You know you realllly love a band when you road trip 4 hours to  see them play at a show they’re not even headlining.

And that’s usually pretty annoying for Henry, but the difference this time is that my whole family loves Emarosa so very much. So when this tour was announced and I declared we had to go, especially since the Lancaster date was a Saturday, Henry didn’t have his laminated laundry list of reasons to say no.

A few weeks ago, I realized it was Easter weekend that we’d be there and because I’m such a logical thinker, I decided it was imperative to make the band an Easter basket. I thought Henry would frown, but he was all about it and dare I say ALMOST EXCITED to go to various local breweries to select some some good Pittsburgh craft beer to tuck in there among the Sarris candy and bags of Pittsburgh Popcorn.

Everyone was like, “HOW WILL YOU GET IT TO THEM?!” and I was mildly worried that there was a possibility we wouldn’t get a chance to, but because Chooch was involved, everything fell into place.

Sometimes, Chooch is key.

But that comes later!

Henry titled this “Two Idiots In a Mirror.”

After pissing around in our hotel room and making Henry hate us for about an hour, we departed for the Chameleon Club in downtown Lancaster. Three years and one day ago to the date, we took Chooch to his very first concert there: Pierce the Veil. Henry tweeted something about it and tagged Emarosa, which I didn’t even think he knew how to do.

(Also, I only know this because Henry showed me that Emarosa liked it; I had previously unfriended Henry from every social media platform a few days prior to this because I was throwing one of my fits.)

We got there about 30 minutes before doors opened and we weren’t too far back in the line, but then some guy came out and started screaming about a Will Call line forming to the left, and our tickets were Will Call, much to Henry’s chagrin.

“Why wouldn’t you just print them at home!?” he argued, and I explained in my patented calm manner that it was because I bought the tickets with not enough time to have them mailed to us, and I wanted real,tangible tickets so I chose Will Call. SO STFU AND DO IT YOURSELF NEXT TIME. Anyway, the Will Call line only had 8 people in it, as opposed to the 75+ people who we had previously been standing behind, and once the doors opened and we got our tickets, we got to walk right in instead of going to the very back of the other line. (I mean, after we got stuck behind some idiot getting thrown out for having a fake ID. The security guard kept apologizing to us for that holding up the line and I was like, “NO WAY THAT WAS EXCITING!” He just laughed but I MEANT IT.)

What this means is that since we were one of the first people inside, we got a prime spot in an elevated bar section behind the sound guy, so Chooch was able to not only see the stage perfectly, but we didn’t have to worry about him getting crushed down on the floor. And he got to sit on a stool. If you know Chooch and his OMG SUCH FATIGUED LEGS, then you know he was in heaven. Plus, Chameleon Club has a snack bar so he got to eat pizza. This venue was made with the Chooches of the world in mind. Clearly.

This was when we first walked in, but it filled up super quickly. People in Lancaster actually come out for all of the bands, unlike in Pittsburgh when the venue doesn’t become packed until the headliner comes on. (Unless the show is at the Smiling Moose.)

Sitting on his stool, all relaxed.

The first band was Rarity from Canada. Henry’s reaction was “No.” I didn’t mind them. It was basically just pop punk but then things got weird at the end and I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or if the singer had legitimately snapped and was going to start shooting everyone. The music got all drone-y and he just kept screaming, “FUCKING SING” or something; my mind has blocked it out in order to protect me, I think. I don’t know if it was just me, but it felt super creepy and CHILLING.

Henry said it was probably just me.

I am pretty paranoid.

Young Music Critic.

After their set ended, Bradley walked in from the back of the stage area. Chooch was all, “BRADLEY! BRADLEY!” but he didn’t hear and kept walking, so Chooch was like scrambling down from his stool in order to chase him. Henry was like, “I guess I should be a father and follow him.” So the two of them set off for the merch area, which is where Bradley was headed, and I got stuck behind saving King Chooch’s Concert Throne. Henry said Chooch was all confident and rearin’ to go until he got near Bradley and then turned shy and star-struck. “Sort of like you,” Henry muttered.

I just asked Chooch to tell me exactly how the next part happened, and he’s telling me while playing some video game and also arguing with Henry, so this is going to be a very crudely pieced-together puzzle. Evidently, he and Henry walked over to the merch table and before Chooch could even say anything, Bradley saw him and gave him a hug. Henry used this opportunity to tell him that we had something for the band, so that took a lot of pressure off me. Because in the back of my mind, I was like, “WHAT IF WE DON’T GET TO SEE THEM AFTER AND THIS SAD EASTER BASKET WAS ALL FOR NAUGHT?!” I’m definitely at that point in my life where I am no longer mistaken for a groupie but a concerned band mom. I JUST WANT TO MAKE SURE THEY’RE EATING! And maybe some of them don’t care, but it made me sad to think of them being away from their family on Easter. I don’t know. I’m soft now. The thirties are ruining me.

Bradley said he knew we were there because he saw Henry’s dumb tweet (probably only the third tweet he’s had since 2011) and then, because he loves to fuck with Chooch, told him he wasn’t going to be able to sing that night because he wasn’t feeling well. When they came back to me, Chooch’s face was all red and he was giggling deliriously. Any one who can make my kid speechless deserves a medal!

The next band was Cold Rain.

“Bradley said they’re from Japan,” Henry casually reported, as if he wasn’t just exploding with joy that he had intel on a band which was provided to him by the singer of another band. STFU Henry.

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In a rare turn of events, all three of us liked them and Henry was happy to buy their CD (and Chooch was disappointed that they didn’t have vinyl; my budding record snob!).

AND THEN FINALLY EMAROSA. YOU GUYS OMG OMG OMG YOU GUYS. OK, breathe Erin. Quit with the CAPSLOCK, Erin. Act your age, Erin. (<—-LOL4EVER.) In all honesty, do I really need to pound out words about how great this band is? And what a major fucking upgrade Bradley Walden is not only just a vocalist, but a performer? This man puts certain ex-Emarosa singers to shame. And even if I didn’t have such ill feelings toward that person, I would still make the same declaration.

Here’s a little video collage, and in true Erin fashion, I can never stick to one orientation. Landscape! Portrait! Landscape! My future as a videographer is grim.

And here is the current touring guitarist being carried through the crowd on Bradley’s back. Because these are things that Bradley does. I love that he spends more time in the crowd, surrounded by fans and people who may have never heard of Emarosa before but are now definitely fans because how can you stand there and not get swept up in the frenetic energy and hysteric excitement!? Even Henry SMILES while watching them. And believe me, that never used to be the case when someone else was fronting the band. (No offense to the rest of Emarosa! Henry just couldn’t see past the disgust he felt for that guy.)

But the highlight of the night was when Bradley spotted Chooch from the stage. He pointed at him and waved in the middle of a song and Chooch’s face was going to split in half from grinning so hard. And when Bradley jumped off the stage right after, I didn’t think anything of it, figured he was just going to bring back the “house show” feel again, except that he kept pushing through the crowd until he was standing right next to the boxed in area where we were, and the next thing I knew, he was telling Henry to put Chooch on his shoulders, and then this happened:

WHAAAAAAT. Chooch was on a fucking high, man. Right after, some girl came over and was like, “Hey buddy! Is this your first show?” Chooch told her no, and she was like, “That’s awesome! You’ve got amazing parents!” and I was like YEAH HE DOES!! Don’t you forget that, sonny boy.

Fuck, I love you, Emarosa. They played a new song too and now I am even more stoked for the new record, hurry!!

Next was Being As An Ocean. I loved them but Chooch was like “Eh” because he saw who he came to see and nothing was going to top that. I’m sure his mind was still reeling; how do you focus after something that monumental happens to you at a show!?

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Chooch did cheer though when the screamer got up on their soapbox and started ranting about not wanting a racist running the country. I love when bands use their voices to make a difference.

Right after their set, we went to the merch area to get some new Emarosa shirts. While I was trying to decide what to get, someone came up behind me and put their hands over my eyes. My STRANGER DANGER alarm went off immediately because I DON’T KNOW ANYONE IN LANCASTER. Except for the Dutch Haven people….

But it was Bradley! OMG I just love him. I told him we had something for him and he said that now would be a good time to do that thing because he had to give a vocal lesson during Silverstein’s set and honestly, Chooch wasn’t going to last any longer and had already expressed no desire to stay for their set (UGH CHOOCH). And honestly, we were only there for Emarosa anyway!

So Bradley followed us to our car and while he and Henry talked casually, I was like, in my head, going “OMGOMGOMG DON’T BE AN IDIOT, ERIN” and somehow I found the restraint to speak to him like an actual person. Henry told me later that I was “getting better” at it.  I remembered that he liked Carly Rae Jepsen so I told him that Chooch and I had just seen her and then we gushed about how amazing and perfect she is and I yelled, “SHE MAKES ME WANT TO ROLLER SKATE!” and it was in my normal “I’m talking to an actual friend” voice so thank you, CRJ, for allowing my real personality to finally come out in front of someone in a band! THAT NEVER HAPPENS. BECAUSE I AM 16 AND FOREVER STARSTRUCK.

And you guys, he was genuinely stoked over the Easter basket.

“It’s for the whole band,” I said.

“No it’s not. This is just mine. I’m not sharing with them,” he joked as he held it close to his chest. He went to put it in their van, which Henry had conveniently parked two spaces away from, and then mimicked Chooch by spinning in circles on his way back over to us. We continued to chat with him on that empty sidewalk in Lancaster until he finally had to say goodbye and go give his vocal lesson (which I still want Chooch to do but he’s too shy!). Before we left, he told me to get in touch with him before the Pittsburgh Warped Tour date and he’d put us on the list and I was like, “OMFG RLY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?” because the fan girl can only be sedated for so long. I didn’t make him this basket because I expected anything in return, I made it because that band, especially now that he’s in it, means so much to me and Chooch. I just wanted to give them something to show them how much we appreciate their music.

It is just really gratifying to have stuck by a band’s side for all of these years and then be rewarded with such beauty. It’s not really a secret that I have been going through some majorly traumatic shit this week, and I have been listening to their Versus record almost exclusively because it is all I have to soothe the hurt right now. If you have the chance to go see them, or even just a moment to check them out on Spotify if you’ve never heard of them, please do it. Emarosa for fucking ever.

On Friday, we went to the Mr. Smalls Theatre for Carly Rae Jepsen’s Gimmie Love tour. So First, when we got in line and waited, mommy complained it was freezing. She had a coat on and I had a T-Shirt on, I didn’t complain. When it was finally 7:30, the doors opened and we got to go in.  The first band was Fairground Saints. They played “Love Yourself” by Justin Bieber. They’re kind of country singers. They do covers mostly. But the songs they did at the concert was mostly their songs.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BDI6_9HlHJK/?taken-by=butt_jam

My Instagram is butt_jam, if you didn’t already know. You would see this video on my Instagram. It’s a video of them singing “Love Yourself” by JB. I also have many more videos on Instagram.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BDI-0jYlHBt/?taken-by=butt_jam

Such as this one: Carly Rae singing “Run Away With Me”. It was epic and could cause seizure, so warning if you are able to get seizures by strobe light don’t watch. 8-) While she was playing, I had many problems, such as: Being claustrophobic was one. This guy behind me had so much room but he chose to push me into the stage, I had about a foot of room. I threw up, because I chewed too much gum. My phone was at 1% and I couldn’t record anything or else my phone would die. There was a knot in my shoe and it bothered me. I hate everything!

At the end of the concert, we went to the merch table and I got a record, mommy got a shirt. We left and outside there was a line at the side of Carly’s tour bus. We waited and waited. During our wait we met a lot of gay guys.  This one guy was so nice he showed mommy a picture of his grandkids. I tried to get the knot out of my shoe and it worked, all of a sudden I felt better.

When Carly came out of her tour bus, nobody screamed. I told mommy she came out, but she said everyone would’ve screamed. But I said people were taking pictures. She said they were probably taking pictures of each other. Then mommy heard Carly’s vice and got excited. We got up to the front and I got my record signed and got a picture. Mommy almost cried and fainted but I was calm. Carly was really nice. Daddy parked righted in front of her tour bus so when we got our picture, we walked to the car and left.

As you can see, I had a lot of fun. The concert was good, Carly has a good voice, and Fairground Saints is very good as well.

Apparently, Chooch’s singing skills are sufficient enough to get him an invitation to the All City Chorus. There’s a handful of rehearsals that take place Saturday mornings at a school on the North Side, culminating in some big hoedown at the August Wilson Center in May.

Chooch said he wanted to do it, so I did the parental thing and signed the permission slip, stuck the schedule to the fridge with a magnet, and then actually managed to remember the first rehearsal was this past Saturday.

I’m getting really good at this mom thing. I’m almost as good of a mom as Henry!

We arrived at the school early, thanks to my inability to ever be late in life, and thus began a 2 and a half hour slowdive into the seedy underbelly of the juvenile choral industry. Originally, Henry and I were going to sneak away after the first few minutes (that sounds way more scandalous than it would have been), but then I found myself DEEP IN IT. My disdain for other children is oftentimes similar to the pain of a toothache — if I ignore it, I forget it’s there. YET I’LL SIT HERE AND PRACTICALLY SWORD-FIGHT IT WITH A TOOTHPICK because I’m a fucking sadomasochist.

So I began to seek out kids to hate. I scanned the middle section of the auditorium, looking for the kids that were prone to making my blood boil. Luckily, there was an entire half of a row of them right across from me.

Some broad was passing out folders to all of the kids who didn’t bring one (um, mine being one of them because nowhere did it say PARENTS SEND YOUR CHILD WITH A FOLDER). Everyone who needed one raised their hand and then she counted off how many each row needed and handed them to the first person in each row.

The row that I was fixating on had about 5 kids on the end closer to me, a bunch of empty seats, and then three more kids on the end. One of those three kids had their hand up, and Broad told the kids closest to our end to pass the extra folder down  to the girl in need, but as soon as Broad walked away, one of the kids lazily handed the folder off to some kid in front of him. SOME KID WHO DIDN’T EVEN NEED A FOLDER.

I was all up-in-arms over this.

Henry thought I was White Knighting the girl and mumbled, “Don’t worry about the other kids. Our kid got a folder and that’s all  that matters.

”

I’m not WORRIED about other kids. I just DISLIKE kids and hate missing an opportunity to start shit. And I hate INJUSTICE!!!!

I wanted to tattle so badly, but Henry advised against that.

Still, I had my eyes on that kid from then on. He done motherfucking marked himself.

“He’s not even singing!” I hoarsely whispered later, and Henry shot me the LET IT GO eyes.

The rest of the class was pretty boring. The instructor, some short dude who is apparently my age but looks way older took a lot of time out to teach this band of Yinzer rabblerousers how to properly enunciate things, and I found myself quietly following along in my seat. That was fun but I promise you I went right back to my lazy enunciating ways.

“I don’t know how people have the patience to teach kids. I would have quit  by now,” I spat sourly.

“Pfft. You wouldn’t have even shown up,” Henry said. TOUCHÉ MOTHERFUCKER.

The definite highlight for me was when Mr. Instructor lost his shit in a very calm, calculated manner and said, “You know what I think is the rudest thing ever? When I’m trying to teach and a bunch of kids are talking over top of me.” YEAH BOY. PUT THOSE LITTLE DICKS ON BLAST!

So that actually ended up being a pretty entertaining time-suck. The instructor said that the song they’ll be singing with all of the older kids at the recital is going to be We Are the World, and that fucking song has been stuck in my head all week without them even practicing it.

Everything about Sunday screamed, “IT’S SPRINGTIME, EVERYBODY! SPRING CAME EARLY! DUST OFF THOSE BOOTY SHORTS!” (Or maybe that was just Henry screaming that.) The sky looked like it was colored by the purest blue Crayola crayon and the sun was straight out of a cartoon. It was warm enough to open the sunroof on my car, even.

And now, at the time of this writing, it’s 30-something degrees out with a layer of snow on the ground. Weather is so weird.

Henry had shit to do around the house, and nothing assures that the shit will get done more than me leaving him alone. You know I really wanted him to work on the kitchen (we’re* just doing minor cosmetic shit to it, like painting) when I tell Chooch that yes, we will go geocaching.

*(Lol, “we’re.” All I’ve done so far is pick out the paint!)

Honestly, I can’t find enough hateful words to properly illustrate how much I hate geocaching. But my damn kid loves it, so I thought maybe it could be a nice Mommy-Son day.

Nope.

Even when it’s at one of my favorite cemeteries?

Still nope.

I just hate it. The clues were for the birds. I slipped down a hill. I yelled a lot of things that probably left a lasting blemish on Chooch’s childhood.

After about 30 minutes of digging around the same tint area, I threw my arms up in the air and cried, “FUCK IT, I’M DONE.” And Chooch was like, “You have like no patience, OMG” and I said, “Let’s go for a walk around the cemetery” and he said, “Ow, but my legs are so tired. Walking is terrible” and I said, “Then we’ll get ice cream after” and he said “Fine.”

I should be a playwright.

One of my biggest downfalls is that I don’t spend enough time with Chooch, just the two of us. It’s mostly because I like that when Henry is with us, I won’t have to worry about anything. Or, you know, parent. So I’m trying to change that. I mean, we’ve been fine at the hockey games and we’ve managed to survive two concerts together without Henry’s supervision, so what’s a little Sunday stroll, right?

Except that I wasn’t paying attention when we left the cemetery and I ended up missing a turn or something and I knew where I was, but couldn’t think fast enough about how to get back on track. My mind always works against  me when it comes to directions. I have been to Homewood Cemetery a million zillion  times and even know at least 4 different ways to get there, but something broke down in my head when we left last Sunday, probably because Chooch was talking. Anyway, we ended up near Oh Yeah!, so it felt like kismet. We were originally just going to get ice cream in Brookline, but now a wrong turn put us right in the vicinity of one of our favorite ice cream places!

I was so fucking proud of myself!

Look what I did!!

Except it’s not there anymore. There Facebook page is rife with drama. There was some kind of scandal? I don’t know. But that place never served me a bad cone, and I had some pretty weird add-in combinations there.

So then we were lost again and I kept trying to make a left turn against traffic and that was stressing me out, while Chooch was looking up other ice cream places on Yelp and I snapped, “WE’LL JUST EAT ICE CREAM AT HOME BECAUSE FUCK THIS SHIT!” And he was all, in his best grown-up voice, “Would you just calm the hell down?” And I was like, “Son, that’s good advice. I will try to calm down.” And so he directed me to the Scoops that it’s in Bloomfield, the sister shop to the one down the street from us where we were originally going to go, and I was miraculously able to get a parking spot on the street and everything seemed to be going my way, until we got inside the super tiny shop and there was a group of 5 assholes standing there, taking up valuable real estate while eating their ice cream, and they stared at us while we looked at our choices. Meanwhile, some old broad in front of us ordered a large freeze, and did you know those things take like 10 MINUTES TO MAKE?! So we just stood there, while these assholes licked their cones and bore holes into us with their judgmental eyes, the old lady waited for her freeze, and a group of 4 young hooligans came in and tried to cut in front of us.

It was a really stressful experience. I  think Chooch felt pressured too, because when it was his turn to order, he couldn’t blurt it out fast enough. I paid for our cones and whisked Chooch out of the shop, where we ate our ice cream under the peace and wide-open space of the great outdoors. I couldn’t believe those assholes were standing in there like that. They weren’t waiting for anyone! They were just quietly eating their ice cream and stealing precious oxygen from the rest of us who hadn’t ordered yet. Way too many people for that tiny shop.

Ugh.

People.

I can’t believe I wasted so much time writing about this. I guess I was more mad than I thought, since it’s 6 days later and I’m actually rage-biting my lower lip right now.

I think I might need to take up kick-boxing again.

Chooch was adamant on having “Let’s Go Pens” sprinkles on his Moosetracks.

I yelled, “NO ICE CREAM IN MY CAR” so we casually strolled around Bloomfield until our cones were sufficiently masticated. We walked past many of the tree beds that my Law Firm crew helped mulch last year and I was sad, yet not surprised, to see that our hard work had since unraveled, and all the spots were covered with weeds and cigarette butts once again.

Aside from the geocaching, the getting lost, and the idiots breathing my air inside of Scoops, I had a nice afternoon with Chooch. He must have had a nice time too, because a little while after we came home, I found him in his room folding his clothes! NO ONE TOLD HIM TO DO THAT! In fact, no one has ever taught him to do that, either. He said he learned by watching the employees at Target and Kohls. Maybe I should try that since my version of “folding clothes” is “rolling them up and punching them into the drawer.”

And this is the end of my Sunday afternoon recap. Look for the stage version coming soon to a Walmart loading dock near you.

One of my Somnambulant customers works at the Warhol Museum. She had me make a custom painting for her for Valentine’s Day, and as a sweet little perk, she put me on the list at the door, so Chooch, Henry and I got to spend a leisurely afternoon eyeballing some arts on Saturday. It was cold and snowy that day so having something fun to do indoors was welcome. I hate staying home during winter weekends.

I was kind of nervous at first, because the last time I was there was three years ago and I don’t want to say that Chooch was a dick, but he was definitely….a dick. I mean, a six-year-old in a multi-floored museum probably is a bad idea no matter who the kid is.

Also, add Corey to the mix and Chooch was pretty high-energy. And it wasn’t even that he was bad and like, getting yelled at by the museum police or anything. But he rushed us through because, you know, he was six.

But this time was awesome! We made it through every floor and he was genuinely interested in things, especially Male Genital Diagram.

“The names on these things are so weird,” he museum-whispered to me and we started cracking up while pointing at butts.

Highlights for me are definitely:

• Watching Henry walked briskly past every single piece of art because art is garbage to him. “Dogs Playing Poker” or GTFO, right Henry!?
• Chooch’s extreme discomfort on the audio-visual floor, which featured a black and white 14mm film that had something to do with a sensual haircut. And then what I referred to as the Velvet Underground Den, a room hidden behind a heavy black curtain with seats in the middle and floor-to-ceiling heavily-psychedelic images projected on every wall while Velvet Underground pulsated us back to the 60s. Chooch was like, “NO THIS IS NOT FOR ME” while I was like, “THIS WHAT OUR NEXT GAME NIGHT SHOULD BE LIKE!”
• The Mr. Chow exhibit. Yes, the famous restaurateur! In addition to portraits of him painted by his famous friends (such as Keith Haring and Basquiat), Mr. Chow’s own pieces are currently on display, and I’ll tell you, refuse and coagulated eggs never felt more inspiring. Chooch and I were in awe, pointing out the various garbage we were able to discern among the paint, while Henry frowned and waited for us by the steps. I felt so motivated to go home and paint shit after that!
• In one of the rooms, there was a box of costumes which patrons were encouraged to try on. This was definitely Chooch’s jam. We walked on him modeling a black garment, similar to a witch’s robe I guess, and with a very stern visage, he slowly opened the robe to veal a pink tutu beneath it. The serious face melted into his signature “Derp” and he slowly shook his hips accordingly. Of course there was an audience for this.
• Getting to chat with my customer, Kris! She’s stuck with Somnambulant from the beginning, through all of the hiatuses and changes. She’s just a really cool broad. I painted her and her British boyfriend as teabags, the triangular kinds, because he loves tea. Her tag is an American flag and his is the Union Jack. It was so ridiculous, but really fun to paint!

The only lowlight was that all these cool-looking people were like, “I LIKE YOUR SHIRT!” to Chooch and for once, no one said anything about my stupid purse. Chooch was so smug about this.

Before we left, he got to try his hand at screen-printing. One guess what he chose to screenprint….

Yep.

Chooch and I went geocaching last weekend and we are now, together, co-blogging about it. I’m not writing this with my hyperbolic plume either. This experience was particularly blood-boiling, and I have an extremely low boiling point to begin with.

Short-fused. 

Tightly-wound.

Hot-headed.

I’m all of these things. 

Hey its yo boy Chooch, I’m gonna tell you a little things about Geocaching. K, First things first, I learned about Geocaching in school in a book. Geocaching is basically a High-Tech Treasure Hunt Game where you get the app or go on a computer and look for a Gray, Blue, Orange, Light Green, or Dark Green dot and you click on it. It will tell you what the coords are and you just go look for it.

Erin here: I thought he learned about it from YouTube, so I am currently pleasantly surprised.

So I thought there wasn’t much to do, I thought me and mommy could go Geocaching. Daddy didn’t think it would go well, but I did. He said we would kill each other cause’ we’re so competitive. So we went on a Saturday and went to South Park. Because usually there is a lot of Geocaches in the park. As soon as we got there mommy flipped out. Two minutes in she just wanted to go home. I was in the wrong area the whole time.

Erin here: Geocaching with Chooch is terrible because he thinks he knows but HE DOES NOT KNOW. He took us to some area that had an older man like, DIGGING something or someone in the woods and we had to walk near him. That was incredibly unpleasant. Chooch was putzing around with the app and I kept screaming, “AREN’T THERE COORDINATES?! HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHERE TO LOOK?!?!” and we were literally just standing there, walking in tiny circles, staring at the ground and toeing rocks. Chooch isn’t wrong — two minutes in, I completely flipped my lid and screamed (and I mean BELLOWED), “This is fucking ridiculous! I am going THE FUCK HOME!” Volaries of birds burst out of a nearby tree. The man with the shovel was like “…the fuck is that lady’s problem?” and according to Chooch, everybody hated me when this happened.

“Everybody.”

We were in the fucking park in January! There were not many people around!

Except for a biker who said hello to me RIGHT AFTER MY OUTBURST and because I’m a fucking psychopath, I switched on Sweet Erin and jovially bid him a fine afternoon in the fakest fucking baby voice I could muster.

OH, SUCH DEMURE.

Back to Unicorn Chooch: After looking for like… 7 mins or so I was just looking through rocks, and I saw some weird looking rock. I felt the bottom and it was flat. I turned it over and it was a sliding rock cache. I found the cache. We put some inappropriate mommy cards* in there. I mean like the cards she makes. I was so happy. But… I forgot to bring a pen to sign it. So I made mummy go check the car for a pen. No luck.

Me again: When I went to the car, some dumb elderly couple cheerfully said hello to me, as they were getting their idiot bikes out of their minivan. I said, “HI-YEEEEE!” in return and they kind of stepped back a little because I guess I sounded like I was being an asshole. BECAUSE I WAS.

*And he’s talking about my Totally Awesome Blog Cards, thanks!

I just put a card in and went on the app and said I found it. I wrote “Took forever I thought me and my mom would kill each other! My god”

So then mommy wanted to go home but I told her there’s one 0.3 miles away. We walked down a muddy trail next to a golf course. There was a tree tipped over so it was like a tunnel. I wasn’t going off trail I was totes on trail. We got to some torn down outhouse because I thought it was right there but nope. Farther down by a log. I was getting stabbed in the leg by tons of thorns almost dying. Then I tried to climb over a log but fell. I could’ve died. Mummy couldn’t see because she was in some crack. Lol sounds weird.

Me, with anguish: Hello, it was a GORGE and I was trapped in it, OK?

Erin’s turn: Chooch had us going totally off-trail and it was getting late in the afternoon. I felt like I was on some Blair Witch expedition and bitch, I wasn’t dying for no fucking Tupperware container in the woods. And then we get to these decrepit outhouse ruins and I thought for sure we were going to perish. I kept having future visions of tumbling into that hole and getting dragged down into Hell. Because that would be my luck.

So Henry and I used to occasionally go letterboxing back in the day, which was like the pioneer version of geocaching in that it didn’t give you GPS coordinates and you had to rely on good old-fashioned directions to find your booty. Like, turn right by the crushed Michelobe Lite can. The problem with this though is that most of the time, that fucking beer can wasn’t there anymore, you know? However, with this particular cache we were looking for, it said that it was near “an old source of water.” For some reason, Chooch felt that this meant “look for an ancient outhouse and try not to get murdered.”

Spoiler alert: it was not anywhere near the outhouse. Chooch fucking left me there and started scaling some mountain to get back to the trail that we had long-since abandoned and here’s something to add to the Erin Fact Book: I tend to get crippled with fear anytime I’m faced with walking down a steep hill. So it took a good five minutes of me standing millions of yards away from Chooch, screaming, “I CAN’T DO IT! I’M SCARED! WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME!?” before I finally ran at full speed down the hill and then let momentum carry me up the other side of the “crack” as Chooch effectively called it.

I was rewarded by finding the stupid cache literally as soon as I joined Chooch on the other side. I stubbornly spat, “The clue said that it’s by an old source of water and I don’t see AN OLD SOURCE OF WATER” and then a split second later, I said, “Oh, right there” and pointed to a rusty water pump a few feet away.

And let me tell you, all of my homicidal rage completely evaporated and I was suddenly a completely different broad, jumping up and down and screaming, “Yay geocaching!”

So Chooch, back from playing GTA-V: We opened up the cache and put a card in. I took tw bouncy balls and a picture of a cat. I replaced it with the card.

We saw there was a bridge on the way back to the car we completely missed. I walked up really easily but on the way back down mommy cried for help and I was so disappointed in her. I thought she could do it until I told just to jump and she whined even more. Eventually like 24hours later she jumped.

Erin, Terrified of Heights: I WAS HIGH UP THERE, OK!? And I didn’t jump down. I cautiously and slowly scooted down. Anyway, it’s amazing how much my attitude changed after winning at geocaching. I practically skipped the whole way back to the car with a crown of blue birds swirling around my dome. Also, I was completely shocked at how calm and patient Chooch was during our trying times. He never gave up! So there’s one quality he didn’t get from me: the endurance of a champion quitter.

Bootiful horse ass! So cute with the tail and riders! I was like neigh and they were like moo! Then I just started singing The Killers.

That was a fun day maybe we can do it again!

Me: Probably not. Except for right now, since this was how I got Chooch to write on here. Fuck.

Chooch and I decided to be such cool, very West Elm by posting a tour of his room, you know, like all the trendy bloggers do. Haha. So please, step inside the tiny box we generously call “Chooch’s bedroom,” WON’T YOU?

Freak.

A video posted by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin) on Jan 5, 2016 at 4:49pm PST

I am Riley, as you may know as The Internet Kid, because I am beautiful. Here is my room. Yeah. Sure.

This lamp is a lamp that my “ma-ma” got from the attic.

(Ed.note: I got it from some creepy lady at the flea market.)

It’s in the third corner on top of my bookshelf and it’s cree-PEE.

This is me reading a book that I just took out from my bookshelf because “ma-MA” told me to.

This is my tv I got for Christmas. I’m watching Shane Dawson because I like his videos. He swears but…I don’t care. He does challenges and taste tests.

This is me playing the piano because I like piano and…uh. I was playing nothing on it because it wasn’t plugged in.

This is me holding a lightsaber and pointing at my cat pictures made by Chuck Hodi. They all have odd eyes.

Um this is some pictureframe I made when I was in kindergarten. I’m so young and they made me do it and it’s all Catholic. I don’t know what’s Catholic about the hippo. This is a picture

This is a picture of an eyeball and peppermint bush forest. Because I was obsessed with eyeballs when I was a baby.  I got that cat thing at goodwill.

This is Goodnight Mommy, I saw it in September. It’s a horror movie. You might have already read the blog post I wrote about it. So maybe go check it out after this obviously.

As you can see, this is my gallery wall where I have seven pictures. My favorite one is not the demon on the wall (Ed.note that’s what he calls the portrait I did of him lol), but the catstronaut one. It came from Riot Fest 2015 when ma-MA and pa-PA went.

This me doing my beautiful face, as always. Ma-MA likes it, DONT YOU.

THIS IS MY SUCCULENTS! I wanted the cactus because it was fluffy. And I also wanted the other non-sharp cactus because it was cute and it has a cute little flower. (Ed.note: he’s reciting this in the dumbest voice, I hate my life. Lawl j/k I love it.)

Things on a windowsill.

This Is me, my beautiful self, hanging from my ladder with some of my beautiful Never Shout Never gear on.

This is RileCena signing off! Peace out!
Don’t jump in front of trains!

Mouth lined with crumbs? Check.

Later that night, my dad asked if Chooch’s neck tattoo was real. Yes, I had a guy I met in prison come over and do it at the house, dad.

Chooch is down to one good pair of jeans because he trashes them so quickly. This is not that pair.

That pair was home in a laundry basket, caked with mud.

Yes, we fought about this on Christmas. You know how tightly-wound I get when it comes to my dumb pictures!

We had a fight about his hair, too.

We all felt this way.

Throwback to 2011.

Practicing his freestyle.

Who knows how many more years Chooch is going to exasperatedly give me. Gotta milk the “Because I’m your mom and it’s all I want for Xmas!” canned response as much as I can

   
It occurred to me yesterday as we were in the middle of eating that this was the 10th Cemetery Xmas Picnic for us! It started in 2005, when I was pregnant with Chooch and my family was being a bag of dicks and not speaking to me. Henry and I had nowhere else to go for Xmas so I yelled LET’S JUST EAT WITH DEAD PEOPLE THEN since no one living gave a shit about us.

So that’s what we did. 

I specifically remember buying Moonpies at CoGos on the way. Really fucking festive. 

And even when we do have a place to go on Xmas, we always hit up the good old cem first. It’s definitely been met with a lot of weird reactions over the years, but it’s our norm, you know? I mean, we’re just eating sandwiches and potato salad, not roasting babies over open graves and drinking goats blood. 

Just so you know. 

We keep it clean. 

 This year, we were able to sit for more than 5 minutes without the threat of hemorrhoids or frost bite!  Except it started to drizzle a little bit. 
    
It’s funny how traditions start. I wonder if Chooch will continue it when he has his own family…

 Sorry, Chooch’s Future Wife. 
Lol. 

Today, Chooch found a temporary tattoo and was just about to put it somewhere dumb, like his arm, when I stopped him and screamed, “NO PUT IT ON YOUR NECK!” Neck tattoos are my favorites. I have been trying for fourteen years to trick Henry into getting something awesome on his neck, but he won’t budge. (Hands are my second choice, but he won’t go for that, no; no can do.) Because I’m Chooch’s “bae lord,” he happily adhered a deformed monkey to the side of his neck.

(Side note: He has now taken to calling Henry “Papa Bae,” and it is slowly killing Henry.)

Anyway, Chooch looks hardcore as fuck now! We went outside and took some pictures because Henry was in the kitchen baking some kind of healthy version of snickerdoodles, i.e. bland non-cookies, and he’s mean to us when he bakes.

It was cold out there today.

Meanwhile, Blake gave Chooch his guitar, so he is currently YouTubing tutorials and just seeing that beautiful guitar in his lap is making my vision even more obscured than usual by all of the hearts. If this kid doesn’t grow up to be in a band, then I’m doing it all wrong.

Chooch + Doll 4L.

And on that note:

Gayle forgot my birthday. Because I’m Erin Rachelle Kelly, I basically turned this into a huge scandal at work and made sure everyone* knew that Gayle was horrible and generally the worst.

*(OK, like 4 people. I’m pretty sure most everyone else tunes me out. I know I would if I could.)

Gayle’s self-appointed penance was to gift me with an unbirthday present on the 30th of every month, starting last August.  Wendy and Henry were absolutely appalled that I would let Gayle lavish me with gifts for no reason.

NO REASON?! Oh there’s reason.  Each gift is a ring on the ladder back up to my good graces.

Don’t worry, everyone on Team Erin Is Spoiled – Gayle is only spending a buck or two on each unbirthday gift; but I gotta tell you—she’s been doing a great job. I’ve loved all of my unbirthday gifts, but there has been one so far that really caused a commotion at work due to the fact that it’s CREEPY AND JARRING AS FUCK:

Gayle found this doll at a flea market and promptly deaded it up. A lot of my co-workers were alarmed by this, but I knew that it was going to get along just fine in my house. Because before I even brought it home, I knew that it was going to help me harass the fuck out of my kid.

I mean, it’s not that Chooch is a crybaby, per se, but does get scared pretty easily. So that night, I waited for Chooch to fall asleep and then I placed Doll on his pillow so that when he woke up, GOOD MORNING HERE’S DOLL, STRAIGHT OUTTA THE COAL MINE.

He wasn’t pleased with me at all, and promptly delivered Doll back to my room. And that’s how the game started. We just keep hiding it in each others’ room, and sometimes Henry even gets involved and hides Doll in places I can’t reach, and then Chooch gets all angry and starts screaming me when he wakes up and sees Doll staring down at him from the corner of his ceiling and I’m just like, “WHY DO YOU ALWAYS THINK IT’S ME!? DADDY DOES SHIT TOO” and then Chooch just scoffs and says, “Yeah, like Daddy knows how to have fun.”

I hid Doll halfway under his bed one day when he was downstairs and then posted this picture on Chooch’s Instagram:

I love my BaByDoLl!!!!

A photo posted by Riley (@butt_jam) on Dec 6, 2015 at 7:26am PST

He was SO ANGRY. Fuck, it feels good to be a parent sometimes.

One night last week, Chooch found Doll in his room but left her on his dresser. Before he had a chance to hide her in my room, I snatched her and stuffed her inside his backpack. Later that night, he went upstairs and noticed that Doll was gone. First, he was pissed because it was his turn to hide Doll, but then that was quickly replaced with Fear when he couldn’t find Doll as quickly as he had previously.

We were sitting together on the couch that night; he was making me watch Christmas with the Cranks on Netflix and it was starting to get pretty late. As in: Bedtime late. Every couple of minutes, he would say, “No seriously, tell me where you put Doll.” And I would just ignore him because I was too busy CRYING because that idiotic movie had some supposedly “feel good” moments and I kept yelling, “THIS IS WHY I HATE XMAS MOVIES, IDIOT!”

So then because I was crying, Chooch started to cry. That’s how we are, we feed off each others’ tears. I’m almost positive that he was faking it at first. He is so fucking good at fake-crying and I have no idea where he gets that because it’s certainly not from his mom whose family always told her that she should get a role on Days of Our Lives because she could turn on the tears with all the best sociopaths. So I’m crying because of Christmas movies, and he’s crying for fun, but then suddenly he’s CLUTCHING MY ARM and earnestly begging me to tell him where Doll is. There was panic in his eyes. I momentarily felt sorry for him and considered telling him, but no. This was fun.

A little psychological torture never hurt anyone.

(That’s probably inaccurate.)

I guess it was because it was almost time for him to go to bed and the thought that Doll was out there somewhere was seriously making him crack.

He stormed off up the steps and I could hear him slamming drawers and gurgling on his tears. And then, as he came tearing back down the steps, I jumped out and scared him. Internet, if there had been a sharp object within arms reach of him, I probably wouldn’t be typing this right now, as I lay in a hole, surrounded by that fresh new-coffin scent.

Which, you know, I wouldn’t able to smell on account of BEING DEAD.

My original end-game for Doll In Backpack was that he would get to school and find her when he was putting shit in his locker, and then he would even more shocked and startled because school would be the last place he’s expect Doll to pop up. But after watching him have what appeared to be some type of emotional breakdown, I was afraid that this would totally push him over the edge and then I would be getting a phone call from the school and CPS.

And I really loathe phone calls.

So instead,  I waited until morning and coaxed him into opening his backpack before he left the house. He was looking for his pencil case anyway, and I kept saying, “HMMM MAYBE CHECK YOUR BACKPACK” and he was like, “No, I checked  yesterday and it wasn’t there.”

“Well, check again. I think Daddy put the pencil case in there,” I said in the strained tone of a person hiding a thing.

So Chooch unzipped one of the front pouches.

“No. Like, look in the main part,” I stressed again.

“I know it’s not in there because I already checked last night!” he said stubbornly and I was about to just rip the fucking thing open myself, but then he finally opened it himself and was SO FUCKING PISSED when his fingers closed around Doll’s burnt locks. I actually have a video of his discovery but god forbid I post it here since he SWEARS and my child is supposed to be PERFECT since I’m a mom who blogs.

Doll has been laying low for the last week because I have several plans for her on the horizon, and you know what fortune cookies and people who are into idioms say: Out of sight, out of mind.

This is more fun than when he was three and I had an app that would put ghosts in pictures, so he was convinced that a little Victorian ghost girl was haunting him because he just happened to be IN EVERY PICTURE I took of him, and only him.

Thank you, Gayle! This is truly the gift that keeps on giving.

Barb gave us tickets to go to the Hockey Game! We win every time I go to the game. We won 4-3! I always look for ICEBURGH because he is beautiful! Mommy told me Barb has “FEELINGS” for #9 “Pascal Dupuis”. I was like what do you mean “FEELINGS”?

! Then that’s when I figured she meant Dupuis was Barb’s BAE!

Picture of us WINNNING!!!!! YAYAYAY thanks Barb for giving us tickets for a game we won in!

Picture mommy took of me standing in front of Iceburgh! Couldnt get next to him so just took that picture.

Then when the game ended I wanted to take a picture with Iceburgh, but some lady took one first, SHE TOOK 2, TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Than another dude wanted a picture. So he asked mommy to take it, while she did that I tried to sneak over to get beside him. But apparently the way I snuck through was a PRIVATE Area. Some usher yelled at me and said I wasn’t allowed to be there.

But the game ended what would it matter? So then I had to go all the way around. SO I ended up not getting a picture with him except for the one at the end!

Mommy said that Iceburgh is a dick but I won’t say that because I still love him!

On Monday, we went to Mr. Smalls. It was my first time there and we went to see Emarosa. But the main band was Bless The Fall, I didn’t stay for that. When we were in line and went up the stairs, Bradley (THE SINGER OF EMAROSA) waved at me smiling and I waved back. At Warped Tour I waited in line to meet him and I told him that he was better than Jonny and he agreed so that is probably how he remembers me.

When we got in there was a guy who gave out paper wrist bands but he drew a smiley face on my hand because I was kid and I wasn’t allowed to drink alcohol.

When I walked in to the stage area I turned around and I saw the eighth grader who had a crush on me in 1st grade. She had her friend with her, and their boyfriends.  I felt kind of shy because I hadn’t seen her in a while. When Emarosa came on Me and my mom moved up to the front so I could see better.

I liked Emarosa my whole life because my mom has listened to them since I was a baby.

Bradley is so nice because when Emarosa was over and me and daddy were leaving he came right over to me and gave me a hug. (:   He’s not a drugatic like Jonny Craig.

He also gave the other fans who wanted a hug, a hug. Then when I asked him to sign my shirt he said “Allrighttt I’ll sign your shirt.” :P    When me and daddy went to leave (mommy stayed for the rest of the show by herself) the whole band was outside packing everything back up. We left to eat and came back hoping they would still be here so I can get a picture with the whole band. We went to Hardees to eat. When we came back for the picture, Bradley came over to us and asked us what we wanted again. When I told him I wanted a picture with the whole band he went around looking for everyone. I also wanted them all to sign my shirt, I got that.

When we got everyone, daddy said “my phone is dying because SOMEONE’S been using it.” Then Bradley kindly gave him his phone to take the picture, and he texted it to daddy. I was so happy that this was happening. So I had the BEST NIGHT of my life. The picture with my shirt signatures is on my Instagram, so check it out. @butt_jam.

***

This is my favorite Emarosa song because it sounds better than Johnny and also its better the original version of Mad. Maybe you can check out more Emarosa songs!

Sewickley Haunted Church

We were going to 2 Haunted Houses on the day before Halloween. We were hungry so we stopped at Taco bell. There was a huge commotion going on. A mom and her kids were here. The kids were acting up so she was yelling at them IN THE MIDDLE of Taco Bell. They were dressed up and I’m guessing they were going to a Halloween Party. Then we ordered and sat down where we wanted to sit. It looked like there were 2 guys and a girl all dressed up like they were in a band. Mommy got excited, of course she did.

When we got to the first one, ITS THE TITLE. There were a couple mini games. It was PING PONG TOSS, Ring Toss, Tick Tac Toe, and a hockey game. I mostly played Ping Pong Toss, because I was good at it. Since I could make a shot from the other side of the room I was called savage by a about 12 yr old. No seriously he did. I tried Ring Toss but it was way too easy for me. I played PING PONG for about 30 minutes and It and I got really famous.

Mommy saw a guy dressed up as Jason and she said he was hot. She told me this today because I didn’t know. Also when we went in the actual haunted part they asked for our names and it was actually accurate because boys can be named Erin and girls can be named Riley. Yeah I said I was Erin and mommy said she was Riley. It was a carnival part. There was a huge Jack in the box and when it popped it hit mommy in the face and one of the guys touched her back on accident. There was a butcher part next and there were human body parts, not real ones, you freak!

It was really good, the HAUNTED HOUSE , not the flesh! Me and mommy went back in to say it was better than last year. Then they said we can come back for a Worship Concert. Me and mommy played it cool and as soon as we walked out the door we said WTF! ~.~

Haunted Expeditions

There is really nothing to write about because we weren’t noticed at all. The Spookers completely ignored us and we were really excited to go because it was awesome last year. But nope they changed areas so it was in a corn field. It was so %$#@*&! stupid this year. Last year there was no groups AND it was in a forest, and this year it had groups and it was out in the open so you could see what was going to happen and the group behind us kept catching up and we were invisible! OMG! We need to go to a better haunted house. Thank god we went to the Church one the same day because that made up.

There was 6 other people in our group that were in three so like friends of 3. They all became friends and when we went to the chainsaw part you could hear the f^&*$#@ chainsaw in the house so you knew what was going to happen. We got in there and the other people in our group were all standing there like “WHATRE WE GONNA DOOOO!?” like idiots. There was a curtain to exit right there and they were all blocking it. MOMMY ditched me and left me in the house with the ding dongs and idiots. And f$%^&*@ chainsaw smoke so I was dying in there. It was the end of the f%&^$#@ sh&$% a$$ haunted house for this year.

When we got in the car mommy and daddy were talking about how stupid it was. Then I said “Its like when you buy a Barbie doll and It comes with a hairbrush accessory. And you never use the hairbrush, COMPLETELY IGNORED!” then they laughed. Since me and mommy were so hungry and wanted dessert we stopped at Kings since it was on the way home. And daddy went to pee so I took mommy’ phone and took a picture of him peeing. So that was our awesome, epic/HORRIBLE day!

Over the weekend, I found this dumb picture of a boy at Goodwill and I decided to buy it and turn it into Chooch’s official 4th grade portrait, because even though I am always singing the I’M SO BUSY song, I somehow also have too much time on my hands. How is this possible, I don’t know.

So I started painting Chooch’s big head over top of the basic boy in the picture, and he was not pleased. He was also kind of in a bad mood that day but one thing about Chooch is that he strongly dislikes being teased. Originally, the only thing I added to the background was a picture of a cat, but then Chooch sat down and started blabbing to us about god knows what and Henry was like, “Jesus Christ, do you ever shut up?” so I felt inclined to add a wallpaper of blah blah blahs.

Now he was REALLY irritated with his portrait.

This was the best picture I could get. Something about it makes camera lenses revolt.

Then I made it his profile picture on Facebook and he was all, “I’m going to kill you!” but we all know he secretly love it. Especially when his frenemy Barb commented on it!

He groaned, “Ugh, what does BARB want….”

Here’s his actual fourth grade school picture. You should see the actual class photo — he’s like a Crayola factory explosion compared to the other kids.

In other news, Wendy is visiting the office with the baby and everyone rushed over to her but I was just like, “What? I’ve already seen that baby like four times because I’m an awesome friend.” So there.

Oh well. That’s all I’ve got for right now because tonight is the Emarosa show and I am honest-to-god trembling at my desk here because I’m so excited!

My stomach hurts!