We were going to make Trudy Dress-Up Time an event like last year, because nothing says Christmas tradition like drunkenly talking with friends about current events while hanging ornaments from a mannequin’s tit, but then I got SICK so Henry basically did it all himself. But let’s face it—it’s probably better that way. Especially when it comes to putting up lights. I don’t fuck with that peasant shit.

We never started putting up trees until Chooch was 2, so by then, my four original cats were already old enough to not really give a shit about it. We never had a single incident! At most, Marcy would sometimes lay under it. Last year, when we introduced Trudy as our official tree of the season, we were, for the first time ever, a pet-less household. Drew and Penelope are both a little over a year old now, but they still act like pernicious assholes, so I have been super worried about how they’d react.

I voiced my concern so Henry said he would strap Trudy to the wall if he had to.

“How are you going to do that?” I asked honestly, because no really how?

“ERIN, I CAN PRETTY MUCH DO ANYTHING!” he cried, giving me those crazy mountain man eyes he gets when I’ve given him one too many things to do in one day. lol forever.

Don’t worry. I kept a close eye on him to make sure he didn’t grab Trudy by the pussy. NOT ON MY WATCH, MOTHERFUCKER.

Trudy Twinkle Toes.

My only contribution was wrapping her with garland, which Henry yelled at me for because “LIGHTS ARE SUPPOSED TO GO ON FIRST, IDIOT.” Sorry, Father Christmas!

Chooch looks promising as an option for an auxiliary tree….

Thankfully, the cats were mostly blasé about the whole ordeal, save for several sniffs and curious peeks into the bins of decorations. But today was a brand new day, and it was like they were seeing it for the first time. However, most of their fascination lies with the tree skirt – Santa’s hat has a pom-pom on it and hoo-boy is it enticing. There’s been a lot of running and sliding into Trudy and bunny-kicking of Santa’s hat.

Trudy has a new wig for this season. Now she looks a bit more sophisticated and less like a candy cane floozy.

Whatever that means. I’m sick, remember.

Praying for a normal Christmas tree. Chooch hates Trudy. OH WELL, SUCKER. Stop trying to make me conform, tiny patriarchy!!

It goes without saying, but I am thankful everyday for these two guys: my baes, my ride-or-dies, my boo-thanks, my–*barf*. You get the picture.

Today more than ever though I’m reminded of how much they’ve made my life better. When you draw a shitty hand in the game of Family, make your own. Even though we might not be doing a traditional Thanksgiving dinner thing today, at least I don’t have to spend it alone.

Also, we’re watching the Gilmore Girls marathon on Up (some Christian channel that beeps out “damn” and “hell”) and it’s the episode where Lorelei is receiving mixed reactions to marrying Christopher because everyone in Stars Hollow is like “but….

Luke” and I said to Henry, “I feel like that’s what would happen to me if we broke up and I married someone else; everyone would revolt and hate me and my new husband.” And I shouldn’t have said that because now Henry is gloating.

Also pt. 2: Henry painted the wall above our fireplace mantel pink in preparation for finally hanging my Mouse Attack light!

Except that there is an issue with mounting it because there are bricks behind the plaster and other things I tuned out, and also now my friend Wonka is going to help us figure out how to get the lights to work because Henry only knows how to do electrical thing, not electronic, and evidently there is a difference.

I love Thanksgiving house makeovers!

The Mouse Attack sign:

Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving. Or, as I call it, Happy “Google search for restaurants that are open on Thanksgiving” Day!

I can’t remember the exact moment that Chooch’s costume lightbulb went on above his brainy head, but it was definitely fairly soon after Halloween 2015. He was going through a Smashing Pumpkins phase, and casually decided that he was going to be a bullet with butterfly wings for Halloween.

At first, I laughed really hard and gave it my Great Costume stamp of approval. Also, what a novel concept – knowing what he was going to be with ample time to construct the costume. Had this ever happened before?!

NO.

But then reality set in and I remembered that perhaps not many people would understand it, you know, since it’s not 1995/1996. So Henry and I tried to subtly change his mind, and really—how shitty of us. I’m glad that Chooch was committed to his idea and didn’t let us sway him.

Flash forward 8 months. It’s a week before Halloween and Henry still hasn’t started working on the bullet. I kept saying things like, “This isn’t going to be finished in time, is it?” to which his response was supposed to be, “OF COURSE IT WILL BE, ERIN!” and not, “I don’t know. Maybe not.”

Spoiler alert: Henry worked a miracle and got it done! At the last minute though, he scrapped the paper mache bullet tip he made because it looked too dildo-esque, and instead opted for a large balloon (the punching kind) which he spray-painted silver. It looked much better!

We waited until the day before to get the wings. We try to be as DIY as possible when it comes to costumes, but I was willing to splurge on the wings because I just wanted this to be done. So we went to Party City after Chooch’s piano lesson on Sunday.

SIDE STORY, unrelated to Halloween:

For as long as I can remember, I do this thing where I walk into a store or restaurant ahead of Henry and pull the door shut on him. It’s like my thing, and it pisses him off so much.

And our visit to Party City was no different. I walked in ahead of him and, without so much as a glance behind my shoulder, I shoved the door shut behind me. I mean full-force, as aggressively as possible, I gave that fucking door a Hulk slam.

I heard Henry say, “Erin!” but it sounded further away than it should have. So I slowly turned around and realized that there was a small woman behind me, looking totally stunned from having a GLASS DOOR SLAMMED SHUT ON HER. Fucking Henry had let her go ahead of him and then stood back to see how it would play out, what a motherfucker!

So then I was put in this terrible social situation where I had to profusely apologize to a stranger while trying to explain to her why that happened, how it’s just what I do, until I heard the words I was saying and realized I was making it so much worse.

SO MUCH WORSE.

Oh, Henry loved every moment of it.

I mean, it was bound to happen eventually.

Anyway, Chooch got his wings but not the pair I wanted him to get but whatever, DON’T LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER.

****

This year was Chooch’s last Halloween parade at school. I was kind of sad about it, but it isn’t how it was when I was a kid. The classroom parties aren’t shit because there are so many restrictions, and so many costumes are against school policy. So basically the parents gather around outside the school just to watch a 15 minute parade, where only some of the students are in costume because HALLOWEEN IS DYING, ISN’T IT?? Oh I just can’t stand it.

But, speaking of school policy, Chooch could 100% not dress up as a bullet at school. I mean, I didn’t need the rules and regulations paper that was sent home last week to remind me of that. So in my effort to find him an alternative costume that still involved his wings (they were $20 and I intended on getting as much use out of them as possible!), I found this lame social butterfly get-up, which I’m sure has been done to death at hipster Halloween parties, but it was a hit with the elementary set.

So easy! And I can say that because I threw a huge temper tantrum Sunday night and went to bed at 8:30 on purpose so that Henry had to print all of the social media icons out, LOL I win.

Chooch loved it! Especially when he got to rip the musically icon off his shirt afterward and give it to his crush. Ugh.

Meanwhile, this just served as yet another reminder that I will never fit in with other parents. 

Oh! AND I GOT TO SEE HOT GYM TEACHER. Totally worth rubbing elbows with basic moms. 

****

Later that evening, Henry came home from work and finally finished the damn bullet costume. I’m not exaggerating – it was 5 minutes to trick or treat o’clock and Henry was hot gluing one last thing to it.  Fucking amazing. 

Originally, Chooch and Dimajio were going to go together but then Dimajio had to go over his cousin’s or something, I don’t know. I don’t keep track of kids. It was just as well, because Henry and I had to tag along with Chooch anyway because he can never Chooch a costume that doesn’t require handlers. We had to tie his shoes, make sure he didn’t fall down steps, get candy for him if it was in a bowl on the ground which required him to bend, fluff his wings, make sure he didn’t bust the balloon-top of the bullet….

It’s a tiring, thankless job. 

It always puts us in the SMALL TALK crosshairs with other adults! That’s my least favorite part!

After a quick photo with the neighbor kid, we tentatively made our way down the street. I kept hissing things like, “This was a terrible idea” and “We should just go back to the house and he can wear the pig mask instead, we’ll think of something.” I was just so worried that he would get made fun of or just be completely disappointed that no one understood his costume. 

But Henry assured me it would be fine and to stop whining before I gave Chooch a complex.

And it was fine! Papa H Knows Best, everyone! He didn’t get made fun of at all, and there were actually A LOT of adults who were like, “OH I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE.” 

It helped that he was also wearing a Smashing Pumpkins shirt and was carrying a portable speaker that was playing the song on a loop. 

Even one of my mom nemeses started cracking up and said, “I get it. I love it.”

So he was pretty damn proud of himself. 

One guy was like, “Let me guess….Iron Butterfly?” 

“Close! It’s a music reference but you got the wrong band,” Henry laughed. 

This was actually a fun game! We were like a traveling quiz show. 

“He’s a bullet….but I don’t know what the wings are for!” one old lady grunted to another old lady after Chooch left their porch, and I just started cracking up. 

People were actually excited for him to finally get to their house so they could try to guess what he was supposed to be! “These are the best kinds of costumes,” one lady said in between sips of beer. “We want to have to figure it out!”

At one house, I told the people that we had tried to talk him out of this costume idea but he was insistent. 

“Well, good for you!” the one mom said to Chooch. And she’s right—good for him! I never would have had the confidence to pull something like that off when I was his age, no matter how badly I wanted it. Chooch is my fucking role model. 

He got a few people who said “this is the best costume I’ve seen tonight” and one guy gave him a knowing nod and declared Chooch the winner of Halloween. 

I’m pretty proud of him for coming up with this and sticking with it. Even though we had to constantly adjust his wings and do damage control. Perhaps Henry could have SPENT MORE TIME working on the LOGISTICS of the damn bullet. 

A photo of Henry making sure Chooch doesn’t perish inside his bullet. 

 https://instagram.com/p/BMPi3szgHMt/

But….next year, I’m handing him scissors and a sheet and telling him to go to fucking town.

************

We walked down the street to Eat n Park afterward for dinner*. “I Missed Again” by Phil Collins was playing, so of course I had to loudly announce this, as is my forever-custom when I walk into an establishment that’s full of the sweet note-blossoms that churns forth from Sir Collins candied-throat.

“Oooh! I should go as a Phil Collins song next year! ‘In the Air Tonight’ maybe?!” Chooch shouted excitedly, to which Henry and I were like:

*(And yes, I pulled the door shut on Henry when we walked in. “You’ll never learn your lesson,” he sighed.)

According to some of my friends, this was the BEST PIE PARTY YET, so LOL if you missed it.

Just kidding. That was rude. And my new thing is trying not to be rude.

But it really was a mighty fine display of people and pies and I couldn’t be happier. Let’s peruse some pictures of these particular people and pies, perchance.

PIE PEOPLE:

• Judy
• My mom (!!!) and her friend Debbie
• John, Jen, Gavin and Abby
• Blake & Haley
• Alisa and Cara
• Kara, Harland & Theo
• Lisa, Matt, Matt’s dad Mike, & Gigi
• Erin, Brian & Padraig
• Lauren & Tony (and their dog, Charlie!!)
• Chris & Monica
•  BARB
• Rocky, Angela & Ryder
• Brad (and his dog Tucker!)
• Sandy, Ben, Elena & Zoe
• Maggie, Ivan, Lila & Annabelle
• Glenn, Amanda, & Eve
• Chris & Rebecca
• Felicia, her mom Donna (my old Girl Scout leader!!), and Lila
• Amanda, Adam, Alia, and Annika
• Brian, Cathy & Clara
• Debbie S.
• Gayle & Jeffrey
• Rob, Nancy & Nancy’s mom
• Valerie and Brian
• Amber2 & Teddy

I think I got everyone. If I missed you and you’re reading this, obviously it’s because you don’t rate. JUST KIDDING. This is one of the downsides of waiting two weeks to recap the damn thing. But the upside is that I get to write in my blog while watching HOCKEY because HOCKEY SEASON IS IN FULL EFFECT.

OK, back to the pie, though. There were so many delicious pies! It’s a good thing we don’t actually do any judging because there’s no way I could pick a winner.

We made that weird sweet potato thing which Henry fucked up and it came out sooooo dense and not very sweet at all which is a shame because it was beautiful-looking. The second pie he made was Nesselrode, which no one would consider because the name was so horrible but my god, it was fantastic. It was made with like, pecan puree? I can’t remember. But it was sweet and creamy and this is the stuff broads should be wrestling in, not jello.

Sandy brought a tomato & corn pie that was so good, I want to use some cheesy adjective that Dick van Dyke would jovially exclaim if Disney presented a theatrical release of the pie party.

(Sandy, why don’t you slide that recipe into my DMs? Or you can just give it to me at work on Monday like a normal person.)

(And then I’ll give it to Henry because LOL recipes.)

Rob also brought a savory pie! Spinach and cheese. Savory pies are often the unsung heroes of the pie party because you can only eat so much sugar before your body starts to crave a vegetable.

Or salt.

Or cheese.

Speaking of vegetables, though….

John & Jen brought two pies made with vegetables from their kids’ garden: a chocolate ghost pepper pie and a carrot pie, which was sweet not savory. Holy shit, both pies were great but the ghost pepper experience was lit AF. It was just the right amount of heat, right at the end, just when you think you’re home safe…

And Lauren brought a key lime pie with a jalapeno twist, which was also delightfully fiery!

I was so into this year’s accidental spicy theme!

Kara made a pineapple cream pie which she was afraid wasn’t going to be exotic enough—Kara, you’re crazy. That pie should be the official dessert of Hawaii. And she worked so hard mixing up the whipped topping!

(FYI THE PENS JUST SCORED.)

Everyone LOLd when Glenn showed up. I’m friends with his wife Amanda on Instagram so I made sure she had the details because apparently he never tells her about the pie party!? They brought a pumpkin cheesecake thing that all these people kept raving about and I’m sad because I was too busy trying to socialize like an authentic human and by the time I went back to get some, it was all gone. UNLIKE THE NESSELRODE.

Fun fact: Glenn used to work with my high school buddy Chris, who also came out for his first ever pie party! AND Chris is a beekeeper so he brought an amazing apple pie with brie and fresh honey from his bees! I’m posting his own Instagram picture here because I wasn’t able to snap my own photo before it was mauled:

LOOK HOW ADORABLE!! And it tasted fantastic.

So Chris is a beekeeper and so is Lisa’s father-in-law who was also there, and Glenn is a WASHED-UP beekeeper! So many bee experts under one pavilion!

I don’t have a picture of this one, but Maggie brought a mango pie which definitely was a star of the exotic pie theme. I’ve never had a mango pie before and now I want one all the time! I just had a quick side-bar with Henry about this one and he said, “Yeah it was good” but he used a tone that had actual life and emotion to it (the opposite of hope he did earlier today when I asked him if he thought the new Joyce Manor album is great) so that’s how you know it was a good pie and he wasn’t just trying to tell me what I wanted to hear so that he could go back to half-watching the Pens game and pretending he’s an NHL coach.

I think Lisa was revealing some foolproof weight-loss secret. I mean, that’s the only thing that would have me so enrapt. Plus, look at Henry smirking.

Lisa’s amazing lemon blueberry thing (one of my favorite flavor combos!) and her father-in-law’s pecan pie chilling in the background. I was super nervous to meet her FIL Mike, who was visiting from Colorado, because Lisa told me that he’s been reading my blog and I always feel embarrassed when that happens. And I know, “Then Erin, why have you been writing on the Internet since 2001?” I guess the short answer is that I pretend it’s because the only people who read this are the ones I made up in my mind.

You know, “you guys.”

Duh.

It was really cool to meet him, though, even though he made a joke that went right over my dumb blond head, and when I mentioned it to Lisa a week later, she said, “Oh, so THAT’S why he mentioned that he thought you were going to be so smart in real life, but was disappointed to find out you’re kind of dumb.”

UGH, LISA.

And then when I won at Beer Math last week, she was like, “Aw, I’m going to have to tell my father-in-law that you actually are smart sometimes.” THANKS, LISA!

Speaking of Lisa, my favorite part of the pie party migt have been when she told Monica and me that we have really pretty eyes and Monica was like, “AW THANKS’ and I was like, “Really? It took you 20 years to tell me that?”

Alisa might troll Chooch harder than anyone and I love her so much for it. Here she is antagonizing him over a heated game of Pokemon. (Also, Cara brought these really cute apple tarts and I didn’t get one because as usual, I’m snoozin’ and losin’. You can see them on the bottom of the pie tier below!)

Felicia and her mom Donna took this challenge very seriously and brought a fancy tray of mini mouthgasms, a/k/a Canadian Buttertarts.

“Excuse me, did you say Canadian buttertarts?” Monica asked, popping up from under the table, fist to her mouth in an effort to plug her hysteric enthusiasm.

Monica is really into these things, I learned!

And she and Felicia both, in tandem, attempted to show me the proper way to eat it.

“You need to hold it over the wrapper,” Felicia said.

“No really you need to eat that shit over top of something,” Monica tried in vain to warn me.

But I stubbornly chucked the wrapper in the trash and took a big bite.

“You’re gonna get it all over—-oh, OK. There it is,” Monica sighed, as the liquid-y butter innards gushed all the way down my chin, onto my arm, probably into my hair.

“We tried to tell you,” Felicia said as I fled in search of napkins or wet wipes or a babbling brook in which to dunk my whole person.

“You’re an idiot,” Henry said as he cleaned me up.

Henry would probably make a really great preschool teacher.

Or at least, the preschool teacher’s creepy helper.

Monica’s practicing her hitchhiking skills for the next time she feels trapped in public with Chooch and Chris isn’t ready to leave yet. Also, Monica has the best shirts and Chris has the best hair. And so does Lauren, who sits in front of me at work and taunts me with her ability to french braid her own hair!!! Ugh!

By the way, Monica was on pie duty this year and made Butterscotch M&Ms and Cookie Dough pie, which tasted super fattening and delicious and I probably got the name wrong because I had to ask her at least 7 times during the course of the day to remind me again what it was.

So I’m just going to rename it:  Lots of Chocolatey Things In a Pie.

Ugh it was fantastical. Like Neil Patrick Harris in a pie.

I’m drinking some kind of pumpkin beer while I write this.

LOL Gayle! She brought these adorbs S’mores tarts and I was so happy to be able to use the pie tier twice at one party! I’m glad I decided to bring it.

Gayle’s tarts were serious business. She even brought a lighter to torch the marshmallows. When Brian reached for one, I was like, “WAIT DON’T EAT IT YET WE HAVE TO GET GAYLE” and there was this big To Do with the lighter and the wind  kept blowing it out and finally Brian was like, “OK look, I’m fine with cold marshmallows. NO REALLY GO AWAY.”

I love putting my party guests in uncomfortable situations with people they don’t know!

Chooch is not so low-key obsessed with my friend Rocky because one time I made an offhand remark that some YouTuber Chooch likes reminded me of Rocky. Anyway, Chooch had all these pink balloons that he insisted on blowing up before people arrived (he kept one aside and named him Bobby which was funny and sad at the same time), so naturally at some point, two balloons found their way up Chooch’s shirt and Rocky apparently said “Nice rack” to him, which sent Chooch running over to tell me, “MOMMY ROCKY RECALDINI TOLD ME I HAVE A NICE RACK!”

Like, calm down son. You’re acting like you just received an autographed headshot of some Sky TV personality you were obsessed with in 1991 which totally wasn’t something that I personally sent away for, but just a random example that means nothing.

I invited Barb because I like to hear her run down the list of Erin Rachelle Kelly superlatives that she has scrawled on a Starbucks pumpkin spice latte (holla!)* receipt in her pocket from 2011. I like to believe she adds to it constantly, and that there are like 18 of them stapled together into a little flipbook called Erin is the Best.

*(INSIDE BARB JOKE. Except that it’s not really an inside joke because I’ve shared it here before and really it’s just that she came into the office one day with a PSL fresh from Starbucks and straight up sang, “Pumpkin spice latte, holla!” which was funny because you know, Barb said it. And then she promptly sat down to tweet about it on her phone in the “blinged-out” case.)

Man, I miss Barb.

And I miss Debbie, too! She and Barb took care of me and soothed the hysteria I often felt from being out and about in the real world. Now who do I have? WENDY?! UGH. She makes me do things for myself!

LOL j/k – Gayle is still available to make sure I don’t stick forks in the toaster and accidentally strangle myself with the phone cord.

LOLOLOL Glenn and Henry! Glenn said something to Henry that was disparaging about me, something about being sorry Henry has to deal with me, and Henry was all, “LOL, at least you get paid to deal with her.” Or something terrible like that. WOW why don’t you guys just start a stupid Boys Only club in a treehouse and make dumb patches that look stupid and I don’t want one anyway!

Amanda thanked me for giving Glenn a hard time at work, and I can’t even take all the credit because many other people are mean to Glenn too, but I will say things got a lot easier for him after Natalie and Barb left.

Meanwhile, Brian was saying something about having to chase his little girl all around to make sure she didn’t fall into peril, and Kara said, “Oh just wait. By next year, you can just set her loose on the playground with the other kids and not have to deal with it.”

Brian said he turned around to look at the playground just as Chooch was riding a log.

That’s my kid.

I feel like Blake probably had something to do with the appearance of the log though.

I AIN’T.

I somehow didn’t get any pictures of Kara at the last pie party so I was on the prowl this time. Also, I should consider running a million races like Kara does so that I can eat a ton of pie without feeling like I was cast for the gluttony scene in Se7en.

I wish I had written down all the pies. I know that Erin brought a really unique and wonderful Girl Scout cookie pie (I wonder if my old Girl Scout leader Donna had a piece!?!?). My mom brought a frozen Cold Brew pie, adorned with chocolate espresso beans. I don’t think anyone has ever brought a frozen pie before! NO WAIT I think Amber1 brought a frozen pink lemonade pie one year?! God, so many pies, you guys. Who can keep track!?

Valerie brought a chocolate peanut butter from the Pie Place which I barely even cared about because I was just so excited to see her face! I’ve known her from all the way back in the LiveJournal days and when I met Kara, I learned that they were “real life” friends so we all went to lunch once in 2008, and it was actually my first time going to Zenith, so now I equate Valerie with cool bathrooms and good vegetarian food.

Anyway, I haven’t seen her since then so this was a big deal for me and I nearly pushed people out of the way so I could greet her.

Also, I made her try the Nesselrode pie and she agreed that it was really good. “You should have named it something else, though,” she said. Ugh, I know, but it’s named after some man named Nesselrode for some reason that my eyes skipped over because I get bored easily but I read enough to know that it sounded weird and that probably no one else was going to bring a Nesselrode.

No one else brought a Nesselrode.

Even if it had a better name, it still looked like a unappetizing  gray blob so probably no one would eat it unless I was aggressively slipping it into their plate. It’s a good thing I’m not this pie’s PR person.

Rocky and Angela brought a banana cream pie which I always forget how much I love a good banana cream until I’m elbow-deep in one and it’s all over my face and I’m sobbing because why do I have no self-control.

Look at this carnage!!

Also, Sandy: remember when Maggie lost her mind and screamed at Elena for no reason and Elena was completely unfazed but you and I jumped? #scaryMaggie

Brian made fun of Dance Gavin Dance but THAT’S OK. I will probably still invite him to the next pie party. Cathy and Clara are more than welcome, at the very least!

(Also, Cathy makes horror movie cookies, you guys. She is someone I need in my life.)

Judy tried brie for the first time and her taste buds apparently revolted harder than most rational, intelligent, self-respecting women when shown a picture of Donald Trump. Brian and Monica witnessed this with me.

Sorry Judy, I’ll tell Chris V. to bring Kraft Singles next time!

Guys. We love Blake’s girlfriend Haley. Like, a lot. And I think Chooch has met his match with her! She dishes it right back to him and it’s amazing.

Amber2 came right as the party was winding down because she was waiting for Teddy to wake up from his nap, so she was probably thinking, “Wow this is the worst pie party yet!” I’m really glad she made it though and I was so happy to see her that I actually CUT HER A SLICE OF BRAD’S APPLE CRUMBLE PIE ALL ON MY OWN! I mean, it was a struggle and she probably could have done it herself more efficiently while holding her kid and standing on a unicycle, but at least I made an effort OK.

I wish I had had the forethought to force everyone to have their picture taken under the pie portal.

There was the most vivid rainbow that appeared as we (lol “we”) were cleaning up. This picture does no justice whatsoever, but I can honestly say that it’s the brightest rainbow I’ve ever seen, and then Kara pointed out that it was actually so big and bright that it was starting to repeat the last several colors! AND THEN WE NOTICED THAT IT WAS A DOUBLE RAINBOW ON TOP OF THAT. What a great ending to a satisfying day of pies and good people.

HOPE TO SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!

I spent the whole hockey game writing this. You’re welcome. Well, maybe not YOU, but someone is welcome.

People kept wondering on Sunday how many Pie Parties there have been so far, but no one guessed SIX. Which is the answer. Six.

Six!

How has this not gotten old yet?

Commemorative buttons for those who have been to all six!

I’ll be honest though: I didn’t want to have one this year. You know how you get sometimes, all beaten down by life and you’d rather just wallow in your tear-filled pit of despair but then you remember that being around your peeps makes you happy.

Plus, you know: pie.

So much pie!

This year, I decided to have a theme, so I picked “Exotic.” Give people some type of gyrating star to shoot for, you know? And if anyone opted to just bring a supermarket apple pie, they could always give it a stripper name. Like Brandylynne.

Or Candy.

Candy Apple Pie.

OMG.

Of course, I found some pies for Henry to make which involved hard-to-obtain ingredients. He left the house at like 6am on Saturday in his attempt to find some kind of Asian purple sweet potato. God only knows how many parking lots he wept in before finally finding one.

But the other pie called for matcha (I mean, it was a Matcha Cream pie, so….) but he was all, “I REFUSE TO PAY $18 FOR MATCHA WHEN I ONLY NEED THREE TABLESPOONS.”

Wow. Slow your fucking roll, Hank.

I interrupted his pie-baking several times on Saturday because I was being a emotional vampire and needed hugs to stay alive. He acted like he was so put-out by this, but obliged every time. It was funny because he was wearing AN APRON.

Lol, Henry.

And then we got to have pizza for dinner because fuck if he was cooking after spending all day in the kitchen.

I took this picture before Henry dusted off the sign, which was coated with Trudy (our mannequin/Xmas tree) residue, i.e. green metallic spray paint dust.

After baking, I had Henry make a small pie marquee for the table but he ran of time so we just threw a strand of battery-operated lights on it for the time being. Next year, it’ll be better!

But this is what I mean — having a pie party seems really no-frills and low-stress but then I have to throw in a million elements after I get a “vision” and you know how my “visions” can be: what do you mean you can’t turn this basic park pavilion into a fucking SWISS CHALET BUFFETED BY EDELWEISS, HENRY YOU DICK?!

And speaking of pavilions! There are two that we use exclusively for pie parties and Chooch’s birthday parties, and both of them were already rented. Along with 80% of the other park pavilions. What the hell?! No one ever has park parties in October! Then I had a fleeting vision of every person in this town who hates me (oh, there are a few) having their own competing pie parties at the same time and I got so sad and then paranoid and then really fucking murderous.

But on the way there, we passed our main pavilion (the bae of all pavilions, if you will) and realized that it was being used for some asshole’s first birthday.

So, not a competing pie party.

Henry’s mom came with us and helped with set-up. I use that term loosely but she did more than, say, Janna who promises to help decorate every year and then comes 2 hours after the party starts, so….

Henry left to go get beverage and I decided I would use the portajohn while it was still fresh from Henry’s thorough cleansing. Right as I was about to come out, I heard a male voice and started to panic. Like, was some woodsman tying up Judy and Chooch, getting them ready to roast on the crappy grill that comes as a courtesy with the pavilions? Should I just stay inside the portajohn and pray that he doesn’t know there’s a third thick-thighed entree waiting in the wings?

Instead, I came leaping out awkwardly, like I was going to kick a bitch in the throat if I had to, and that’s when I saw some man doing pull-ups on one of the pavilion rafters, while Judy counted for him.

THE FUCK.

When he was done, Judy lasciviously asked, “What’s the encore?”

“I just keep moving,” he laughed in between pants, toweling off his older gentleman sweat and thanking her for letting him invade our pavilion before jogging off into the horizon.

Wow.

Where did he come from, beneath the moist autumnal sod? A 1993 episode of Bodies In Motion with Gilad?

I’d have offered him so pie but he didn’t seem like the type to let that garbage near his perfectly curated, sweaty, glistening temple. 

SORRY. I think The memory of Judy’s lust intoxicated me for a second there. That guy was old as shit. 

While I fluffed the burlap on the pie table for the 87th time, Judy and Chooch argued to the death over a violent game of Perquacky, which I guess is like Boggle. We bought it at Goodwill specifically for the  pie party because I like to give people shit to do while eating pie, you know? That’s why I use craft paper in lieu of tablecloths and slap down a mason jar of mismatched crayons and markers on each picnic table.  So if you end up sitting with strangers, play hangman or something. JUST PLEASE DON’T LEAVE.

Most of last year’s decorations were salvageable! So that was more time available for me to make my pie party playlist which I will post here because it’s full of Phil Collins and you know, Dance Gavin Dance. You should know that this is the first year we remembered to bring a speaker thingie so that I could play music. Usually the soundtrack is just screaming kids and the ping of Henry sprouting new gray hairs.

LOL. There is no rhyme or reason to this mix. There never is with me.

People started rolling in at exactly 1pm, which I was thankful for because nothing makes a girl feel like a looooooser than when everyone is late to her party. (The pie party has a real relaxed revolving door feel to it though; people come and go all afternoon. THERE IS NO AGENDA OR SCHEDULE OF PARTY GAMES.)

In the next installment, I’ll show you pictures of pies and the people who ate the pies. Very complicated stuff. Blogging about it takes thought, a (chalk) outline, and a certain amount of alcohol. You wouldn’t understand.

Here’s a picture of Drew from Saturday. She just wanted to help with the decorations, you guys. (She was more help than my SON.)

After proving that Chooch & I can be trusted to make it through a day alone at Kennywood, we decided to try it again this summer too. SPOILER: we made it again!

So this was last Tuesday when this shining example of bravery of Big Kid Pants went down. I took the day off work so that Chooch and I could get one last totally excellent day out of the quickly waning summer, and it was beautiful. The weather, the company, the crowd-level—the whole day was just so fucking GOOD.

(Except for Henry not being able to make oh there, but whatevelyn–we persevered without his calloused hand to hold.)

(Sorry, Henry, but somehow Chooch and I seem to get along better when you’re not around — probably because we’re not fighting for your attention. Sigh.)

We elbowed and shoved past a gaggle of shambling elder-zombies who were bottle-necking the damn entrance. Like, run guys! IT’S KENNYWOOD! Ugh, I hate people who aren’t in a hurry.

The first ride we went on was the Phantom’s Revenge, where I was reminded by the amused yet moderately concerned looks given to me by the guys in front of us that I am a fucking fool on this coaster. I don’t know why I even bother riding it because it feels like a death wish every time! But then it pulls back to the station and I’m like, “FUCK YEAH, I’M SO GLAD I SUGGESTED THAT WE RIDE THIS!” And Chooch is like, “Cool let’s go on again!” and I’m like, “Maybe next year.”

We did end up going on it again later and I think I sincerely alarmed the mom and young girl in front of us. My mouth man, I can’t stop what comes out of it on some of these rides.

This kid was in front of for the Exterminator and I couldn’t imagine why his parents were yelling at him for swinging on the railings and being generally spastic until Chooch finally said, “I think he’s alone” and then we panicked that he would try to ride with us, like that time we got saddled with some weird little kid on Delgrosso’s version of the Exterminator who wasn’t tall enough to ride without an adult, but thank god the ride attendants sent him off alone in his own car, BON VOYAGE MOTHERFUCKER.

I love that Chooch is at an age where he too dislikes children.

Noah’s Ark brought the whale back and changed a bunch of the interior which is a huge improvement but I can barely remember what it used to be like, so yay!

Stoked to be in a whale’s mouth or to be behind that striped ass? Only Chooch knows.

One thing didn’t change though: Chooch and I were giddy as fuck up in that ark. How can you not be? God, dark rides are just the best. I wish I was in charge of Kennywood. I would put in at least two more. Maybe have someone recreate the old Castle Dracula from Wildwood and 100% rebuild La Cachot so we could have new generations of devious children calling it the Lick-a-Shit like they invented it.

OK new life goal: OWN A DAMN AMUSEMENT PARK.

Don’t fuckin’ judge me, Noah!

Then it was Turtle Time!

Some mom-type turned to me in line for the Turtles and asked, “Are you guys having fun?”

Wow, how nice, I thought. That this stranger-mom cared about our fun quotient.

But it turned out she mistook us to belong with the school group that was there on a field trip.

“WE’RE THE CHARTER BUS 16 GROUP FROM MRS. BLAHBLAH’S CLASS!” the chattiest of the children said to me, like it was some sort of BRAG or something. Like, cool story, IDGAF?

Meanwhile, the chaperone had completely turned her back on us once it was revealed that Chooch and I were just commoners and not part of some stupid field trip.

That kid kept talking to me and finally Chooch was like, “MOMMY STOP TRYING TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH KIDS OMG.”

Well sorry that no one my own age wanted to talk to me!

Seriously though, we get such a fucking kick out of the Turtle and if you ever wanted to see Chooch and me in our true forms, this would be a good time. We practically choke and gag on our laughter but then Chooch unfailingly gets too close to the opening of the turtle and I start screaming, “MOVE OVER! YOU’RE GOING TO FALL OUT!” and he’s like, “OH, OK ‘MOM'” and then we start cracking up again and that’s when we start to notice that no one else around us seems to be consumed by our level of hysteria, so what are they doing wrong!?

Oh Christ, I started to lose my voice before we even made it through the first hour. I’m a fucking hyena at these places.

Guys, oh guys, let me tell you a story about this little old ride called Enterprise. It looks like a Ferris wheel laying on its side but then it starts spinning and before you know it, you are upside down and nothing has you strapped down! I have always loved this ride and I think it’s because it’s one of the first grown-up rides I rode on my own as a child and I felt like such a fucking bad ass.

But this one time, pre-third grade, I was at Kennywood with my friend Kristen and her family. I do not remember a single other thing about this day except riding the Enterprise with Kristen, and as I exited the car, it swung back and caught me on the back of my heel.

And it fucking killed, man.

I vaguely remember not being very comfortable with Kristen’s family so I didn’t want to cry in front of them, so I tried to downplay it but I was bleeding through the back of my (ruffled) sock. They must not have deemed it necessary for a trip to the first aid shack, because I have a VIVID memory of going back to  my house in South Park and having to soak my socked foot in the bathtub because my sock had adhered to the exposed wound thanks to the CONGEALED BLOOD.

It took so long for that cut to heal too, because of its location.

Now this ride is called the Volcano and it’s almost always closed — apparently they were having a hard time finding a part that they needed to repair it? Maybe I dreamt that? I’m not the Kennywood Insider, for fuck’s sake.

When we saw that it was actually opened, Chooch cried, “OMG I finally get to ride it?!”

People around us in line are always so jealous of our glamour lives.

When we boarded our desired car, Chooch tensed up.

“This is it? We just….sit here? There isn’t a seatbelt or a harness or CHAINS TO HOLD US DOWN WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN.”

I tried to explain that it was science-y physics centifiblahblah something or other, oh just shut up and enjoy the ride, my child!

Oh man, even the WHIRRING SOUND of this damn thing takes me back to better days, when people were losing pocket change on the Flying Carpet and the Pirate Ship didn’t literally make me seasick.

Our day was off to a great start, and I know this because we made it AT LEAST three hours before calling Henry!

****

This is taking me so long to write, because if we’re being frank here, I AM STALLING. I know that technically the calendar says we have a few more weeks of summer, but let’s be real: summer is done. School’s back in session. This day was our last hurrah and as soon as I put it in words, that’s it–the last thread of summer is going to be yanked from my soul.

Ugh. I’ll be back with tales of Lemon Equality and JOHNNY’S SISTER OOH LA LA.

Even if there was only one band that I even remotely, slightly cared about on this year’s Warped Tour, I would still go and here’s why: there has never not been a time when I haven’t left there with at least one new band to love, or an old band to have newfound respect for.

If you like music at all, no matter what your age is, you could probably find at least one band that piqued your interest. Probably. I don’t know. (Even Henry usually likes one band, and that’s a guy who likes Ted Nugent, you know? If there’s hope for him there’s hope for all.) The festival is very well-rounded in that regard and if people hate on it, it’s probably because they’ve either reached that crotchety “THINGS WERE BETTER IN THE 90s” phase in their life, or they just have some preconceived notion that it’s literally a field overrun with feral scene kids and bros.

Please – my tolerance for kids is pretty non-existent so if I can float through an entire day on a cloud of bliss and ignorance, then you know it can’t be all that bad!

They don’t even make me feel old! And let’s be real, I’ll be 37 by the time I finally get off my ass and finish writing this idiotic post, so this isn’t exactly my demographic.

THAT BEING SAID, here are the bands I saw at this year’s Warped Tour. Bands that are in bold are the ones I have deemed worthy of expanding upon and you know how much I love expanding. Have you seen my waistline?

• In Heart’s Wake (If I hadn’t been going through a personal life crisis, I would have probably REALLY ENJOYED this set; these guys are on my radar now at least. But right now all I associate them with is Chooch literally pacing in circles begging me for my phone so he could play Pokemon Go and I JUST CAN’T WITH POKEMON GO.)
• Assuming We Survive (Chooch said he didn’t care about them but then inexplicably wanted to meet them until he saw the line)
• Real Friends (I got as far as waiting for them to come out before freaking out for the 2nd time that morning and walking toward the exit)
• I See Stars (some – I really want to like them more than I do; th)
• Ballyhoo! (some)
• Issues
• Knuckle Puck
• Bad Seed Rising
• Hail the Sun (Chooch fucking pissed me off and I ended up storming off because he kept trying to TALK TO ME while I was attempting to ENJOY A BAND THAT I LOVE. Rude. I was right in front of the stage too when I stormed off, ensuring that there were ample witnesses. But fuck, those two songs were tight as fuck, yo. I LOVE YOU HTS. I will see you in October with Dance Gavin Dance! Chooch, you’re lucky that I’ve seen them a million times.)

• Young Guns (they were playing in the background when I had another freak out and then Henry was all, “THAT’S IT WE’RE LEAVING FOR REAL THIS TIME, FUCK THIS NOISE” and Chooch and I were like “Haha, have fun leaving, we’re gonna go down here and wait for Emarosa” and then Henry was only bluffing anyway – we saw him hiding behind a thing.)
• Sykes (they were playing on the other side of the stage while we waited for Emarosa and I liked them just fine, but hurry up because Emarosa.)
• EMAROSA!!!!!!! (They got their own post.)
• Ghost Town (Chooch and Henry went to see coldrain during this. WHATEVER BITCHES.)
• Set It Off
• Oceans Ate Alaska (LOVE this band. They can melt my face any fucking day. Chooch and Henry ditched me during this because they can’t handle it.)

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• State Champs (I 100% do not remember watching their set but I have video and a picture….?? And I like Stamp Champs too so this is completely confusing and terrifying all at once.)

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• With Confidence 
• Secrets (Henry fell asleep during them and they were pretty scream-y, so there goes Henry showing off his God-given talent of BLOCKING IT ALL OUT.
• Waterparks
• Chunk! No, Captain Chunk

Issues: I wouldn’t even say I’m a casual fan of Issues, because Tyler Carter has always kind of rubbed me the wrong way and I will forever associate him with Jonny Craig (like when they had a fight and Jonny demanded that Tyler remove the “4L” from his name because JONNY STARTED THAT?!) But everyone in the stupid Warped Tour videos I love to watch kept saying “OMG Issues is a can’t-miss this year” and I figured, nothing else was playing at that time, so why not give them a second chance. The only other time I’ve seen them was when they opened for Dance Gavin Dance in 2013 – so they’re actually the first band that Chooch has even seen live. He liked them then and now he REALLY LIKES THEM because they’re marketing geniuses and worked the Pokemon theme into their merch AND played that dumb Pokemon song when they first came out. One thing that you can say for certain about Issues is that they are genre-bending. They even have a quasi-country jam with some country singer who I don’t care about and Chooch really likes that song for some reason which concerns me because is this the GATEWAY INTO COUNTRY MUSIC FANDOM for him?! I can already see him pissing in the parking lot of a Kenny Chesney concert just to defy me and perfectly curated standards.

The only video I had of their set was through Snapchat so that shit is gone baby gone but here is a video for COMA which has been stuck in my head ever since and will probably go down in history as the one Issues song I actually REALLY LOVE, because I want to be all you think about, anything and everything you dream about. (Fuck, you got me. I like this song a lot too.)

Henry’s review: Eh, they weren’t…I don’t know. They just didn’t do it for me. They opened up good but then….I wouldn’t see them again.

(SOMEONE GET THIS DICK A JOB AT PITCHFORK.)

Knuckle Puck: in full pop-punk disclosure, I am what you would call a CASUAL FAN of this band. I know their album’s name is Copacetic because I love that word and would never forget something like that, but damn I couldn’t name one song for you. However, I have been wanting to see them live and we missed them at Bled Fest (we saw The Beautiful Gorgeous’s last show ever instead), so we clomped our way down into the pavilion and this is where Chooch kept talking to be able it French fries and I was like I DONT CARE DO WHAT YOU WANT so he had Henry go and get us French fries (US! He said he was going to SHARE them) and I stupidly assumed that Henry knew to get them with that weird cheese sauce that First Niagara Pavilion slings, but he came back with just ketchup and I was like WHAT KIND OF INJUSTICE ARE YOU SERVING ME RIGHT NOW? That just made me snap out again (the ground was made of egg shells at this point) and I left the two of them standing there, watching a band they couldn’t give a shit about.

See ya another time  when I’m not being a moody asshole, Knuckle Puck. :(

Henry’s review: We didn’t stay there very long, did we? I can’t remember when that was, so I can’t say yes or not.

(To be fair, he was off buying french fries that were all wrong.)

https://www.instagram.com/p/BIeNNIAAVPA/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

With Confidence: Oh man, I will be honest and say that I was only waiting for them because it was the closest stage to where we were standing and nothing else was happening during this time, but good god damn am I happy for this accident because they were fucking SWEETHEARTS! And also, FROM AUSTRALIA!!! God, I love Australian bands. I also love how many non-American bands were on Warped Tour this year.

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That guy wore a With Confidence shirt to a With Confidence show.

Henry’s review: Was that on the little stage? I”m trying to think what band that was.

Ghost Town: I saw them by myself because Henry and Chooch were somewhere else and I’m not their keeper so GO I DON’T CARE. Anyway, this band is so reminiscent of mid-2000s nu-emo, kind of like that wave of candy-coated quasi post-hardcore that rode the wave in with Pierce the Veil, the kind of bands with fluorescent merch and scene queens loitering by the bus after every show. I’d say this kind of music is my guilty pleasure, but I KNOW NO GUILT. I derive unabashed, wanton pleasure from synthy-scene jams. Plus, they have upright coffins on stage with them, so of course that caters to my interests.

They make me want to start living my life with a dramatic side-part and raccoon eyes again, you guys. Where did I put all of those old hair bows….

https://www.instagram.com/p/BIeNW83A_ms/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

Henry’s review: I would see them, yeah.

Set It Off: This was only my second time seeing them and I think they’re fun watch but if we’re being honest, there’s really only ONE SONG that I l-l-l-love and that’s The Haunting. So we wandered off right after they played that one and it’s fine because I’m not a true fan. I don’t make that diamond symbol with my hands like all the girls do.

We were there though when Cody launched into this full-fledged self-help motivational speech about reaching for the stars, etc blah blah, it’s never too late, don’t let anyone stop you, and Henry gave me multiple shoulder squeezes that translated into “Yeah, Erin, it’s never too late to make your dreams a reality!” and I was just like, “It is when you’re dead inside.”

Anyway, a few days later some girl tweeted that her two favorite singers sang together and it was CODY AND BRADLEY FROM EMAROSA?! So I asked her if she had a video and she sent it to me on Twitter it I don’t think I can save it and I am so pained. BUT FUCK YES I WAS ABLE TO EMBED IT HERE!!!  THANK YOU TWITTER USER RACHELBEE!! I have watched this so many times while making Pudding Face.

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Henry’s review: I don’t mind them. I would see them again….?

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These coppers were thoroughly enjoying all of Cody’s crotch grabs. So was Henry.

Bad Seed Rising: Oh shit you guys, I saw them accidentally after I ran away from Henry and Chooch while wearing my crown of Drama Queen thorns. I was planning on continuing my angry stomp across the grounds when I heard the singer unleash a gutteral scream and that’s when I realized it was this tiny girl. YOU HAVE MY ATTENTION. This was actually the only time all day that I almost got caught in the hardcore-dancing crossfire. I wish that I would have gotten punched because that could have been another thing for me to cry about that day. Boo hoo.

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And she can SANG too y’all. So picky with chicks, especially ones that think that they can scream, but this one got my seal of approval.

I’m secretly happy that Henry missed this because I got to say, “Man, you have no idea how amazing it was” at least 67 times so far and he acts like he doesn’t care but he cares.

Henry’s review—OH WAIT HAHAHA HE WASN’T THERE.

Waterparks: I wasn’t sure what to expect with these guys, because Alt Press seems to be hyping them in the same way they hyped 5SOS and I just can’t get behind that media-choreographed hysteria, you know? Waterparks opened for Never Shout Never last winter, but Chooch and I got there after they played. When we walked into Mr. Smalls, the singer flat out interrupted the girl who was talking to him just so he could tell Chooch he liked his hair (it was still kind of pink back then). So that’s a definite stand-out impression for me.

Guys, my preconceived notions about this band were incorrect! They were fun and entertaining, and the singer Awsten’s stage banter was hilarious and smart. Funnily enough, he had a weirdness about him that definitely reminded me of Christofer Drew from Never Shout Never. This is all to say that I fell in some serious like with Waterparks on this evening and I will be looking out for them to come back to Pittsburgh so that I can go see them, by myself probably,

I would ask Henry what he thought of them, but he slept through their whole entire set, so…..

(I posted this video on Chooch’s Instagram because I figured all of my friends are OVER IT by now, haha.)

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Chunk! No Captain Chunk: I feel like these guys got made fun of a lot when they were new, but now it seems like more people have accepted the fact that France has produced a pop-punk band. I personally enjoy them on a casual level, arms-length if you will, but for some reason Chooch was adamant that we watch them. This made Henry groan because they were the last band to play on the Cyclops stage, right as Warped Tour was winding down, which meant there was no chance of Henry escaping early like we have been able to do in past years when there were no bands left that we cared about.

Chooch’s favorite things about their set was when the singer would pronounce Pittsburgh like “PEETS-burgh” and the fact that they covered Smash Mouth’s “All Star” — I didn’t realize he was such a fan of that song?! Chooch was disappointed that I didn’t get a video it and I was like, “Why would I, though?”.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BH9qWt6jQfe/?taken-by=butt_jam

Henry’s review: Um…I didn’t mind them. I don’t know. I would see them again…?

Anyway, it was a nice FEEL-GOOD note to end Warped Tour on this year. Sorry I was such an asshole for the first half of the day.

And that wraps up this year’s edition of bands we saw at Warped Tour, some of us were clearly more into it than others. The line-up was exceptional this year and I wish I could have multiplied myself to be at every stage at the same time, except for when Falling In Reverse, Reel Big Fish, or Motionless In White were playing because I go out of my way to avoid those ones! (I don’t like supporting women-beaters, ska bands, or cheesy metal.)

I’m already counting down for next year! I could use a massive do-over and I’ll be sure not to answer my phone this time if it rings. Le sigh.

Wow, guys, wow. I came to work this morning and found a bunch of RIP Glenn party hats on my desk, courtesy of Gayle! I’m at once giddy and also sullen about this, because it means that she remembered my birthday (which is technically tomorrow but ain’t no one coming into the office on a Saturday to shower my desk with confetti).

This is BAD NEWS because that means I won’t get to have another year of monthly un-birthday presents, which was her self-administered penance for missing last year’s birthday. AND I LOVED EVERY MONTH OF IT! My June Unbirthday gifts were off the hook, the total mother lode. All sorts of costume jewelry and flowers even!

The flowers were pretty and made a large chunk of the department reek of a funeral home, so that was awesome too.

Amber 1 and Amber 2 modeling their RIP Glenn hats! I posted this on Instagram and my friend Stacey who does work here asked, “What happened to Glenn?!!?” so I had to explain that this is just what we call the dead celebrity Glenns that I make.

“I don’t know what’s more funny about this,” I said to Glenn. “That someone who just knows you based on The Internet is concerned that you’re dead, or the fact that if that was true, then this picture looks like we’re celebrating your death.”

Amber 2 was looking at all of the hats and said, “Oh, and here’s one with a cat” and I cut off to screech, “NOT JUST A RANDOM CAT, THAT’S MARCY, OMG!” Ugh, Amber.

(Obviously that’s the hat that I chose to wear….for a few minutes before my head started to ache because I don’t have a child-sized head.)

In other work news, the 4th edition of my dumb department ‘zine was distributed last night! I was on late shift last night and not feeling well at all (and the WebMD in my mind had me completely paranoid) so I was determined to get the ‘zine finished and copied before I left just in case I died last night.

Here are some excerpts because I know you’re dying to know:

In this edition of the ‘zine, Glenn is finally exposed as a furry.

And then at the last minute I realized I had one extra page and it was too late to harass someone into being interviewed by me, so I sucked it up and quickly typed  my own crappy list.

Oh! Gayle just got here with the rest of the presents (Glenn called her an obsessed fan) and at the bottom of the bag, there were extra pictures that she printed for the party hats, like of Chooch from Warped Tour. I got all excited because there was also an Emarosa picture, and Glenn  mumbled, “But they’re not dead…” because I guess he thought the theme of the hats was Dead Things.

“No Glenn, all of the pictures she printed for the hats are things that I like!” I sighed. And motioning to one of the RIP Glenn pictures, I said, “Like…pretending that you’re dead!” And everyone laughed but as soon as I said it, I was like, “Wow, that’s some dark ‘get HR on the horn’ type shit right there.” But no one seemed to care.

(Although he kind of had a point about the dead things theme because Gayle also gave me a coffee thermos thingie that she customized with a picture I took of my succulents, pre-cats, so yeah — most of those poor things are dead now.)

***

Just got back from lunch – with BARB!! Oh, and also Wendy, but whatever. I see her every day. We went to McCormick & Schmick’s which means I had to get a salad, but luckily that’s all I wanted anyway, so nice try.

Also, not that this is shocking to me, but I found out that BARB doesn’t like sourdough bread or portobello mushrooms (or maybe ALL mushrooms?! This is why she should let me interview her!).

Anyway, look what BARB got me for my birthday!!!

My chair is modeling this bitchin’ shirt splattered with all the best HORROR MOVIE BABES!! I especially can’t wait to show Chooch because the girl from Ju-On is on it and she’s his ABSOLUTE FAVORITE.

I told Todd I’m going to wear it to work on Monday and he was like, “Ok.”

Anyway, Jeannie joined us toward the end of lunch and we rolled our eyes together when Wendy started showing the waitress every picture of her baby that she has on her phone. I had to make Wendy get out of the booth so I could leave because hello, I’m just a low-ranking peasant around these parts and have to account for every minute of my workday.

Barb didn’t feel like getting up so made the waitress hug me for her and it was SO UNCOMFORTABLE because that lady gives robust hugs and I’m not a hugger.

Then I came back to work and did some stuff, and then 5 minutes ago, Last Mail walked by, noticed the Happy Birthday banner on my desk and jovially wished me a happy birthday TWICE followed closely by a “Have a great weekend” and Todd and Glenn were like, “Wow, just wow.”

SO ALL IN ALL, not a bad day-before-my-birthday. We’ll see how many ways Henry fucks up my actual birthday tomorrow though. HOO BOY can’t wait.

My mom had us over The House for dinner tonight and Corey surprised me with an early birthday cake, featuring the gorgeous face of PHIL COLLINS!

I seriously could have died. So goddamn perfect! And he apparently had to jump through many hoops to get it made too because Bethel Bakery’s Celebration Specialist is a stickler for obeying copyright laws. He read their email exchanges out loud to me and after going through the same snarky customer service ringer last year when ordering Chooch’s birthday cake, I’m seriously considering cutting ties with that place.

Chooch of course said he was bored in between every bite of food he took because this is how shitty his generation is: if there isn’t a phone or YOUTUBE or Xbox in sight, then OH WOE IS ME SO BORED NOTHING TO DO.

“Your problem is that you have no imagination because technology does it all for you!” I snapped. “When I was growing up here, I was never bored! I built FROG HOTELS.”

As my mom was rolling her eyes, Henry’s mom was all, “The fuck is a frog hotel?” So I had to explain how I’d take cardboard boxes together and cut doorways through them, and then fill them my Sweet Secret furniture before, obviously, filling them with frogs.

“I mean, the frogs would usually jump right out but it was fun,” I said as Henry shook his head. “And then there was the time my dad walked in on me in the garage, teaching a praying mantis how to count change.” At this point my mom looked seriously embarrassed to have birthed me and Henry’s mom incredulously asked, “How did you teach a praying mantis to count change?!” and I’m like, “Well Judy, exactly how it sounds? It sat there while I counted out a handful of change….?”

While everyone was offering varying opinions of the bug, like “they’re gross” or “they’re good luck” I continued to talk about my wonderful, imaginative childhood activities. “And don’t forget about the time I was banging rocks against the driveway in order to make eyeshadow out of the rock powder.”

“What the fuck, you would think you grew up in a shack in West Virginia,” Henry exclaimed. “Everything you did for fun was so primitive!”

“Erin, you know there’s a road right up there that takes you places,” Corey said, reminding me that while we grew up surrounded by woods, it wasn’t exactly the wilderness.

WHATEVER. I liked my childhood just fine, thanks.

And then Corey and Chooch played hide and seek in The House, after realizing that we never played hide and seek there when we were kids probably because our grandma and Sharon would have had a BIRD.

“So, it’s his birthday, then?” Judy said toward the end of the night, while we were discussing the cake.

That whole time she thought we were celebrating Phil Collins’ birthday and not mine.

Tonight was pretty awesome.

Much wow, this was Henry’s 8th Warped Tour (I think? I don’t feel like counting, but it’s less than my official tally that’s for sure because I’m more legit than he is). What this means is that he is basically a seasoned, grizzled pro at this point. Let’s ask him some questions about his long-term relationship with Warped Tour and if he plans on siring any illegitimate children out of wedlock with them, too. JUST LIKE HE DID WITH ME.

Do you plan on siring any illegitimate children out of wedlock with Warped Tour?

Say that again!? [WRITER REPEATS QUESTION.] I don’t know. Is that even possible?

There were several times when I went off on my own during the day. What did you and Chooch do that I missed?

We just walked around and got some Twix [they had a booth there] and Chooch spent some time in the water tent. We saw a little bit of Cold Rain but then he saw some vendor and then we ventured off. I don’t know, we just walked around and then he kept wanting a bucket hat. [There were some merch booths selling them because nothing screams POP PUNK like a bucket hat?]

Out of all the Warped Tours you’ve attended throughout the years, give us your top 3 worst moments.

Great, now I have to think. [He is seriously thinking about this too OMG. No wait, he’s watching something about the Kennedy assassination. No, he’s thinking again!]

#3. I don’t know what year it was, but having to listen to Katy Perry sing.

#2. Whatever year it was when it was 1000 degrees there and it was miserable. [I know what you’re thinking: Isn’t that every year?? But this one year it was actually so bad that someone died, I think, maybe.]

#1. Breakdown 2016. [You guys I think he’s referring to the 87 times I wanted to leave last week because I’m emotionally cracked.]

If you had a booth at Warped Tour, what would you be selling?

Individually-wrapped prunes. [LOL JUST KIDDING THAT WAS ME, THE WRITER, ANSWERING FOR HIM.]

Huh. What would I sell….[Literally, he has no imagination.] I don’t know. Let me think about that one.

[TWENTY MINUTES LATER] Your art, and meat products, because there’s way too much vegetarian shit there.

[Um, if he’s referring to the ONE tent that Peta2 has there, then yeah: SO MUCH.]

Kevin Lyman, the founder of Warped Tour, asks you personally for a list of bands to forever blacklist. I guess he feels an affinity to you because you’re both middle-aged with probably have the same amount of callouses. Anyway, what bands are on your list? GO HOGWILD, BOO.

Slaves

[Wow, this just in: Henry doesn’t care when disgusting, misogynistic bands like FALLING IN REVERSE and ATTILA play at Warped Tour, that’s why they didn’t make his list. Oh OK, privileged white male! Way to use your god-given Caucasian penis for good.]

It’s the morning after Warped Tour, i.e. DEAR DIARY TIME! What do you write on the back of the Faygo Red Pop label* about this year’s experience at Warped Tour?

I can’t have secrets and then tell you! [I won’t stop looking at him until he answers.]

When you look at me like that and start typing, it scares me. I don’t like your line of questioning. Too much thinking involved. Why can’t it just be yes or no answers. [Ew he just told me he doesn’t like my attitude?!]

*[That’s what I imagine Henry’s diary to be: a clump of Faygo bottle labels crumbled into a ball and punched under the mattress.]

OK fine, pretend like it’s a postcard that you’re sending Chris & Monica from the great bustling parking lot that is Warped Tour:

Is this a new question? Why would I write Chris and Monica a postcard?

[I’ll start it for you: DEAR CHRIS AND MONICA]

[I just asked Chooch the same question since Henry’s brain is creaking and smoking as he tries to think. Chooch would just write: ‘Sup.]

Dear Chris & Monica,

Having a great time, as always. [I think he’s sarcasming.]

Brought my A&D ointment which I have been applying liberally right around the TENDER AREAS inside my thighs. I wanted to wear booty shorts today but I had to wear regular-lengthed basic white man shorts on account of all the CHAFING. Thought we were going to leave early because Erin was being a psycho but then somehow we ended staying later than ever before, wtf guys. I got to eat an ice pop and it reminded me of the days when I was a paperboy except that it cost approximately $8 more. Um, I bought my work-husband the Masked Intruder CD not because I’m thoughtful or anything but because he is my dom.

[OK fine, I might have taken some liberties after the “having a great time” line because I was tired of him sitting here saying, “Um…..uh…..”]

You seem less irritated about having to chaperone Chooch and me than you have in earlier years. Can you confirm this is because you’re sufficiently dead inside, or do you secretly LIKE WARPED TOUR now?

I think it’s a little bit of both. I like some of it and I’m pretty much dead inside because of you and Chooch.

But you hated Bled Fest – why?

I didn’t hate Bled Fest I just didn’t like it. I never said I hated Bled Fest! It was just too hot—and it wasn’t my type of music!

[Let me translate this for you, because I’m well-versed in reading between Henry’s blue-collared lines: Not enough booty shorts.]

Talk about how you’re able to sleep every year through super loud, heavy bands (the lucky bands this year were Secrets and Waterparks):

I don’t know it’s just something I can do.

[WOW GET THIS MAN ON AMERICA’S GOT TALENT.]

If Warped Tour was around when you were a teenager, what bands would you have liked to see in the line-up that was probably printed in the PITTSBURGH PRESS along with the date that the tickets went on sale so you would know when to go to KAUFMANN’S at CENTURY III MALL to buy them. I’ll just go ahead and start you off with Ted Nugent:

1. TED NUGENT
2. Iron Maiden
3. Judas Priest
4. Probably ZZ Top
5. CCR
6. The Guess Who

[Wow.]

[ED.NOTE: Don’t post pictures of illustrated weeners on Facebook because you will be reported for it and it will be removed, even if it looks like a Simpsons’ weener.]

Speaking of weeners, last year, that ginger-fuckerbitch Jonny Craig got kicked off Warped Tour for flapping his weener at his merch girl. Would you rather have Jonny Craig’s weener flapped in your face at such a close proximity that it gets tangled up in your beard, or would you rather get caught flapping your own weener at Jeffree Star and have him paint it with his lipgloss line? You can be honest, I won’t tell anyone:

Really? You’re not going to tell anyone? Pfft. [He just mumbled “Boy, you’re having fun with this.”] Probably the latter because I don’t like Jonny Craig.

2016 highlight:

Bradley [from Emarosa] hugging Chooch [during their set. Don’t worry Henry, I’m here to beef up your answers].

ON THE REAL HENRY, like how giddy do you get when Bradley talks to us?

How WHAT? Giddy? I don’t. I don’t need to get giddy; I have you two that get giddy and quiet.

[Oh OH, Bradley is totally his #mce (Barb, that means Man Crush Everyday).]

In closing, what advice would you give another dad who is going to Warped Tour with his kids for the very first time? And don’t say “Drop them off”:

Well that was going to be my answer, drop them off. Since I can’t say that….um….bring lots of cash for merch and food. I don’t know what else….but I’m sure you do.

[Yeah, I do: FORGET ABOUT HAVING ANY AUTHORITY, OPINIONS, OR FEELINGS THAT DAY BECAUSE IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU, IT’S ABOUT YOUR KIDS, SO STEP OFF, DAD.]

Usually by the third day of a three day weekend, Henry, Chooch, and I are at each others throats. But I mean, that’s normal family talk, right? YOU LOVE ‘EM BUT YOU DON’T LIKE ‘EM.

Except that by some crazy act of god, we had an exceptionally peaceful day and actually, dare I say, ENJOYED each others company??

And this was all without the aid of roadside tent-purchased firecrackers!

How motherfucking un-American, I know.

We went to one of our favorite nature spots—Homewood Cemetery—and ran amok like morons (two of us, anyway), namedropped birds (one of us), and spent a good ten minutes enjoying the show a groundhog put on by peeking his adorable head out of a nearby hole (ALL OF US). So much nature and dead things!

Here are some photos.

Chooch serenaded his broken stick with a creepy rendition of Sarah McLachlan’s ASPCA-anthem “Angel.”

Surprisingly not pissing in the pond. “Looking for frogs” is their claim.

This shirt was one of my Gillcrest finds and I love it so much. Battle of the Network Stars ringer tee vibes all up on yo’ girl.

Reppin’ that Hotel Books sad boy scene. You know what they say about families that listen to emo together….

….they cry together?

He looks so put out as usual, but I’ll have you know Chooch and I entertained him right down to the individually-wrapped prunes on his cargo pockets. He only yelled at us and called us idiots about 29 times! A low number for one of our family outings.

Shit really got crunk (lol yeah I went back to 2003 and I’ll do it because I’m a blogging renegade) when Chooch found a rogue TENNIS BALL and we played CATCH in the CEMETERY and successfully intimidated some poor kid who was learning how to drive in mom’s SUV.

I think “playing catch” is something that people did before smartphones happened.

Our version of playing catch is more like imagining that Chooch is perched above a dunk tank.

Henry apparently “hurt his arm” from whaling the ball so hard at HIS LAST BORN SON.

I hurt my arm too, but my hurt happened the day before when we were doing YARDWORK at my pappap’s house and I used….wait for it…

….hedgeclippers for the very first time and wound up with a callous and arthritis.

I did it for like 45 minutes!

Which, if you ask Henry, is more like 20 minutes in Erin Time.

Even my mom was kind of like, “I can’t watch this” and went in the house.

After the cemetery (and after I nearly peed my pants because LOL PLAYING CATCH), we went to Millie’s for an ice cream cone lunch because that’s how we chose to celebrate the day, OK? Also, no cookouts to go to. We’re loners, Dottie.

I had pistachio rose and yogurt date — what a divine combo. It felt like a real mythical pairing, you know? Like I should have been straddling a Sphinx.

Chooch got CHOCOLATE AND VANILLA. God, his palate is so fucking pedestrian. I’m so embarrassed. What a piss-poor job I’ve done at parenting. Here’s my basic kid, World. All your intricate and sophisticated flavor profiles make him puke in his mouth.

We have to seat him by the nearest napkin dispenser everywhere we go. (SPEAKING OF NAPKIN DISPENSERS!!!)

Later that night, our GROWN ASS CHILD went to Dormont Park with Dimajio and his older sister to watch the fireworks. I was equally “WOOOO FREEDOM!’ and “OMG DO YOU THINK HE’S OK WITHOUT US?!”

I didn’t grow up as a city kid–I was allllll suburbs and sheltered, baby.  So it’s pretty interesting watching Chooch living that city kid life.

Anyway. That was how we chose to celebrate our 7/4 and it was hilariously perfect. Look at that, I guess sometimes I like these assholes, too.

Guyzzzzzz. Today is Henry’s birthday! But it’s just a random one (51) so I didn’t bother to do anything special. He can just re-read last year’s joint post where Chooch and I listed 50 things we like about the old man.

I’ll add one more for 51:

This morning, when Chooch pointed out that he had poison ivy on his ankle, I panicked and yelled, “WELL WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO!?” He calmly said, “Nothing. I already took care of it.” You know why? Because HENRY taught him how to take care of himself! Love that about him.

You know what would be amazing? If everyone texted Henry today. He broke his phone and has been downgraded to some early-2000s flip phone thing which makes reading texts extremely difficult. Now that he’s FIFTY-FIVE, he probably needs to exercise those eyeballs even more: 412-605-2143.

*SUCH AN UNDERRATED WORD. There was an episode of Battle of the Network Stars in the 70s where some broad says, “What’s all the hullabaloo?” like eight times in a row and no one bats a lash because it was OK to use that word back then. Let’s bring it back. I’ll make pins. You write the song.

We didn’t have a grand scale birthday party for Chooch this year on account of us having to sell copper from abandoned houses* to take him to Disney World. But I wanted to still have a small cake-eating get-together at our house when we came back because cake. And also, friends. We just like company. (And by “we” I mean me and Chooch.)

*(THAT WAS A JOKE. Always gotta clarify since this dumb blog/hyperbole has gotten me into real life trouble so many times. God forbid I jest!)

I left the cake up to Henry and Chooch and they chose ice cream cake from Dairy Queen which is OK but I really wanted Bethel Bakery cake, ugh. Ice cream just doesn’t do it for me.

And this is clearly all about me. Me and my 10 year old C-section scar!!!!

The guest list was diverse and basically perfect because it was curated by me:

• Kara and Harland
• Henry’s mom, Judy
• Henry’s sister, Kelly
• Chooch’s cousin, Zac
• Chooch’s friends, Olivia and Sophia, and their mom Meggan (who has become my first ever mom-friend! And you guys thought I was forever tainted!)
• Wendy and Summer
• Robbie and Nikki
• Blake and Hailey
• Shawn, Jess, and Anais

Henry totally lost control of his wallet and bought COOKIES in addition to the cake. DISCOUNT GROCERY STORE COOKIES! In the background, please note that somehow Ted NUDEgent is still alive!

As soon as Blake got there, I told him about Henry getting BULLIED at work and Henry was so embarrassed. He should take Blake to work with him once and then I bet that son-of-a-bitchin’ salesman will think twice the next time he tells Henry he can’t wait to see him get fired!

(I wish he would bring me to work with him, though. I’m fucking ITCHING to start a fight with this guy. I found him on Facebook and I can tell that he’s totally the type of guy who’d hit a girl too. BRING IT.)

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The only candle we had in the house, inexplicably, was a lone “N.” It got the job done, though.

Did I mention that Megan brought me a present, too?! A cute little ornamental frog to guard over my succulents.

I love it!

This is the only picture I got of my kid during the entire party. He was busy, I guess.

BUSY GETTING HIS ASS KICKED OUTSIDE BY BLAKE!

At one point, it was getting so rowdy outside that Kara slowly leaned forward on the couch to peek out the front door. “Someone is going to get hurt any minute now, mark my words,” she said in that OH WELL tone that most moms store on the tip of their tongues. Literally 10 seconds later, Chooch came into the house with his hand over his mouth, and proudly exclaimed, “Blake made my mouth bleed!” He did some rinsing in the bathroom and then went right back out for more.

My favorite was that he was getting beat up by Harland, too.

Can’t say you don’t deserve that, boy! Nothing like a good old birthday beatin’.

Judy was flat out pissed at Kara for not bringing her youngest son, Theo, but then Wendy arrived with baby Summer and all was right in Judy’s world again. I wasn’t there when it happened, but Henry said Judy basically dropped everything she had in her hands and rushed over to steal Summer. She is A BABY INHALER.

Summer likes my house because of all the clowns, obviously.

I’m going to get her a clown for every holiday.

In this picture, Kara was talking about how much she wants another baby and Wendy was like, “Great, but you ain’t taking mine.”

Shawn brought up the very storied Gallaghers and we had a grand time regaling Judy and Jess with all their scandalous ways, like when Melissa Gallagher had a baby without knowing she was pregnant and her husband Mike thought she just had eels in her belly. Kara was like, “Please, let’s have a reunion with all the people you used to invite over from 2006-2008, like Ryan ‘OMG I LOVE JOHN WATERS, BALTIMORE, BALTIMORE, DIVINE!’ from LiveJournal; the Gallaghers; and Regan and Lance, the tax-evading Civil War reenactors who come complete with their own bench on which to sit and judge everyone.”

Those were some weird times, socially, for me. Sorry to all of my friends for making you endure such rude and infuriating people!

I failed miserably and taking pictures. I was distracted by hockey and all the good conversation. JANET JACKSON IS HAVING A BABY! FREE CONDOMS! ROLLING ROCK TOWN FAIR!

And then Chooch left his own party before it was over! He decided he was going to sleep over Zac’s so he left with them and then the rest of just there and talked completely shit on him. Chris and Monica texted me around 10:30 because they were going to stop by on their way back from their prior engagement (I’M SO FORMAL), but I was like, “He’s not here anymore.” And Monica was all, “Even better!” because she and Chooch are intense frenemies, but then Chris was like, “No Chooch, no Chronica!”

On the real though, it was a nice evening of celebrating my kid’s monumental cross-over into double-digits. Thanks to everyone who came or was there in spirit!

Chooch made me some sort of Mothers Day packet at school & these are the highlights — don’t ask me why he calls me Mumsy because I haveno idea but it cracks me up every time!

MY FUCKING HEART. The fact that he started expressing an interest to go to concerts at a young age (six!) made me feel like I was winning the Mom’ing game. That’s one of my greatest sources of joy and the fact that I have been able to share that with him over these last four years has been so rewarding and mind-blowing. There’s nothing better than looking over and seeing him feeling the same shit I am while our favorite bands are on stage, or ever better — watching his face change as he sees a band he’s never heard before and realizes that he’s into it and then yells to me, “WE GOTTA GO TO THEIR MERCH TABLE!”

I’ve successfully grown a mini Erin Rachelle. We may not look like (as I’m told constantly) but there is no denying he’s mine. 

Creepy places! Like cemeteries, haunted houses, giant Mary statues in the middle of nowhere, and the Lizzie Borden Bed & Breakfast! However, I think he felt obligated to toss in that “you take care of me” line because we all know Henry does that for both of us. 

Happy Mothers Day to all you bad ass broads there, single dads doing it all (this is almost Henry when you think about it), and pet-moms too! I always got so mad pre-Chooch because Henry would never give me a card on behalf of the cats. Fuck you, Henry. 

Being a mom is pretty great…except when it’s not. Like when your kid abandons you on Mothers Day!!!! (He slept over his cousin’s last night, and I don’t know why I’m sad about this because it’s not like he was going to wake me up with breakfast and fanfare.)

Enjoy your days, you guys! I’m going to buy succulents. And the cats can’t stop me. 

I got my hands on some old photo albums yesterday and some of them are filled with photos I’ve never seen before, like these EASTER BUNNY PHOTOS. Clearly, I’ve always had a soft spot for him/her.

I wish the Easter bunny at the local malls still looked like these ones!

GAH I JUST WANT TO HUG ALL THREE OF THESE FLOPPY-EARED FUCKERS!

I love how someone clearly didn’t like what I was wearing in one of these and took me back for a do-over after a wardrobe change.

In other news, I’ve only eaten bread and a sundae from Sarris in the last two days*, and I’m running on about 3 hours of sleep right now.

Ask me difficult questions!

*Lies. I also ate the mini KitKat that Glenn chucked at me earlier this morning. That’s how I know HE CARES.