea market/his work
• The entire 8 years I obsessed over Jonny Craig
• Anytime Christina comes back in the picture
• Every concert ever
• When Kara sends me some ludicrous auction full of old bumper cars
• When Kara points out another clown picture I need for my collection and then it comes home with me
• When Chooch won’t shut the door. 

Well, I’m still sick. Probably a normal person would be like, ‘OH, THIS LIL’ COLD?’ in a dismissive Blanche Devereaux tone, but I don’t get sick very often so when I do, EVERYONE KNOWS IT. I actually get “sort of sick” a lot, where I feel like I’m ABOUT to get sick, like I’m the precipice of good health, about to take the plunge into Germ River, so then I start complaining about OMG MY GLANDS or MY THROAT FEELS STRANGE and then nothing comes of it. My immune system is wack.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I have no energy so here are some pictures from when we went Chong’s for a late lunch on Saturday, and it was beautiful.

We drove an hour to get here and it was worth it. We didn’t even fight!

Chooch is the pickiest eater, and now that he’s a vegetarian he’s even worse. What will he do if we go to Korea?! (Change that “if” to a “when” btw.) However, we got him to eat some kimbap (he doesn’t like the pickled radish but at least he’s down with seaweed) and guksu. Then I spent 10 seconds trying to teach him how to use chopsticks before my frustration got the best of me. I’m not a teacher! I don’t even know how I learned. I taught myself in elementary school and  then made my mom buy me purple chopsticks from Pier 1.

Ugh I wish I still had those.

He said he enjoyed his guksu though, and of course he inhaled the melon popsicle that the sweet lady-owner gave us on the house. The other thing Chooch enjoyed was the bell on our table to get the waiter’s attention. We took that away from him real quick-like, after he rang it and then Henry had to add some off-the-cuff bindaeduk to our order when the waiter diligently responded to Chooch’s summoning.

My favorite part though was that over in Savannah, my k-Kraze inspired Octavia to also go out for Korean food! She asked me for some suggestions and I was like, “Get whatever you want to eat, but you have to listen to BIGBANG on the way home” AND SHE DID. She said “Bang Bang Bang” is her favorite and I don’t blame her for choosing that one because it’s the motherfucking jam.

And then Chooch let me take some pictures of him, and then we had ice cream for dinner. It was pretty much a perfectly well-rounded Saturday in February.

AND NOW I’M SICK.

I took a day off work because I have some kind of cold/allergy thing happening (I can never tell the difference) and was so miserable yesterday that Dr. Amber was like OMG STAY HOME TOMORROW. So I did and I’m still sick but also BORED. I absolutely do not know how to rest. I did go back to sleep for an hour after sending Chooch off to school, so there’s that. Progress?

So far today, I have: 

• washed three dishes, 
• eaten a bowl of cereal because I can’t prepare Korean breakfasts for myself, 
• watched some BTS videos, 
• called Henry to whine, 
• texted Lisa to whine (she’s going to call me later so I can whine out loud), 
• watched a compilation video of BIGBANG eating, 
• watched a compilation video of G-Dragon laughing, 
• played with a packing peanut with Drew, 
• groaned a lot, cried to some Balance & Composure which strangely is what I was doing a year ago today according to TimeHop. 

It’s not even 11:00am yet!!!

What do you guys do when you’re sick?? Henry goes straight upstairs and sleeps for like 6 days. I can’t do that. I’m just sitting here on the couch, fully dressed, wanting something to do but every time I stand up, I get* dizzy and have to sit back down. 

*(autocorrect tried to change “get” to “GD” because I text Henry about G-Dragon so much lol.)

I should probably take some type of medicine at some point. Yesterday, I went upstairs at work to the first aid cabinet thing for generic cold medicine and got one of them stuck in my throat, which was the highlight of Glenn’s work day. Then Wendy walked by and was all, “Aw, because Henry’s not here to crush them up for you?” UGH WENDY. 

Then I stupidly said something about never knowing which kind of pill I need and Glenn was all, “they don’t make pills for what you have.” Walked right into that web. 

Maybe I’ll make this is a liveblog so check back I guess. I hate today. FUCK YOU IMMUNE SYSTEM. 

Now it’s 11:30 and I have:

• Talked to Lisa on the phone,
• Played referee to a cat melee,
• Cleaned up dirt from a succulent pot that drew knocked off the windowsill
• Checked for a fever but I can’t tell because I used the back of my hand and not a thermometer

I want to watch an episode of Boys Over Flowers but Henry will cry if I watch it without him. He won’t watch Walking Dead anymore (he lost interest but it’s probably just too confusing for him) so he laid in bed while Chooch and I watched it Sunday night, then he came back down when it was over and casually mumbled, “Uh, let’s watch Boys Over Flowers.” He’s Team Jun Pyo. 

Every time I try to sit up, I fall back down. I want to go outside :(

Now it’s 1:22pm. I have done nothing but watch vlogs about Korea and whimper. THEN THE LIGHTBULB BURNT OUT IN THE LAMP IN THE LIVING ROOM AND I DONT KNOW WHERE HENRY KEEPS THE LIGHTBULBS. So I cried. 

I CRIED BECAUSE I CANT DO ANYTHING CAN I?!

2:09pm catch-up:

• Tried to reheat the leftover ramyun henry made for dinner last night but it needed more ramyun in it so I was like paralyzed in front of the stove trying to cook ramyun and then when it was time to fry the egg, FORGET IT. what a disaster. I am truly sorry that I did that to you, Egg. 
• Mistakenly told Henry that I thought I ruined his pan in my egg frying odyssey and he was like MY NEW KOREAN PAN? STAY AWAY FROM MY NEW PAN! OMG I HAVE TO GO, IM MAD. He probably went to blow off some steam by smashing his other foot with the pallet jack. Boyfriend suffers many injuries at the hand of the pallet jack.
• My right eye is not as swollen as it was when I woke up this morning so I look less like Sloth from Goonies but still not Ready For The Public. 
• So tired of this couch. 
• My right contact had the shape of a coffee filter but I still put it in my eye. But when I inevitably start complaining about going blind like I do bi-monthly, just please conveniently forget this. 
• I think my muscles are atrophying. 

All I want for dinner is a sun-hahahahaha-daeeeeeeee. A grasshopper one! 

2:28 update:

• I’m not saying I’m magic but I was listening to Balance & Composure today and crying, as you do when you listen to sad boy music, and then they just announced their spring tour which is coming to Pgh! I’m so excited. Hardly any shows have been coming through here lately that I have been stoked for, which is actually good because I’m trying to save money, but still. I want something to get me stoked! And it’s not like I’ll be seeing BIGBANG anytime soon. (OR EVER.)
• Guess where I am??!! Still on the couch, half-laying down.  
• Chooch should be coming home from school soon so I’ll have companionship. UNLESS HE DITCHES ME FOR HIS FRIENDS. 

4:07pm updates:

• Chooch never even came home because he went to that godforsaken gaming place with his friend and Henry still isn’t home and I finally moved off the couch and couldn’t stand up straight for almost an entire minute!!!
• Texted with Chris about Enrique & Julio Iglesias and then we changed Henry’s name to Henrique.
• Now I’m watching the video for Miguel’s “All I Want Is You” and having FEELINGS. In 2013, I had a mix CD (seriously a mix CD) that had the entire Downtown Battle Mountain 2 on it and this song, and it spun on repeat in my bedroom for a good five months. No joke – you can ask henry. He wanted to defenestrate himself by week three. 
• Honestly how do you people “rest.” I ALMOST fell asleep once today but then I got bored. 
• Every time I move, my face leaks. 
• Both of the cats dipped out on me a few hours ago so I have been ALL ALONE. 
• I tried to clean my room but then I started wheezing so back to the couch for me. :(:(:(:(

Also I watched this video like 88 times because of that 5 second acapello “If You” at the end OH MY HEART. 

HENRIQUE IS HOME AND HE BROUGHT ME A GRASSHOPPER SUNDAE! I can’t taste it though :(

5:27pm updates:

• Henry left me again to go pick up Chooch from the gaming place and there is some guy in my driveway talking. In a heart-stopping moment, I thought Boots was back so I legit rolled my ass off the couch and peered out the window but it was just some guy and a dog talking to Hot Naybor Chris. 
• Henry just came home and I made him hug me twice BECAUSE IM SO SAD SICK & LONELY. 
• I feel worse now. Like a swarm of hornets is nesting inside my forehead. 
• HENRY IS THE ONLY PERSON IN THE WORLD WHO I LIKE TO HUG. He’s not honored by this though. 

7:35pm update:

Everything in my sinuses is solidifying and now I feel like I was hit in the face with Henry’s new Korean pan that I did not ruin in my egg-frying odyssey. 

What I’ve done since my last check-in:

• Watched a bunch of live BIGBANG videos
• Watched some eatyourkimchi vlogs with Henry. 
• Stole a piece of Henry’s pizza and bit into it even though he told me it was hot and now I have a burnt mouth in addition to splitting sinuses. 
• Got henry to discuss Kpop. He likes BIGBANG but his review of the other boy idol groups is: “they just like, dance in a V, right?” And then he shrugged because dancing in a v doesn’t impress Henrique the Kpop Judge. 

I think we are going to watch Boys Over Flowers now after Henry crushes up some medicine for me. LOL just kidding. 

He’ll roll it up in a piece of cheese. 

(He just said, “You didn’t take any of this today?!” And I was like “No. I didn’t know what to do” and now he’s acting all disappointed in my lack of independence like this is some new discovery.)

Another post full of bulleted nonsense. Such a blogger. Imagine if I had actually finished college and got that English writing degree.  (I just imagined it and I’m greeting people at Walmart.)

• For a brief window last weekend, Henry had taken over the TV and put on English programming, which was mildly annoying, but at least it was some Gordon Ramsay thing on YouTube and not American bullshit. When Gordon said “rack of lamb” and I was shocked because I was fully expecting him to say “rackalacka,” I knew it was time to get some rest in a dark room somewhere underground, probably for the rest of winter, next to a bear.
• We got some snow two weeks ago, when Boots was still our neighbor, and Henry texted me at work to tell me that he was shoveling his sidewalk with a drywall knife. I turned around to immediately inform Glenn of this update, because my co-workers are invested in this drama. Then after a brief pause, I said, “I don’t even know what that is.” A minute later, I received an email from Glenn with a picture of a drywall knife. “Oh. Yeah, if I had been home, I would have just thought he was using a sharp dustpan.” THE IRONY IS THAT MY PAPPAP OWNED A DRYWALL COMPANY, LOL. I clearly only paid attention to the shiny things that drywall company afforded me to have.
• Speaking of! There was a discussion about cough drops one day at work, and Nate and I agreed that Ricola are superior, the actually Bae of Cough Suppressants. “I got to blow into one of those ricola horns in Switzerland,” I not-so-humblebragged. Glenn needed more information, so I explained that we were at a dinner show for my 10th birthday, and the performers were letting people on stage to blow into those horns they play in the Ricola commercials (hence “ricola horn” duh) and my family was totally shocked that I went up on my accord to participate because I was so shy when I was that age. “Wow, your grandparents took you all over the place, didn’t they,” Glenn said, for once not saying anything disparaging about one of my beautiful stories. “Yeah,”  I laughed. “It didn’t really prepare me for being a poor adult.”
• There’s this song by Girl’s Generation called “Lion heart” and every time I hear it, the beginning of it sounds similar to an older song from the 70s and it was driving me NUTS because I couldn’t think of it. So I played Lion Heart for Henry and he was like QUESTION MARK. All I could come up with was that the song I was thinking of was in the Jacki Sorensen Encore aerobics video I used to fuck with all the time when I was younger, and Henry was like, “Yeah, that clue doesn’t help me at all.” Anyway, I was able to find a tracklist for that Jacki Sorensen VHS (I CAN BUY IT ON VINYL FOR $4!!!) and immediately knew it was Rita Coolidge’s classic late 70s hit “Higher and Higher.” So I played it for Henry back to back with Lion Heart and he just gave me a noncommittal shrug in response. ANYWAY, I’m only telling you this because the next night we went to Eat n Park for dinner and while Henry was at the salad bar, HIGHER AND HIGHER came on so I started yelling, “Henry!!!” was desperately pointing at the speakers in the ceiling while trying to mime “LISTEN TO WHAT SONG IT IS” and it took him awhile but then he understood and laughed. What the fuck is up with Eat n Park and their psychic soundsystem? This just happened two weeks ago when Chooch was singing “Summer of ’69” and it started playing at the same time. Something else happened there too, music-related, but now I can’t remember, however, I can remember the table we were sitting at. So there’s that. Also, Boz Scaggs.

I mean, it’s not exact, but it was similar enough to trigger a correlation in my brain, so step off.

• If you don’t work with me, you won’t care about this, but we’ve implemented a red light as an AUDIT ALERT. Sandy actually had this idea about a year ago, but for some reason, we never did anything about it. Then on Friday, Lou came out of the printer room with an audit in his hand and said, “There really needs to be a light or something that will let us know when there are audits over there.” Long story short: audits are the only thing we do I our department un-electronically. Like, we actually print that shit out and put it in a tray for someone to pick up. It’s very vintage. Anyway, after Lou said that, I pulled out the old lamp that I used three Halloweens ago when I decorated my desk like a funeral home. It’s just been chillin’ under my desk this whole time. YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU’LL FIND UNDER THERE, OK. There were no available outlets to plug it in over where the audits actually reside, but since most of the people who handle the audits sit near me, we felt that putting it on the ledge next to my desk would suffice. Commence a day full of Red Light District and Roxanne jokes.I turned it on once to try it out and Chris came running out of his office in fake audit panic. When there actually was an audit, I turned on the lamp but then panicked because it was so bright, so then I blurted out, “LOU THERE’S AN AIUDIT!” and turned off the lamp. Todd and Glenn were simultaneously like, “What the hell is the point of the lamp if you’re just going to yell that there’s an audit?” and then they were mocking me and saying, “LOU, DINNER’S READY” because I guess I sounded like his mom, ugh. “This is going to have a Pavlov’s effect on them,” Glenn mumbled.

  “They’re going to start drooling every time the light turns on.” Then I proposed that I start chucking Asian candy at whoever brings the audit back to me and everyone seemed on board with that idea. I’m going to look for spiky ones next time I’m at the Asian market.

• Anyway, all this succeeded in doing was setting off my Giddy Meter, and I had to put my head down at one point because I was choking on giggles. And this reminded me of the time in 8th grade when my homeroom teacher put a chair in the hallway and made me sit out there every time I was overcome with giddiness.
  • Being this giddy and thinking about 8th grade gave me flashbacks to the GREATEST STORY OF MY WHOLE LIFE, and that is one about The Man Who Crossed the Street. This is a TRUE STORY which you can read by clicking that link but if you had the good fortune of sitting near me at work on Friday, then you got to hear me regale a bunch of confused ears with a real life re-telling of this story, in between actual chokes on laughter. After work, I was trying to tell Henry that I told everyone this story but I started laughing all over again and he was just like, “Oh god, that story? I’ll never understand why it’s so funny.” Then Henry said that he wouldn’t be surprised if my giddy bray got me moved to solitary confinement at work, or Gayle’s hallway.
  • What this taught me is that I’m basically the same person I was in 8th grade. I think I’m OK with that.
    • My only explanation is that I had two head injuries during my formative years. Cut me some slack, you guys.
      • Toward the end of the day, Sue came over and said, “OK Lucy, ‘splain” and nodded toward the lamp. She seemed shock that this was actually work-related and admitted that she thought Glenn was trying to be mean to me (LOL, “trying”). Then she said, “But where did the lamp come from?” And I was like, “Oh, it’s from my funeral desk.” After she walked away, I said to Lauren, “That sounds so normal in my head….” and Lauren finished, “But every time you say it out loud, it’s like you realize and then you stutter!” and then oh how we laughed.
        • My favorite part was when Sandy walked by and announced, “Ooh, the audit light’s on! There’s an audit!” and then Ethan came out of his office to get the audit, so Sandy said, “See, it works!” “I didn’t know the light was on until I heard you say that the light was on,” Ethan said, dashing all of our hopes and dreams.

(^^^SEE? IT WAS A BIG DEAL.)

• Henry’s kimbap and banchan is off the charts lately. He even taught (I almost typed “teached” there – so what you’re telling me is that I’d be a great candidate for US Secretary of Education) Chooch how to roll kimbap after he expressed interest. EVERYTHING RULES IN MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW.
  
• You know what America needs? A fucking hero. Maybe it could have been HENRY if he hadn’t gone AWOL from the SERVICE all those years ago. Good one, Henry. Can I nominate G-Dragon as our hero?

• One of my work friends asked me if I got my hair cut the other day and I said no because my memory might be malfunctioning on the daily but I knew for a fact that I haven’t been to a salon in a very long time, but then hours later, I replayed that short conversation in my head and realized that I’M A LIAR because I had recently cut my own hair, so yes – yes, I did get my hair cut. I swear I’m not a pathological liar.
  • I honestly cut my hair with half-rusted scissors and get more compliments now than when I paid $100 at a salon. HOW.
  • I cut my hair myself because I love the sound of scissors on dry hair. Fight me.
• Last night, Henry was watching live BIGBANG performances on YouTube all on his own. He’s never done that with any other band I like, just saying.
• I just told Chooch he’s annoying and Henry snapped, “you’re both annoying.”

ON THAT NOTE.

Today was a perfect Saturday, mostly because we all got along (an amazing feat) and Chooch even let me take pictures of him without any push-and-pull or bribery! However, when I asked him what we should call this photo set, he said, “I don’t give a fuck” so there you go. IDGAF.

The other night, Chooch told me that I looked like Lady Gaga threw up on me. I’ll take that as a compliment.

That eyebrow/scowl combo, you guys.

Chooch got his hair cut last Friday by some guy with a handlebar moustache. It looks nothing like the picture of TOP we gave the barber for reference, but it’ll do. Henry bitched the whole time about the salon being such a hipster cesspool, but then pacified himself by perusing the barber’s own line of beard oil. Oh, Henry.

Afterward, we walked to Scoops to get ice cream and even though the place was packed, I felt no anxiety at all. On another day, I probably would have said NOPE and left Henry and Chooch standing half inside the shop. That’s how I know for sure today is a good day. I think Korea is saving my life.

It’s nothing new that I have a penchant for foreign candy and love offering it up at work. I usually have some type of concerning confection in my broken candy urn at any given time, like the durian taffy that still haunts Jamie five years later.  (Currently, there are some kind of coffee things from the Netherlands that have been festering in there since over the summer.) I like to think that people are just afraid of slicing a tendon from sticking their hand in between shards of jagged ceramic, so maybe it’s more of a safety thing and not so much a desire to not activate their gag reflex.

I recently brought in some Asian candy even though Henry always yells, “YOU KNOW YOU’RE PROBABLY NOT GOING TO LIKE IT!” And he’s right a lot of the time. This time I like 2 out of 3 of the shit I bought.

The loser of this batch was a bag of curious rice krispie-looking things called Uncle Pop Baked Puffs. I opened one the night before I took them to work and both cats came rushing over and practically mauled me for it. I took one taste and the verdict was in pretty quickly: NOPE.

It tasted like a pizzelle that had been soaked in water, microwaved, fried, and then soaked in water again – the texture was more of BLOATED puff, not baked. And then for whatever reason, there were bits of dried kiwi stuck to it.

The aftertaste was shelf.

I set it down on the table and the cats started fighting each other for it and then tore that shit up.

“There’s gotta be fish in this,” Henry murmured, squinting at the ingredients.

Then Penelope tried to break into my work purse to get the rest!

Something to consider.

The next day at work, I filled up one of my plastic trick-or-treat pumpkins with the new eastern goods, hoping that a universally-accepted candy receptacle with no sharp pieces might entice more reaches.

People have been enjoying the Asian candies all week (one is coconut but has a honeycomb on the wrapper, and the other is some chocolate thing with a happy boy on the wrapper), but everyone is skeptical of the Unclepops. Glenn and Shannon unanimously voted it off the island, but Todd said that it wasn’t the worst thing he ever had ever eaten and that he might consider eating it again if he was starving.

But there were no other takers for over a week. I even put one in Lauren’s candy helmet to try to trick a bitch because no one would ever suspect Lauren of such villainy. But no one would take it.

Then the other day, Nate came over and, after getting sexually harassed by Catherine, I decided WHY STOP THERE and attempted to harass his taste buds too so I coaxed him into trying an Unclepop.

His review was that it tasted like stale stuffing.

“But wait…now it kind of tastes sweet….yeah, I’d dunk this in coffee for sure,” he said, finishing it off. We were all amazed and awed at this display of brave eats.

“Nate ate one of those gross Asian rice krispie things!” I told Henry as I got in the car after work.

“You mean those things that I told you to throw out because they expired a year ago?” Henry frowned, his everyday mask of disappointment fastened tightly over his face. “You’re feeding people expired food?!”

Wow. Somehow I missed that part.

No wonder they tasted like shelf to me!

The next day,  I went to work and threw them out. I mean, I don’t think anyone will die. My cats are still alive.